Gary Sackett

~ Expressing Gratitude and Love ~

Juggling Life

Balls juggling in the air
everyone carrying weight
too heavy to hold
so many — I try

So many different sizes
so many colors
so many thoughts
so many — I cry

Criss-cross patterns
left to right
right to left
up and — down

One drops and hit my toe
screaming profanities
rolling off — it disappears

I continue the act
wanting to get better
so I add — another

Bouncing around
click, clack, smash
another one flies
out the — window

No— No— No
I have to have that
running, tripping
scrambling out — the door

Comforts of home
so easy
Decisions and actions
commitments deplore
I think about, really I think
about taking — steps

So when I did
so hard, so scary
excitement and buzz
light and airy
that moment I — decided

Hurricanes, tornadoes
winds to and from
all directions — synchrony

From cannon to golf
demolishing to tennis
bowling to marbles
blown away — change

Finally I realized
the heavy balls were feathers
juggling was now
wisps of air
the balls were — energy

Another one bites the dust, another one closer to…

Photo by Cathy Sackett

Photo by Cathy Sackett

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52, a number I made it to. How did I make it so far? I survived car crashes, bullets whizzing by, surgeries and… being a father.

I’ve been a lot of places, seen, sometimes too much, places and people that most have not.

The questions, quotations and exclamation points that is our lives, we live them day to day, month to month and year to year.

I got here by taking a step every day, thankful for what I have, what I’ve done and what I’m going to do.

A inventory of my life: A beautiful wife, who loves me unconditionally, an awesome son who makes me proud, a loving family spread all over, a spacious apartment in Georgia, a house in Illinois, a constant job that gives me a great income, the ability to create beautiful spaces, a black lab, a Harley-Davidson motorcycle. I have a couple awesome friends, many acquaintances and one person who I know would give me anything I asked for.

I have been able to live in many different states, performed many different jobs and met many different people. From Sweat Lodges to Cathedrals, from homeless to dignitaries. It could be complete.

I could be content, satisfied and for the most part I am, but then why am I on my way to 53. Why do I breathe another breath?

Because…my list is not done! The list that’s on the tip of your tongue, the list you dream of but yet can’t remember.

Apparently I have a mission. It could be to build an corporate empire, travel the world, feed the masses. It could be becoming an actor, winning on Jeopardy, or inventing the next great thing.

I’ve got an idea, it’s worked so far, I’ll be me for all of eternity. I’ll continue what was started until my last heartbeat. I’ll be thankful for all I have, be kind to all. I’ll be open to the possibilities that this vast universe has blessed me with. I’ll take risks stepping through doors that appear in front of me. I’ll love…yes I’ll put love all around me until I’m 53.

Then I’ll do it again…Happy Birthday Gary, Happy Birthday to me!

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Ghost Love

Photo courtesy of Cathy Sackett

                                          Photo courtesy of Cathy Sackett

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Love is inevitable
even to the most callous soul
grasping you when you don’t want it
peeking around corners when you do
enveloped vapors of your favorite perfume
stir the mixed emotions within
glances stolen and softly returned, unwittingly

when you love or you are loved
does it fade into the ethers?
does it fold inside itself, a billion times
does it turn into a cosmic event
creating new stars
does it radiate waves of energy
like the sun
as the planet turns to the dark side
does the sun turn off
does the radiation stop
just because it went around the corner

when felt, when you open and allow
it’s like a new dawn
mist in the valleys of despair, disappear
energy abounds, smiles appear
warmth gathers

when you think it leaves
and you get quiet
you can hear, smell and feel
that moment
of Ghost Love

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Photo courtesy of Dale Lyles

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A writing after the super moon, the infamous blood moon and before this weekend’s Alchemy: The Georgia Burn.

Being human, I question, not to obsession, but a slight wonder of why did I come across the Georgia Burn website, their Facebook page and why was the happenstance of seeing the open invite to the 3OM (Three Old Men Troupe)?

