The Frame of Perception
Eyes see the earthen frame;
Look out unto sky and the tree leaves filtering my view.
The meaning attached to what I see is chosen;
Habitually, given my current qualities of perception.
The frames, the scafolding, the filters of how I see the World,
Need my constant attention.
A cool breeze, brushing my hair,
Skin tuned to the waves,
Inspired by Palms waving in harvest moon light,
Gratitude swells to the surface.
How I think, what I focus on and fill in mental space,
In my head,
Is what creates the experience.
Emotion generated, calls forth the sensate field of my experience.
That is what is meant by I create my reality.
I seek Divine guidance, I appeal to His providence.
It is Simple, as I open my Heart to this Earth.
The Guides, the Angels--His Emissaries, they listen and respond.
Counting on that truth, I then sit in a pleasing, hopeful awareness.
I am guided by what is Beautiful and True.
My part is to listen.
My part is to partake in Creation's flow...
In mind, in deed, with arms open,
As I be who I want, do my part, and have a harvest.
It is Gold He offers me.
I want to see that each day of my Life.
I am his Heart-Mind Son.
September 22, 2007.
WAITING MY TURN AT THE BARBER SHOP
As I wait, you sweep away the person's hair before me.
Who were they before their turn was taken?
And who are they now after their turn?
They look, smile or not, then busily take leave.
Expectantly, eagerly, I sit in your chair of wondrously Whirling shears and Snips.
Entranced, I drift back to the time as a boy
When you Electro-buzzed my head,
Tuning my whole body to a gleeful hum.
You always wait until I've gone, then you sweep my hair.
Where do those shreds of hair go?
Those curly colored textures, encoded with one's vanity!
Silky-soft or straight, with months,
Years, or decades embedded.
The hair falls like thoughts from my head that I no longer kneed.
I'd like to see where it goes.
I'd like to rub my fingers in it from a neat pile,
Just once more.
Don’t mix my hair with another's…it’s like mixing my
Thoughts with a stranger's.
Who, in me, did I bring for you to shed this time?
While I look, who am I now after I’ve taken my turn?
I smile or not, and then busily,
I take leave.
Comments:
Originally, Waiting My Turn At The Barber Shop was meant to convey the basically sensate, passive, and rather blissful experience of having my hair cut as a young boy, growing–up in St. Louis. As an extension, with the continuum of life development in mind, the added dimensions of self-identity, introspection, and existential angst were meant to reflect the tendency, and often the fallacy, of affixing one’s primary identity to one’s outward reflections. Hair, or lack thereof, is conjoined with the head and the realm of thought—the pattern maker of self-identity.
Bay Tide Estuarine
On-looking…quiet glaze,
Mirrored sheet of soft fire-pink hues,
A dusky tided recession.
Here, my mind’s field is dotted with these
Supping, winged,
Tropical creatures.
Sharing in plenty, they are endlessly sustained:
Fat floating Mallards,
Staccato Pipers dragging the sand,
Huge gulping Pelicans.
Masterful Herons meditate
In languid,
Silent strides.
They dot the Bays cape
Like dreamy tranquil
Thoughts.
In this sublime space,
A single feather,
Floats by…
While, in distant sight,
Man’s noxious powering spew gushes Eastward,
For all creatures to absorb, Subtly…In their breath.
Comments:
Bay Tide Estuarine came to me one early evening at dusk, on a secluded Florida inlet bay shore. It speaks to the omnipresent pull of the natural world upon human consciousness, where integration of mind, body and spirit can occur. In this rather Taoist moment, a sense of merging occurred, as if Nature itself spoke of its divine presence in contrast to the more base and encroaching side of man’s economic development.
Winter Sky
Now that winter is here,
the Sun welcomes in
more notable periods of warmth
and pleasure.
The Body, eager to have solace,
leans into, and is readily comforted by,
the Sun, and its fruits.
We listen to the air in winter,
The wind, the cold breeze,
wakes-up consciousness--
We notice Nature's voice, we become it.
The Body responds and is invigorated.
