Sun, 26 May 2013 00:16:59 -0500WeeblyMon, 10 Dec 2012 09:02:48 GMThttp://tremblingleaf.com/1/post/2012/12/2012-retrospective.htmlWhat a challenging year! Many major decisions, one after another, have led us through some bracing times over the past 12 months. I have worked extremely hard to do my part: building, moving, cleaning, sweating, straining, puzzling, designing, questioning, wondering.

Some of the hardest work has been work done on the inside of me: looking in the mirror and recognizing things that hold me back; needing to commit to changes within in order to move forward on changes without. Making sure that hard work and exhaustion are balanced with quietness and the renewal of strength.

Gentle Breeze Farm has new production and shipping space in order to support its growth over then next few years. We grew over 100% in 2012. 2013 looks like 200% growth will be achievable. Its exciting and at times crazy making being a young company. So many lessons to learn and opportunities to explore.

I've had the opportunity to meet some truly amazing people this year. Looking forward to be inspired each day in 2013 as well.

Over these next few weeks I will be settling in to the Season and reflecting on things (within and without) with thankfulness, with a sense of wonder, with better understanding (and hopefully better wisdom).

May you and yours have time to recharge, and to regain the strength and balance so needed in these days!

Please be safe, be well. Peace to you, both within and without.

And if you have a dog or cat, I hope you spend a few moments with them in your lap in a sunny spot and can forget for a bit just where you are, what time it is or what you were supposed to be doing before you sat down with them.

Grace and Peace,
Allen
]]>Mon, 10 Dec 2012 08:31:24 GMThttp://tremblingleaf.com/1/post/2012/12/0316-and-all-is-well.htmlOK, its 03:16 and you all are in your beds (I hope) enjoying a good night's rest. I am at the Command Center awaiting the next call for assistance after we have rolled out the new software suite. This is my 5th night shift going from 6PM till 6 AM. Others also are on duty with me. The night is quiet.

I wish to salute our leadership, and the specialist teams they have assembled, all of the work that has been done over the past 2 yrs and the level of concern and provision arranged to make this roll out a success.

And, it has worked extremely well. There have only been a few technical bumps and the Super Users with our customers, doing what is called "elbow to elbow support", have done an amazing job in getting everyone working with the new applications.

It is truly amazing what a large group of people, well organized and well lead, with the appropriate provisions, can accomplish together.

Good work!
]]>Tue, 08 May 2012 22:26:08 GMThttp://tremblingleaf.com/1/post/2012/05/change-for-julie.htmlEver have that feeling that things are spinning like a wobbly top, and the wobbly part is getting crazy? Me too! The world ain't what it used to be by a long shot. But, then again, it never was.

Change can be threatening to feelings of security and predictability. Change can feel like a cold wind on a raw day which seems to take your breath away. Change can be uncomfortable, even very painful.

Yet, Change must be embraced or we risk even worse: stagnation, embrittlement, encystation. Change challenges me to wrap my big arms around Life and draw Life close to my chest, even when there are some pointy things in the mix that keep squirming around.

At times it feels like I've got a scrappy little kitten in my arms. Other times I feel like I'm wrestling an arm full of blackberry brambles on a windy day. A little blood may get drawn.

Give me the full deal with this Life thing. Not interested in a half-lived, half-awake, sub-life. Winter comes but that is only because Summer came and is coming again. Change comes but it will also yield to that Peacable Kingdom in its time.

The really great thing about Change is that it keeps changing, keeps rolling along. When Change gets painful it is just as likely to change into something very lovely, or startling, or puzzling, or satisfying.

Just like the Pioneers, the only ones who get to stand in the presence of great discoveries are those who embark on journeys into the unknown. And like grabbing a hold of that little pig at the County Fair, until you do wrap your arms around Change, you will never know just were it might take you in this thing called Life.
]]>Fri, 09 Mar 2012 22:23:31 GMThttp://tremblingleaf.com/1/post/2012/03/the-man-thing.htmlYou've probably noticed that I do my fair share of writing about men and little snip-its of man-life. Being a guy myself, I consider it an honor to interpret the tableau of guy dynamics as they play out before my eyes.

