Not knowing where to start keeps me from starting. Not having time to relate the whole story keeps me from telling it. Not having time to sort out my thoughts and feelings keeps me from feeling comfortable with sharing anything.

But let just say that big changes are afoot. I am shifting paradigms in my work life, leaving my safe boring world of software engineering to dive into a venture as a futurist for real. And that’s just the center of the storm.

I will know more about what my life is going to look like in about a month. I know that I will have to rethink my strategic plan, my daily routines, and my personal infrastructure. And in that redesign will be a repurpose of Overflow, maybe enlisting this site into the new paradigm, the network-centric makeover of my life and career.

That said, as I type this, I realize that I miss posting here. So I cannot promise I’ll be totally gone for the next month. But if you don’t see me for a while longer, know that the waves of change are crashing around me and I’m desperately learning to surf.

Poem: Please remember to wash your hands.

Another poem for the collection.

“Please Remember To Wash Your Hands”

There are wolf thickets.
There are culverts full of bears.
There are alpine hares
that were lost children.

Do not talk to strangers.
Do not cross the road.
Make a ring of fire.
Do not play with matches.

There are migrant birds
that shouldn’t be here.
There are people listening.
There are ill considered
consequences. There are
no answers to your liking.

There are precautions
you can take. Switch off
the lights. Remove
sharp objects on entering
the liferaft. Suck fish eyes
to stave off thirst.

There are many things
that do not come alive
except in the small hours
before the day makes it.

Wolf thickets.
Half silences.
The distance
between lovers.

— Sandra Greaves

Good Question

“Cause I see two wolves fighting in my heart,
one vengeful and the other compassionate.
Which one will I feed today?
Will I behave as if the god in all life matters?
Or will I come after you, blaming and accusing?
Which one will I feed today?”

— Michael Brownstein, from “If you see something, say something.”

These were the last words I read on my half hour treadmill walk this morning, from a poem in a culture mag. The magazine before me being the only thing making the bored hamster experience of my morning exercise bearable. I can catch up on my reading and make progress through the periodicals that queue up in my briefcase. These words were good words to stop on. Goods words to start the day on.

A good question in general: “What will I feed today?”