The Mind, now soothed,
is able to know Peace.
You look to the blue cool sky,
you breathe-in brisk air,
the Body knows it is alive.
Comforted, you know you are
Her child, as well as His.
You stand under a winter's
purple Mackerel Sky,
and time stops.
If a snows cape is in view,
you may weep.
In presence of true Beauty, in awe,
a gleeful cellular song surges forth.
The body tunes-up.
The song is to Life,
It says, YES!
Our connection to Earth,
placed upon Her lap,
gifts to the Body--Peace.
Then, allowing Serenity,
the Mind's corollary to Peace,
Winter brings us closer to Home
...once again.
The Florida View
Moon glow, half blown,
Floating in the summer sky.
Stencil stars spark
Amidst an ambient urban night;
Umbrella Palm overhead.
Look-up and through,
Look-up to these things--
They form the Florida view.
You smell the dew,
It drops from Snowbush leafs.
Frogs and Geckos
In chorus, sing together.
This summer night is enough for all.
Ole Gulf Waters
Florida miming, Sunshine go!
Washing, rinsing from head to toe,
Ole Gulf Waters ebbing flow.
Sun Bath on whiteness sand,
I smell a heavy salted hand,
And feet, and lips,
And bosom taut with seaweed grit.
Heads in deep--bottoms-up,
Immersing in her warm womb cup,
Calling all to her lap,
Ole Gulf Waters,
A nectar-sap.
Ode to the Sensitive Man
The man who feels deeply,
Also loves deeply.
As he looks upon his world,
And hears the sounds of its voices,
He perceives more richly
And sees more clearly, than many.
He is attuned to the Great Mother’s
Voice—She also speaks through him.
His is the voice of the Earth.
His body knows the pains of the world, and
The higher planes of Beauty and Truth.
His deep river of emotion may rise,
And its banks overflowing, yet,
He is delicately aware and intuitive.
He is the Passionate Man.
He is provided with the privilege
Of touching Love’s vast essence,
And of weaving Love’s rich fabric.
Through his vision,
He holds great Power.
In speaking his truth,
He vibrates in this Power.
And with this Gift,
There are no apologies.
It is Earth Power.
It is Warrior Power.
It is His Power.
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Resume'
Personal Comments:
Born February 22, 1960, St. Louis, Missouri. All academic coursework for Speech-Language Pathology, and undergraduate Psychology completed in three Missouri and Illinois Universities, including the University of Missouri, Columbia, 1984 through 1992. Current employment objectives include: Speech Pathology department administrative/supervisor/manager opportunities—preferably in Acute Hospital, research opportunities if applicable, SLP clinical trainer/educator position. We are re-locating to St. Louis, MO area.
Academic Preparation:
M.A. Psychology, Institute for Transpersonal Psychology, Palo Alto, California, June 2003. Seventy-five hours of Ph.D. level coursework were successfully completed.
M.S. Speech-Language Pathology, Southern Illinois University, Edwardsville, IL, September 1992.
B.S. Speech-Language Pathology and Audiology, minor in Psychology,
Eastern Illinois University, Charleston, IL, August 1991.
Professional and Clinical Experiences:
· January 1, 2005 to present, Full-time staff Speech-Language Pathologist for both Kindred Hospital Central Tampa, and Bay Area Tampa—Long-Term Acute-Catastrophic Care. PRN Speech-Language Pathologist for University Community Hospital and Clinics, Tampa, FL
· August 2003 to December 2004: PRN staff Speech-Language Pathologist, Palm Gardens of Clearwater, FL, PRN Speech-Language Pathologist for University Community Hospital and Clinics, Tampa, FL and PRN for University Hospital Home Health Care.
· October 2001 to June 2003: Staff Speech-Language Pathologist with Sutter Health at Mills-Peninsula Health Center in San Mateo, CA, Peninsula Medical Center in Burlingame, CA, and San Mateo County Hospital, San Mateo, CA. Included CFY supervisor and student intern supervisory responsibilities.