Man Things have been getting some bad press and bad PR recently. This is my little part to present a guy view of men "in the field", in their element; undistrubed by tour buses of gawking naturalists or the like.

Sure, my bias is that, by and large, guys are honorable, well intended, limited creatures who often times do the best they can as they see how to do it. But, that IS the human condition, isn't it? We could say that about any or all of us.

I hope that these humble observations and inspirations can in some way uplift your spirit. There is so much goodness we can see and receive if we have open hearts and peaceful spirits. I believe we need each other on this journey. We need all the differences and all the likenesses, too. Its a wild and wooly ride at times!

]]>Fri, 09 Mar 2012 19:37:36 GMThttp://tremblingleaf.com/1/post/2012/03/apprehending-a-thief.htmlRecently, I've been trying to undo an number of things which probably should not have been done in the first place. Bad habits, like big rocks, often times are a drag and take significant effort to remove. One of my worst habits is letting "time" steal from me.

As I have heard, there was an Africa tribe that thought clocks created time. They did not like that at all. They did not like clocks, either. I can sympathize!

Yet I have repeatedly allowed 'the clock' create time inside of me. I have stacked my work load, calculated timelines, worked to cram in as much doing as possible. Jacked up my stress levels. I'm spent I tell you. Clock went from being a tool to being a tyrant. I'm done with that!

I have been working to weed out the tentrils of time pressure from my inner life. It takes attention to recognize the little buggers, but worth the effort: snip - snip - snip. After a few weeks I am more calm inside and can focus on what I do with more enjoyment and less stress.

This is not just a matter of not wanting to be troubled or pushed. Its a matter of health for me. I recognize that if I continue to allow time to be the master, then it will steal my vitality, joy and peace. It will also kill me. That would not be a "career enhancing move", as they say.

So, 'time', you are going were you belong. I am removing your status as a master and relegating you to the tool chest. When I want you I'll call for you. Otherwise, chill.
]]>Sat, 18 Feb 2012 03:02:57 GMThttp://tremblingleaf.com/1/post/2012/02/a-mighty-cloud-of-witnesses.htmlI had grabbed a cup of coffee from the coffee place on Main St, and was working back against the cold wind to my desk. Turning the corner where the old train station clock is displayed I found a mighty cloud of witnesses surrounding ...Who/What?

There were at least a hundred wings clapping at the brisk air surrounding a man in a wheel chair. Out in the cold wind both man and birds were engrossed in a ritual that I'm sure had happened daily for more than a few months. He was casting out bread crumbs to the adoring crowd. And the crowd was eating it up, quite literally!

He was the master of ceremonies at a feast of grace where no one was wondering why they were there, neither they nor him. Though his head was bent down as he cast out the fare I could see the most blessed smile on his face. The birds were furiously fluttering with happiness and desire as he was intently lading out the stuff of his patronage.

It could very well have been the pinnacle of each of his days. I do not know, but it looked so. His admirers were equally as inspired that he, again, returned to give them goodness. As I walked past him it occurred to me: One giving freely day after day, with Joy, to those who could not pay Him back. I thought about that for a while afterward and the next day.
]]>Fri, 17 Feb 2012 03:40:15 GMThttp://tremblingleaf.com/1/post/2012/02/gnarled-old-hands.htmlWhen I was a lad of 7 or 8 I had a fascination with the hands of men that had seen hard work. The wrinkles and callouses and worn shiny skin seemed to be magic to me. Here were hands that touched tools, metal and wood. They endured pain. They formed the ground and living things. I was enthralled by those hands, even though they were mostly at rest when I saw them.

I desperately wanted to have hands like that. My own young hands were skinny and tender. No character. They were weak and easily felt pain. On occasion I would use my hands roughly and try to get them toughened up, but the progress was very slow. I vaguely recall my first real callouses and that I was amazed that I finally had a callous to speak of.

Today, at 55, I look at my hands and see a bit of the hands of a working man. My palm skin is creasing up. Some of my joints are getting a little large. One finger won't straighten out very well. There are scars and stains here and there. The veins stand out a bit on the backs and the skin is starting to get a bit transparent. I think I'm finally making some progress.

