Grazing donkeys . . .
Monday, February 16, 2026. It's the Moon's day . . . and it is New. Forecasts for TulseyTown indicate moderate to strong Southerlies bringing sunny skies with only a cloud or two this afternoon, warming to the mid 70's.
By following The Way there are moments you may find yourself in the unknown. Be comfortable with that. It is as Buddha taught: all is emptiness. Getting too attached to the safety of a nearby harbor or desert oasis can send you into an existential tailspin off the path. The present moment has never occurred before. Of course it would be unknown. Sit. Breathe.
The Epstein class. Trump is the “honorary” chair. – Robert Reich, Happy President's Day, 2.18.26
What's driving the squalor? – Heather Cox Richardson, in Letters From An American, posted last night.
The Week Ahead – Joyce Vance, Civil Discourse today.
Grazing Donkeys
World of water and mud,
since I've known you
I've known trial, tribulation, and torment.
You are a pasture for grazing donkeys,
not the abode of Jesus.
What am I doing in a pasture for grazing donkeys?
Why insist on above and below
when my Source dwells in every here and every there?
Why ask where of everywhere?
Turn off the tongue.
Enter nothingness.
See all things through nothing's eyes.
– Rumi, in Water, translated by Haleh Liza Gafori, The New York Review of Books, 2025.
Heads up . . .
Sunday, February 15, 2026. It's Sol's day . . . and a sunny, early Spring day is in the forecasts for TulseyTown. Moderate to strong Northerlies bring mid 60's to the afternoon. The week ahead looks to be in the 70's until the cooler weekend.
With the mood of Valentine's day lingering, what else could love possibly be but the beautiful, risky human willingness to commit to loving deeply what we also know will change and vanish? – Susan Murphy
Love transmutes from something taken to something given. – Jeff Krasno, “Will you be your Valentine?” online 2.14.26
On Valentine’s Day in 1884, Theodore Roosevelt lost both his wife and his mother. – Heather Cox Richardson remembers in Letters From An American.
Galileo was born on this day in 1564, Pisa, Italy. The Italian natural philosopher, astronomer, and mathematician advanced the Copernicun view and was condemned by the church for doing so. The ban lasted until 1835 and was finally publicly recognized as accurate in 1992 by Pope John Paul II.
It's Susan B. Anthony's birthday. The pioneer feminist was born in 1820, Adams, Massachusetts.
An agenda of joy. – Joyce Vance, in Civil Discourse.
Standing up to the bullies. – Robert Reich, Sunday Thought.
We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. We are all reluctant prophets, demystifying mysticism.. – Mirabai Starr.
Everybody's looking for something. Keep your head up.
Wild sings the bird of the heart . . .
Saturday, February 14, 2026. It's the Satyr's day . . . rain off/on/off is in the forecasts for TulseyTown today and into the evening. Moderate Southerlies are to maintain mid 60's.
The comedian Jack Benny was born on this day in 1894, Chicago. The undisputed master of timing, he was Johnny Carson's idol.
It's Valentine's day. The celebration has both secular and religious roots dating to Roman times.
Some poems prompted by the occasion . . .
Wild, Wild
Why couldn't Romeo have settled for someone else?
Why couldn't Tristan and Isolde refused
the shining cup which would
have left peaceful the whole kingdom?
Wild sings the bird of the heart
in the forests of our lives.
And wild, wild sings the bird.
– Mary Oliver, “Wild, Wild” from New and Selected Poems, Volume 2, Beacon Press, 2006.
The More Loving One
Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.
How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.
Admirer as I think I am
Of stars that do not give a damn,
I cannot, now I see them, say
I missed one terribly all day.
Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.
– W.H. Auden, The More Loving One, Curtis Brown, Ltd. 1960.
Like fireflies searching in the rain
for you
at the speed of light.
– jab