· March 2001 to February 2002: Private Practice to individuals and provided contractual Speech-Language Pathology services to a home health care agency, as well as sub-acute and long-term care services in Pacifica, CA.
· September 1999 to March 2001: Stanford University Hospital and Clinics, Palo Alto California, provided Home Health care SLP contractual services.
· May 1996 to August 1999: Private Practice and PRN Speech –Language Pathologist in Sub-Acute, Hospital- Acute, Outpatient, ALF, Long-Term Care, Home Health Care in Manatee, Pinellas, and Hillsborough Counties, Florida. Primary work setting was in serving home health care medically compromised 0-3 pediatrics patients for St. Joseph’s Hospital, Tampa, FL.
· November 1994 to April 1996: Symphony Rehabilitation Services Speech-Language Pathologist for Long-Term and Sub-Acute care facilities in Sarasota and Venice, Florida. Dysphagia program development emphasized.
· August to November 1994: Group One Therapy, Traveling
Speech –Language Pathologist, St. Petersburg, FL.
· May to August 1994: Incarnate Word Hospital and Lutheran Medical Center, St. Louis, MO PRN Speech-Language Pathologist Acute Care including video fluoroscopic swallow studies.
· September 1993 to June 1994: ST. Louis Public Schools, Speech-Language Pathologist, providing diagnostic and remediation services to four Magnet schools, and school system diagnostician duties to two other schools. CFY completion.
· January—August 1993: Mississippi Valley Rehabilitation Services, CFY
Speech-Language Pathologist providing services to two East St. Louis, IL
area hospitals, including video fluoroscopic swallow studies, Long-Term
Care facilities, Outpatient and Home Health to adult and pediatric
populations.
· Examples of Continuing Educational experiences for last ten years:
Pharyngeal Dysphagia and EMG Monitoring, Assessment and Treatment
Right Hemisphere Syndrome Differential Diagnosis
Harvard Conference on Neurology
Oral-Motor Assessment and Remediation for Pediatrics
Child Abuse and Developmental Communication Disorders
Clinical Management of Adults Requiring Tracheotomy
Tubes and Ventilators
Dysphagia Management in the Long-term Care Setting
Treatment and Assessment Strategies in TBI Adults
Myofascial Release and Cranial Sacral Techniques for Pediatric Population.
Psycholinguistic Aspects of Foreign Accent Reduction
Oro-Motor Assessment and Treatment of 0-3yr Population
Sensory Integration for the Speech-Language Pathologist
Feeding and Swallowing issues for 0-3yr Pediatric Population in ICU.
Aphasia, Dysarthria and Apraxia: Update in Assessment and Treatment
Ethics of Dysphagia Management and Treatment
VitalStim Therapy: Electro-Stimulation for Dysphagia
Neuroanatomy and Physiology for Rehabilitation
Research Interests:
- Unpublished Scholarly Overview 27 page paper on Stuttering:
Vocal Inhibition Syndrome: Forming a Multi-dimensional
Perspective and Theoretical Construct, Institute of Transpersonal
Psychology, Palo Alto, CA, fall 2002.
- Unpublished Qualitative Research 44 page paper:
Qualitative Thematic Analysis of Stuttering and Self Identity,
Institute of Transpersonal Psychology, Palo Alto, CA, fall 2000.
Certification/Professional Affiliations:
Present member American Speech-Language and Hearing Association, holding Certificate of Clinical Competence, #01120887-02
ASHA Division 4 member, Fluency and Fluency Disorders
Previously held California CCC/SLP License #: SP 11552
Current Florida CCC/SLP License #: SA 7148
CCC/SLP member, American Academy of Private Practice in Speech Pathology and Audiology.
Further current references will be provided upon request.
Audrey Poems
Poems by Jaymes Hanny
Her First Smile
Crinkle face and fatty cheeks,
We see today what pleasure makes.
Upon our sight we see her do,
Retracting lips, cheeks do too.
Onto our eyes, a sweet reveal,
Coming forth piecemeal.