3OM was looking to expand their troupe and posted 45 minutes prior to my arrival to FB. I read, intrigued, more digging and within a short time messaged the poster, which led to a face to face meeting. Is this what I want to be involved in? Do ‘they’ want me? Do ‘I’ want them? Inclusion of holding space, ritual, labyrinth, like-minded people.

It wasn’t too long before I stepped out of my own way and the realization came that this whole road I’ve been on has been mine for the asking. The conscious steps that I’ve taken since I’ve crossed the 1/2 century mark, with the aid of my sub-conscious has led and fed my yearning to be ‘home’.

My definition of home: a place where you are completely safe, more of a feeling than physical place. That space when you out of your head and in touch with your heart. The tiny, yet infinite spectrum you want to envelop yourself and others in. Maybe bliss describes it or Wayne Dyer wrote about it in “Getting in the Gap”. The space in between thoughts, that when stepped into you’re catapulted into the flicker of the beginning and the end at the same time. My feeling was of one and completeness.

And after the burn…

The rain was constant even when it stopped the mist of moisture hung in the air, beads of water rolling on canvas, falling, was nature’s drum beat. Earth’s soil turned into cake batter to shape, to gather, to mold, to bake, whatever you chose to. In some areas it was a broth awaiting the ingredients for a soup or stew. A ‘chef’s’ delight of experience.

Inclemencies of anything bring out parts of you for you to look at, the droplets of water being tiny mirrors to the soul. Being uncomfortable let’s you find comfort in other ways.

The muslin walls of the labyrinth bore the weight of the moisture, the stakes holding entry to all who entered and many did. Standing in the distance, the sound of the ceremonial center bell brought them closer to the entry. At night, the glow of the fire staff’s brought moth’s to the flame, the sound of the gong took them to the center of their choosing.

I had the honor of officiating in three ceremonies, the rain with breezes intensified the moments. Standing naked, I applied the kaolin to my body, the mixture was cold, goosebumps rose to the occasion. Asking for the universe to reveal what was needed in that brief blip of time, step by step reaching the center. The wooden mallet struck the bell, the sound struck me. The kaolin was drying as my path to the west was completed, donning my robe, raising my staff and facing east. My breath was deepened and slowed, watching my exhales dance in the firelight. I held space as the space held me.


Photo courtesy of Cathy Sackett

Though we didn’t stay for the effigy burn we did stand on that hill on two different occasions from being a guest at a same-sex wedding to watching the ‘Minotaur’ art burn. Both filled with fire.

Fire-pits and interaction, words and meanings, open hearts and laughter, thank you 3OM. Thank you to all who shared with me, from my first kilt to steak on the griddle, from guided tours to hugs.

As the short haired, aged hippie’s fingers found position, the wooden flute danced his musical breath, slowly he made it to middle, the sound of the bell struck again…again and again. Clear, clearing and clarified.

Clarification. As we listen to the whispers of life and act on them.


Positive Messages

Comfort Zone


I would like to take the time to say THANK YOU to all that post positive messages. I recently viewed some homecoming videos for soldiers and it zoomed me back in time when our son Tharon was crossing the oceans for our country. What makes it even more special is that he is comfortably sleeping in our spare bedroom visiting us from Illinois, transitioning to civilian life, making the salty tears of joy so sweet.

So easy to forget that these homecomings still happen, so easy to forget that many soldiers didn’t have love ones waiting for them and so easy to forget some tears were not for joy on their return.

My social commentary is simple. We, as a society, have become numb.

Thank you to those who stir the human emotions by example, daring to live outside the norm, beating your own drum, taking risks to do something greater. To those who Dream Big, Use Kind Words, Say I Love You, Say Please and Thank You, Being Grateful, Helping Others, Being Silly, Keeping Calm and Carrying On.

Have an Awesometastic day, week, month, year…Life