Then I meet my neighbor Ralph and I feel like a little kid again. He's in his 80's and worked in the woods almost all of his life. His hands are just as gnarled and knotty are old tree roots. Beaten up and yet tender. Old, yet capable. And when he gestures with those old hands I DO pay respect to his decades of years and experiences. I love his hands.

Hopefully I can get some more things done with these hands of mine and make a real contribution of goodness to this world. I'd like to have more character in my hands. Its going to take some real work. And maybe, just maybe when I'm an old man gesturing to make my point some younger whippersnapper will pay me a bit of respect, even if just for the fact that I have cool looking, roughed up old hands that have a few things to say for themselves.

Now ... where did I put that shovel of mine??
]]>Tue, 10 Jan 2012 00:07:29 GMThttp://tremblingleaf.com/1/post/2012/01/when-push-comes-to-shove-or-not.htmlI'm always a little concerned when I find myself with a choice between two things I don't want. Have you been there recently? Sometimes its best to take a breath and step back, at least a short distance, to gain some perspective. Let the ill-wind blow by. See what's left after the squall line passes through.

I have a cat like that. His name is Lee. He's quite the charming fellow. He does not know any other cat who is not his friend. Kind of like the way Will Rogers lived: “A stranger is just a friend I haven't met yet.” Another cat might hiss at Lee, but Lee just looks at him with a kind of expression that says to me "no hablo 'hiss' , wanna be friends!?" He really doesn't speak that language!

Guess what? Lee has alot of friends and no enemies! He walks in a world without looking over his shoulder. Knows who gives the best head rubs and where the best sunny spots are. He's a wise one.

Maybe your example walks on two feet. Some of mine walk on four, too. Its really good to have the chance to see how it all can be different, and that 'push' may not lead to 'shove' as much as a chance to be friends.

Its worth a shot!



]]>Fri, 06 Jan 2012 00:33:28 GMThttp://tremblingleaf.com/1/post/2012/01/heres-to-a-lovely-new-year-in-every-bright-hue.htmlLife is often what we make of it. Whether we are in a rough patch or living on easy street we can choose to see light or darkness, good or bad, possibilities or problems. We can choose to live or wait for life to happen to us. Choosing well is the art of this life.

Sometimes the currents of swirling waters rise up and rip at us as we cling to a scrub branch. Sometimes the sun lays its mellowing warmth on our drowsy form. Sometimes we awake at night not knowing, which can be a very bad feeling indeed. Other times the warmth of security provides the kind of mothering we remember from times a'bye.

Day 5 of the year 2012 is like a blank sheet of paper waiting for you and me to begin to trace and fill our lives. We have 360 more sheets to inscribe. I hope and pray that we draw well these lives of ours. Every line and shade are a commitment, not to perfection, but to exploration and the privilege of breath.

Its time to get out our coloring pens and make this the very best year we have lived so far! Please do not wait for tomorrow, friend. It is time to really paint it up one side and down the other.

If you need assistance, you may enlist the encouragement of 2 or 3  Doctors of Living whose ages range from 3 to 5 years old. They are wise in many ways and a benefit to those of us who are returning to our easels after many years.
]]>Fri, 23 Dec 2011 23:29:11 GMThttp://tremblingleaf.com/1/post/2011/12/pink-back-pack-and-love.htmlEarlier this Fall, when the leaves had started to fade, I was driving to my day job. Along the way I saw love.

He stood at least 6 feet tall, thin as a young man usually is: beard, long-ish hair, working man's clothes, light coat against the coolness of the morning. His right arm hung down. His hand was down to his thigh, holding the little hand of his daughter.

His daughter was hardly as tall as his knee, and her arm was almost straight up, hand in her father's hand surrounding hers. She wore a padded pink jacket which was seeing its next year of service. They walked carefully, at her pace, without rush, going to the place where the school bus would pick her up.

The pink back pack matched her coat. It was as big as she. I think it must have been filled with dreams and the future and a lot of things you can't see unless your eyes are well adjusted.

And he was wearing it, as they walked along together.
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