Her face became a pleasant isle,
Eyes fixed on ours awhile,
For there I saw her First Smile!
Dreaming
Rainy wind-song taking toll
Asleep, embedded, her dreams unroll.
We stay a family in this place,
Contented caring face to face,
Held together basking here,
While rooftop droplets attend our ears.
We hee and hum a nesting tune,
Peaceful morning arriving soon.
The stormy chorus quiet takes,
Amazing now, the baby wakes!
Quietude
Quietude plays a simple note,
Underneath it is where your best time is spent.
The tone is set,
Senses tune down,
We slip together into serenity...
There, to do nothing,
Is the greatest comfort.
Appeal to my Creator
Patten maker is it done,
Have we ceased to be spun?
For it is lovely to be one,
From thou orchestral wand.
I try and nap and dream and seek,
I look to the merry and to the meek,
For is it true just to wake,
To a new and clear pattern make?
A fabric rich do we take,
For this world can no longer wait.
Southern Breezes
Amid the toils it is said,
If a baby's to be fed,
The milk must be a temp the eases,
Gassy cries and southern breezes.
Halted is her furrowed brow,
Rubbing bellies, knowing how,
Silence comes to all that ceases,
Gassy cries and southern breezes.
Of All Methods
In presence of her Mother's breath,
Her wisp she knows, giving rest,
To all that tears the baby's crest.
Yet, a supple touch upon the breast,
Of all methods is the best.
A Parent's Hand
It's perfectly sensible as sense can be,
That an infant's cry can find relief,
Only through a parent's hand,
Attending touch, assuring strand,
Persistent presence of scent, of sound,
For nowhere else can this be found.
Squirrelly-Girlie
Squirrelly-girlie, Squirmy you,
Wiggly-wonder on the move,
You want the milk from
Mother's hand,
Tossing-round antsy-pants.
Settle down your whirling head,
And allow your mouth to be fed.
We Send Away
Belly to Belly here you lay,
Rising and falling on a breath-wave.
We quietly rest at this day's end,
And here we send,
Your toils and trials away,
Out to the Sea,
On the rising wave,
Of Daddy's cush-belly.
Shave
We caress together cheek to cheek
Audrey's hair scented sweet.
A briskly brush atones a sigh,
A rugged whisker gives a cry;
A shaven beard is my reply.
Jazzy-Baby
Torme tuning a jazz appeal,
Audrey swinging taking meal.
We groove along this morning tide,
Face to face, side by side.
We slide in rhythm---Exuberance brings,
And "Dat Der" Torme sings,
To us again, a gleeful rush,
Retracting lips, a happy brush---
Across our brows,
And again we see,
A morning loud with tinctured tunes,
Som'ma songs until this noon,
Pouring forth blissful moods.
Sacred Space
We light a match for sacred space,
Abiding in protected place,
Upon a roll into which,
We see a Joy, a welcome nitch,
Where all is calm, sublime with flow,
From head to toe, we are anew,
In here and now,
I am here with You.
At Home with You, the Cats, and Me
Watch me Daddy, explore I will,
Every sight and texture laid in path,
Draws me there, no end until,
I have absorption bath.
Experience run, sensorium field,
Awakens loud--satisfaction yield.
I must toss and turn, rolling free,
Chasten next, discernment be,
Your watchful eye attending me.
I crawl at speeds amazement brings,
Secure I am in pleasant seas,
Swimming now, all movement sings,
At home with you,
The cats, and Me.
The Baby Strut
Goody grip from toe to mouth,
Fancy feet tumbling 'bout,
Bobbling booties, we wonder what,
Merry makes this baby strut,
In silly sync with cutie coos this morning long,
With gummy grins,
And melodies made in sonorous song.
Her First Smile
Crinkle face and fatty cheeks,
We see today what pleasure makes.
Upon our sight we see her do,
Retracting lips, cheeks do too.
Onto our eyes, a sweet reveal,
Coming forth piecemeal.
Her face became a pleasant isle,
Eyes fixed on ours awhile,
For there I saw her First Smile!
