The Rooster Files and the Meaning of Life


“So you’re telling me this is just a phase?”

“Oh, it’s a phase. It’s totally a phase.”

“But it feels so real… this whole being human thing. And I haven’t accomplished anything. It’s embarrassing, really. Heartbreaking.”

“Oh, god, you really believe that matters! Hold on, I have to wipe my eyes.

“So not to be insensitive, but how long do you really think you have on earth? At the outside, say 90 years or thereabouts? Would you even want to be around longer? Never mind, not relevant. Bottom line, you are literally the twitch of a blink of a cosmic eye. There’s only one reason you’re here and everything else is filler. You can judge that filler as good or bad. Accomplished or tragic. But Life isn’t judging you and there is no prize for Best Human.”

“You make sense, but you’re a rooster so really, I’m probably just talking to myself.”

“If that makes you feel better. I am a rooster, true. But wise as the stars, my friend. Wise as the… But hey, you believe in concepts that make no  sense anyway. Am I just a rooster? Appearances can be deceiving.”

“I’m so lost… Wait. What’s the one thing I’m here for then? Was that rooster speak or do you really know?”

“Being lost is fantastic. It just means your stories have less glue. And the one thing? Remember City Slickers?”

“The movie? Where Curly holds up a finger?!”

“That’s where I was going except… and here’s a hint… the one thing has nothing to do with accomplishment. NOTHING to do with it.”

“So find my one thing…”

“Except that it’s not a thing, right? It’s more a state, a north star. Makes sense?  Just don’t compare your one thing to someone else’s.”

“Because I rock, I talk to roosters, and my one thing is more than enough. That about it?”

“If my beak was flexible you’d see me smile… but allow me to just say, hell yeah. You totally got this.”

Daily prompt Phase

Photo by Alice Popkorn

Wake Up


It’s not that dreams are bad, they’re just not real. Not nearly as amazing as waking up.

On the one hand you have the familiar: your deep unhappiness, your pain, your familiar burdens. You’re mostly ok with that because you have dreams. Dreams of Better, More, Different, Improved.

And when you’re used to living small, you need dreams. I did. I do. But there comes a point when you need to choose the red pill. Or is it the blue one?

You choose to wake up and let your blankie go… you embrace your pain and your hurt. You don’t imagine a better future. You find your peace, your Self, in the present. Right where you’ve always been.

And maybe this time you’re able to face that like a warrior, like someone who remembers we’re not given more than we can handle. As long as you have you, is it (any of it) really so bad? Remember yourself? That sweet, amazing person who has been longing for your attention, possibly for years? Yeah. She’s right there. She has some things to say. And it has nothing to do with future achievement.


Photo: Alice Popkorn

Word prompt: Dream

The Curly Tailed Beast

Monsters don’t jump out of closets, they clack across old linoleum with big eyes and lolling tongues. They act on impulse, quirk their heads when confused, and jump at the scent of food. Believe me, they have an agenda. Don’t let their outward cuteness sway you – I made that mistake once and pay for it every day. You may very well ask how I live with it.

I won’t bore you with the saga of sharing a small apartment with a pug. Better to ask how clouds form rain. Why E = MC2.  You don’t want to hear about their snoring. Their incessant need to lick everything in sight. The food addiction, the obscene shedding. Life is too short to talk about their half goat/ half pig genetics. These are horrors that would haunt your dreams.

Just beware of these beasts if you ever come across them. Their eyes will mesmerize you as they reach into your very soul…  you will find yourself reaching out to touch them. My friend, at that point you will be lost and all hope gone. Go to your closet, throw out all your dark clothes and prepare for a new life. Some say their devotion is worth the trade-off. Their love a balm to life’s misfortunes. But I say there is nothing so terrifying as a hungry pug. And just because I *must* kiss my own every day does not mean I have succumbed to his charms. I mean look at that face! He’s so cute annoying. You are warned!


A Gab with the Buddha

Und Buddha lächelt

In Bodh Gaya, past shimmering water, rice paddies, and red-clay hamlets I found Buddha sitting crossed-legged beneath the distinctive heart-shaped leaves of the Bodhi tree. Eyes closed in seeming meditation, he said, “Welcome, sister. I can tell you have a lot on your mind.”

Trembling at being plucked out of my reality and finding myself in 6th century northeastern India, I took a deep breath and sat down in front of Siddhartha. For some reason, I knew exactly where I was and who was in front of me. A part of my mind wanted to question that, but a larger part of me didn’t care how I knew. Buddha looked nothing like the pictures I’d seen, but his radiant energy left no doubt. I had so many questions I didn’t know where to start.

I blurted, “You should probably know I’m not Buddhist.”

Translucent amber eyes opened. I felt a waterfall of love wash over me. “Buddhism, Christianity… they’re just words. What’s in your heart? Don’t think about it first.”

I flashed back to what brought me here, sitting in front of this awakened holy man. One moment I was at the cash register of a vegetarian café, about to place my order, and the next I found myself in this ancient forest. It must have happened after I saw the laughing Buddha statue and rubbed his belly for good luck (I was just following the instructions on the sign at the register!).

Coppersmith barbets, small birds with green bodies, yellow cheeks, and throats, and redheads called out in metallic tuk, tuk, tuks, reminiscent of a copper sheet being beaten. The scent of what I swear was Nag Champa incense wafted in the breeze. If this was a hallucination, it was a damn fine one.

