The Cleaning Song

     As I was driving through town I noticed an elderly man with a small shop broom sweeping his sidewalk clean of the abundant yellow leaves that had fallen from his tree. Technically the sidewalk's not his sidewalk. The city owns it. But it sits in front of his house. So he keeps it clean.
     It's a shame more people don't look at things like that. It may not be yours, but you used it, so clean it up. You used trash, throw it in the garbage. Don't leave it everywhere. You use it, you clean it. A simple mentality. But a wise one.
     You eat somewhere. Don't leave crumbs. Pick up the leftovers. You chew gum. Throw it away when you're done. Don't spit it on the ground or stick it under a counter, chair, or table. You cause something to fall over. Put it back. Don't make someone else do it. You grab something from a store hook or shelf and decide later - halfway through the store - that you don't want it. If you remember where you found it, go put it back. If not, find a store associate and ask them to put it away for you. Don't just dump it.
     But you rarely see this happen anymore. What happened to being considerate of others? Why do people just leave things? Is it because of the entitlement mentality? Mommy pick it up for me? It ain't mine, someone else put it away. I don't care, someone else will pick it up. How incredibly rude and self-centered.
     It takes two seconds to pick up a wrapper and two seconds more to drop it in a trash can. That's four seconds of your life spent being considerate of others. A sentence's worth of conversation. The time of walking from one room to another. Is it too much to ask to spend a handful of seconds more to throw away what had encased your lunch?
     I know, I know. This sounds so incredibly hypocritical coming from someone who can't stand dusting and never takes the time to reorganize anything at home. It's kinda funny how neat and clean I am while at work but then you see my home and think how cluttered my life is. I can't help but laugh as I write this. It's true. I spend my days cleaning up a store left a mess by customers and then when I come home I just toss my stuff down and flop in bed or on the couch or at my computer desk, never bothering to put it away. Thinking of myself like this, I think I might appear a bit two faced. But truth is I'm not. When I'm shopping I put stuff back that I change my mind on. When I'm at an event I put things away the way I find them after I use them. I eat somewhere I always clean my place. I keep my stuff in a locker and hang my coat up at work instead of intruding on the rest of the break room.
     But when it comes to my home, I don't care about the mess. I like the frustration of trying to find things and having to reorganize eventually. It keeps things different for me. I like some spice in the monotony of the workweek. Yes, I've had to share room with people before and I've always kept things clean and organized (or concealed the mess in my suitcase.)
     Other people like clean everywhere. I've known more than a handful of neat freaks in my life. So when I'm at work or I know a friend is coming over, generally a cleaning spree ensues. I'm thinking of them.
     I'm looking at you dear reader. Are you keeping things clean for others? "Clean up, clean up. Pick it up, put it away."
     Is there something you can pick up today?

I Write By Candle Light

Flame.
A state of energy.
Heat and light.
Material burning.




Candle.
A molded wax form
encasing a string.
Set alight:
Material burning.




Candlelight.
Used in stories and analogies.
Seen inside and outside.
In homes and public places.
Why is it still a favorite?
Is it warm and comforting?
Is it an easy way to illuminate the dark?




Candlelight.
A little flame. A big hope.
A little light. Bringing change.




Oh, to be a flame.
To be a candle.
So many want the fires of leadership.
Or stardom.
To be the greatest,
the most remembered.
The one to mark history.
Me?
I'm just a candle,
carrying a little Flame.
But this Flame will never die.
Even after my time is over
and this candle is gone.
The Flame will live.
For is lives on in other little candles like me.
Though my name be forgotten,
my life remembered no more,
still the Flame lives on.
Enemies will try to snuff Him out.
They even killed Him.
Still the Flame lives on.




I'm just a candle,
carrying a little Flame.
I write stories, I tell tales.
I pass on word of the Flame.
I write by the Light that I accepted into my heart, my candle.
I write by candle Light.

Too True Tango

     I am a lover of dance. I find that I enjoy watching (and/or dancing) almost every known dance there is. But recently I discovered the Argentine Tango.
     Now I know that many people make Tango out to be a romantic dance or a sexy dance, but the truth is far from it. The Tango is entirely a dance of communication. That's why the phrase "two to Tango."
     What is Tango? A dance of partnership. When a man asks a woman to dance the Tango with him, he is asking her, in silent contract, to follow his movements and obey his steps. And she, when offering her hand to be led into the dance is agreeing by her actions to follow him blindly. (Sometimes quite literally: I find I am the better dancer when I close my eyes. I also enjoy it more.)
     It is the man's dance. It is his job to decide where they go along the floor and what steps to take and, by his movement and strength of hold, to communicate this to his partner so she can follow in a split second so they stay in time to the music.
     It is the woman's dance. She is the crown jewel. In heels and graceful, gliding steps she commands the room. If she cannot follow him, she must stay still so no one watching knows the mistake.
     It is a dance of the senses. The partners hands meet on one side and embrace on the other. Humans are tactile creatures. Even something as simple as a dance hold can change your perspective. Your ears hear the music, you feel your own heartbeat. A simple pleasure to close my eyes as I am led around the dance floor. Beautiful.
     Now I know quite a few men out there who either don't like dancing or don't know how to dance and are embarrassed to try. If you can walk, you can be taught how to dance. Many women out there appreciate men to can dance or have the guts to at least try. Ballroom dancing was once a social norm. Now not so much. A shame. Men who dance have a tendency to be more chivalrous than others because they are taught to respect women. I hope, dear reader, that this new generation will try to Tango. It's not complicated, it just takes some steps.
     And the first step is to not be afraid of dancing in the first place.