Dreaming
Rainy wind-song taking toll
Asleep, embedded, her dreams unroll.
We stay a family in this place,
Contented caring face to face,
Held together basking here,
While rooftop droplets attend our ears.
We hee and hum a nesting tune,
Peaceful morning arriving soon.
The stormy chorus quiet takes,
Amazing now, the baby wakes!
Quietude
Quietude plays a simple note,
Underneath it is where your best time is spent.
The tone is set,
Senses tune down,
We slip together into serenity...
There, to do nothing,
Is the greatest comfort.
Appeal to my Creator
Patten maker is it done,
Have we ceased to be spun?
For it is lovely to be one,
From thou orchestral wand.
I try and nap and dream and seek,
I look to the merry and to the meek,
For is it true just to wake,
To a new and clear pattern make?
A fabric rich do we take,
For this world can no longer wait.
Southern Breezes
Amid the toils it is said,
If a baby's to be fed,
The milk must be a temp the eases,
Gassy cries and southern breezes.
Halted is her furrowed brow,
Rubbing bellies, knowing how,
Silence comes to all that ceases,
Gassy cries and southern breezes.
Of All Methods
In presence of her Mother's breath,
Her wisp she knows, giving rest,
To all that tears the baby's crest.
Yet, a supple touch upon the breast,
Of all methods is the best.
A Parent's Hand
It's perfectly sensible as sense can be,
That an infant's cry can find relief,
Only through a parent's hand,
Attending touch, assuring strand,
Persistent presence of scent, of sound,
For nowhere else can this be found.
Squirrelly-Girlie
Squirrelly-girlie, Squirmy you,
Wiggly-wonder on the move,
You want the milk from
Mother's hand,
Tossing-round antsy-pants.
Settle down your whirling head,
And allow your mouth to be fed.
We Send Away
Belly to Belly here you lay,
Rising and falling on a breath-wave.
We quietly rest at this day's end,
And here we send,
Your toils and trials away,
Out to the Sea,
On the rising wave,
Of Daddy's cush-belly.
Shave
We caress together cheek to cheek
Audrey's hair scented sweet.
A briskly brush atones a sigh,
A rugged whisker gives a cry;
A shaven beard is my reply.
Jazzy-Baby
Torme tuning a jazz appeal,
Audrey swinging taking meal.
We groove along this morning tide,
Face to face, side by side.
We slide in rhythm---Exuberance brings,
And "Dat Der" Torme sings,
To us again, a gleeful rush,
Retracting lips, a happy brush---
Across our brows,
And again we see,
A morning loud with tinctured tunes,
Som'ma songs until this noon,
Pouring forth blissful moods.
Sacred Space
We light a match for sacred space,
Abiding in protected place,
Upon a roll into which,
We see a Joy, a welcome nitch,
Where all is calm, sublime with flow,
From head to toe, we are anew,
In here and now,
I am here with You.
At Home with You, the Cats, and Me
Watch me Daddy, explore I will,
Every sight and texture laid in path,
Draws me there, no end until,
I have absorption bath.
Experience run, sensorium field,
Awakens loud--satisfaction yield.
I must toss and turn, rolling free,
Chasten next, discernment be,
Your watchful eye attending me.
I crawl at speeds amazement brings,
Secure I am in pleasant seas,
Swimming now, all movement sings,
At home with you,
The cats, and Me.
The Baby Strut
Goody grip from toe to mouth,
Fancy feet tumbling 'bout,
Bobbling booties, we wonder what,
Merry makes this baby strut,
In silly sync with cutie coos this morning long,
With gummy grins,
And melodies made in sonorous song.
100 Poems for Audrey
I began writing poems for my daughter Audrey the first day of her life on earth. She now is 15 months old. Initially, I planned to write a poem a day for Audrey. Ambitious no doubt.
Well, as many new and not so new parents know, having the time to write each day with a newborn, and then an older child, is pretty impossible. Unless, of course, you have a live-in maid, a nanny, your parents living with you, or a whole village of willing caregivers to help with the baby.
