In every moment is a Whisper. Welcome to one man’s quest to listen

I relaxed, knowing the procedure of giving up my blood was the best thing I could do.  I was staying ahead of my body, which would naturally overwhelm itself with an otherwise required element.  My pause was not for myself.  It reflected the procedures going all around me, of using one poison to confront an otherwise even more deadly one.  I have been away. Consequently,...

I was the only one there for every event.  I have shared much of my life.  In total, there are a lot of individuals involved.   Several were close to me, travelling together, sharing food, taking on the challenges with me, if only for a time.  Looking back, I realise that I alone have walked my path.   As one friend reminded me today, we will, in time,...

The wall of yellow and black balls reminded me of a visual image of a computer address.  With states of 0 and 1, one could count, see an instruction, or understand that state of where things are.  I thought of my early days of learning IBM’s Assembler computer language and how it drew me into imagining what it would be like living within...

A security clearance form asked me to list the countries I have visited during my lifetime.  I struggled to answer the question.  Fortunately, the form only had 21 spaces.  As I filled in the spaces, I kept thinking of the ones not included.  I am still struggling to filter my response.  When I sent the form in, I flagged that the number was closer to seventy...

The wall of umbrellas was beautiful.  I could suggest it served no real purpose.  It was bling gathered, stockpiled over time, and displayed as an indulgence.  In a place where umbrellas were useful to the point of being a required part of what one brought with them, the display was a luxury.  As I enjoyed their colours, beauty, and sense of peace, I could hear...

I stood, hesitating, in front of the window.  I was looking at an echo of my past.  I was five years old, sitting raptured in front of the old black and white TV.  To my left, I could see the turntable.  With a tear in my eye, I could remember the awe I felt when listening to Frank Sinatra vinyl in his prime.  I saw myself...

A childhood hero of mine was an agriculture engineer.  He related a story about an irrigation project that captured my attention and imagination as a teenager.  He solved challenging problems related to growing food with enough water, making a difference for a community that could not afford to compensate him.  It was an aid program that made a difference without reference to anything other...