Feeling my stomach tighten, I leaned forward. Either way, this was my chance to get some answers. “Can you foresee my future? Or are you just going to tell me to look within? I’ve tried that. It was a bust.”

“So, you think there’s a ‘you.’ No wonder you feel so dissatisfied!” He giggled.

 “You just used the word ‘you’! This right here is why religion is so confusing. Eastern religion most of all.” I scrubbed my eyes. “For once I’d just like a straight answer.”

“Hmmm.” He tilted his head. “I can see the future sometimes but since we’re breaking the rules… Here’s the fortune in your fortune cookie: You’re going to live a long life.”

I tightened my fists. The burning question was what kind of life.

He continued. “Yes, a long life. You’ll make some bad choices, some smart choices, and then you’ll come to a ‘big decision.’ I’m not talking about a new job or how to grow your 401k.” He settled deeper into himself. “You’re going to decide if you’ll become … me. And that question will come up again and again until it gets answered.”

 “What does that mean – Are you saying I need to become a Buddha?” I was so lost.

“Are you happy?” He countered.

“If I’m being honest, it feels as if something’s missing from my life. Like I’m hurrying toward a bus stop but never finding it. I just keep running, searching, knowing that if I could just catch this bus, I’d get to where I’m supposed to be. Or doing what I’m supposed to be doing. It’s a muddle.”

“I see you know what unhappiness feels like.  You’re not alone. Human beings can’t help but think it’s all about ‘me’.” He reached out his index finger and touched the spot between my eyebrows. “Me, me, me… so much misery from this little word.”

As he spoke, I felt my sense of self drop away. Without any label, I saw life expressing itself. Just life. There was no sense of loss, no sense of right or wrong. Chaos had its place. It was so clear. Peace also had its place. And nothing was personal. Yet everything was intensely part of my experience.

In a few short minutes, it was over.  I felt myself return to my body. To the small self which constantly fought for answers and control. It was weaker now, less dense. I could continue to struggle, try to wrestle life into my limited understanding of it or I could learn to let go. Like the Buddha. Like Jesus. Like nature itself. Effortless effort a yoga teacher once called it. I never understood that at the time.

The incense started to burn my eyes. A vibration started at the base of my spine like the singing of a Tibetan bowl. Our time was almost up.

The light around me grew brighter and brighter. I could barely see Buddha’s outline as I became engulfed in golden flame. “Om mani padme hum, sister. Learn to be compassionate to your amazing self.” He opened one eye and winked. “Just remember… being the Buddha is no excuse to let loose on the donuts. A big belly is optional. And one more thing… I believe in you.”

The buzzing sensation grew louder until I couldn’t think. As quick as a snap, I was back at the café. “Well, miss, have you decided yet?”

Photo by Alice Popcorn 


you are like a star part of the eternal perfection

Can there be anything sweeter than the kiss of a mind gone mad?
What magisty of noise and purpose!
Do you think God loves the crazies?

Those folks with hearts bigger than Texas and minds that have no idea what to do with them?
What about our bodies?
Do they forgive us our overindulgence, our stuffing down of pain?

Vows of suffering and poverty…
What place do they play in the soul’s evolution?
Can we chose again this lifetime?

Will we burn in hell?
Oh, those shackles of thought
…No story ever told is true

“Shackles” prompt courtesy of OSI

Photo courtesy of Alice Popkorn



temple of peace

Red M&Ms when I want blue
Questions and pleadings to beings more enlightened than I

All so hollow

And then
A flash, an internal answer

What if some dreams (maybe even your biggest) weren’t meant to come true?

What if you were given a reason?
…And it had nothing to do with being unworthy, or being punished for the past, or that you have karma to work out

What if grace was leading you to better dreams…

Would it make a difference?

Like chain smoking, misery is a hard addiction to break.
How do I define my life without the push and the pull?

Today I received an angelic communiqué.  Yes, I’ll just come out and say it…

Grace blew me away

Photo by Alice Popcorn
The prompt “Hollow” courtesy of the ever wonderful OSI

Bad Bangs

I did it to myself

Followed the directions to a T.

Stepped into the shower and washed out all the goop.

Dripping, I entered a steamy world of white.

The mirror showed me nothing.  Not yet.  Too soon.

Rub, rub… oh the toes were a-tapping.  Time to peek?  Just a little one?


Grab the hair dryer… Point at the mirror… flip the switch and let it roar.

Oh… soon!  Soon the New Me!

Perfect circle forms on glass too revealing, too sharp.

I stand transfixed.

This cannot be…there must be some mistake!

My hair is strawberry-yellowy?  Incandecent orange?  WHAT THE HELL IS IT?

I grab clippers and feel the vibration in my hand as I ponder.

Bad bangs were the least of my problems.

I must stop doing this to myself.

And I will…

Right after I fix this.

Just this.

Thanks to OSI for the awesome prompt, Incandescent.


She felt her thighs quiver

Pushing her finger against her stomach an “Oh hoo hoo” escaped before she could stop it.

The Pillsbury Doughboy always had the last word.

And though she’d love to spend every last cent on fashion

She paused.

The quagmire was this:

Glossy images or better health?  Shoes or self-realization?

Biting her nails, feeling her heart skitter like Chie Mihara heels against a hardwood floor,

She made her decision and closed the laptop.

Was it thunder she heard in the background or perhaps, just maybe,

Her integrity?

(Thanks to OSI for the writing prompt, quagmire.)
(photo by SashaW)