There are some fortuitous new parents in that league. I don't know many of them. We had to go it alone by and large--not too unusual. When me wife contracted a nasty MRSA infection in hospital giving birth to Audrey, I did take the Baby home the first couple weeks, going it alone. Fortunately for me, I had a few friends that helped me with Audrey.
Most people are kind. Most people are good and want to do good things. I believe conscientiousness in the human condition reigns predominant. What I mean is that most people choose to do the right thing, more so, than the negatively hurtful and harmful thing.
I think so. And if I find myself surrounded by those that choose the hurtful and harmful (in its many forms), as an adult, more than not, with some exceptions, it probably means I have attracted that into my life. I think that is true almost all the time.
From a Father's point of view, Audrey's poems are about life as a new parent with a newborn, and the intense and ongoing growth that comes with that experience. For me, as a Father, it is the most important, and toughest, challenge of my life.
Audrey's poems are also about the human condition in our natural world today. They are also about spiritual beings having a human experience. All written I hope ( I have to be extra diligent about this part) without the pitfalls of pontification, self-endulgent ego centricity, and verbose and pretentious commentary--a free floating stream of consciousness with words and ideas that are confusing and unclear.
I'll try not to do all that when I can think of it. Constant self editing and monitoring, gets really boring too. So, for a Pisces and highly intuitive male, suseptible to emotion, with a facination for observing the dark side of life, and a much stronger drive to constantly go to and develop the higher planes of spiritual life (not necessisarily religious), not falling into the trap of self-endugent dung-a-doo-do in my writing, is a challenge.
There are other topics and essays too: Thoughs, opinions, meditations, intuitive writing--life narration from deep inner language, hopes and visions for a better world, and my attempts at getting clear about and using principles of mental science--using my mind, mindfully.
Most of my posts will be with my child in mind, from a father's point of view, creating positive thoughts and writing by example.
Jim,
September 2007
Well, as many new and not so new parents know, having the time to write each day with a newborn, and then an older child, is pretty impossible. Unless, of course, you have a live-in maid, a nanny, your parents living with you, or a whole village of willing caregivers to help with the baby.
There are some fortuitous new parents in that league. I don't know many of them. We had to go it alone by and large--not too unusual. When me wife contracted a nasty MRSA infection in hospital giving birth to Audrey, I did take the Baby home the first couple weeks, going it alone. Fortunately for me, I had a few friends that helped me with Audrey.
Most people are kind. Most people are good and want to do good things. I believe conscientiousness in the human condition reigns predominant. What I mean is that most people choose to do the right thing, more so, than the negatively hurtful and harmful thing.
I think so. And if I find myself surrounded by those that choose the hurtful and harmful (in its many forms), as an adult, more than not, with some exceptions, it probably means I have attracted that into my life. I think that is true almost all the time.
From a Father's point of view, Audrey's poems are about life as a new parent with a newborn, and the intense and ongoing growth that comes with that experience. For me, as a Father, it is the most important, and toughest, challenge of my life.
Audrey's poems are also about the human condition in our natural world today. They are also about spiritual beings having a human experience. All written I hope ( I have to be extra diligent about this part) without the pitfalls of pontification, self-endulgent ego centricity, and verbose and pretentious commentary--a free floating stream of consciousness with words and ideas that are confusing and unclear.
I'll try not to do all that when I can think of it. Constant self editing and monitoring, gets really boring too. So, for a Pisces and highly intuitive male, suseptible to emotion, with a facination for observing the dark side of life, and a much stronger drive to constantly go to and develop the higher planes of spiritual life (not necessisarily religious), not falling into the trap of self-endugent dung-a-doo-do in my writing, is a challenge.
There are other topics and essays too: Thoughs, opinions, meditations, intuitive writing--life narration from deep inner language, hopes and visions for a better world, and my attempts at getting clear about and using principles of mental science--using my mind, mindfully.
Most of my posts will be with my child in mind, from a father's point of view, creating positive thoughts and writing by example.
Jim,
September 2007
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