For Sale_ This Old House

Sensei Canna offers insight into the real world of self defense!

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Re: For Sale_ This Old House

Postby Van Canna » Mon Dec 25, 2017 6:50 am

ImageImage :cry:Image
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Re: For Sale_ This Old House

Postby Van Canna » Mon Dec 25, 2017 3:53 pm

It was late at night this Christmas eve.

I had left the driveway pole light on suffusing a soft amber glow on the pathway to the front door of the house.

I went to my second floor ‘computer room’ once my son’s bedroom …darkened the room and I waited while still looking out the window and listening for the doorbell …any bell…to ring.

There was an edge of tears in my silent hope of a miracle.

Would my boy emerge from the darkness, walk spritely up the driveway and ring the doorbell in radiant happiness at his coming home again to his Mom and dad?
:cry:
And then a voice very faint and far away…’Do you hear me coming dad…do you hear me’ ?

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Re: For Sale_ This Old House

Postby Van Canna » Mon Jan 01, 2018 4:47 am

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wj1Mu3yM-uc

Come and sit by my side if you love me
Do not hasten to bid me adieu
But remember the Red River Valley
And the one that has loved you so true
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Re: For Sale_ This Old House

Postby Van Canna » Tue Jan 02, 2018 4:58 pm

This very old family house, my father’s house, where I was born and brought up, will never change its imprint into the dust of my dreams that will continue to blend together to form and endless, seamless stream of evocation.

Image

The mystery of this old house revealed to me as a living entity at an early age_ destined to capture the essence of my life … remaining a living story with each of its rooms holding captive _’the past’, the ‘then present’ and the yet ‘to be’ separate chapters of my life to come.

It is strange that in my reveries and dreams _ I also see the spaces in between its furnishings and even in between my toys... strewn about in my toys’ room…that made up my world then in the midst of uncertainties.

That empty air where family and friends shared being alive together, and where so many wonderful and also terrible things happened because of that available space.
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Re: For Sale_ This Old House

Postby Van Canna » Tue Jan 02, 2018 5:01 pm

And the discovery that beyond all the positive benefits of protection, this old house, my father’s house, was to become imbued with dream values which have remained long after our destined departure from it.

I see my mother’s tears, the sometimes solitude and day dreaming, the happiness and the sorrows, and the realization that we were in a space we could inhabit but that someday would disappear, all but the dreams of it.


And in my daydreaming to escape present sorrow, I feel the interior of my old house as a geometry of echoes …the voices of the past not sounding the same as when living there as a child…my mother’s calling my name from a balcony on Christmas day has got another very different yet familiar and beloved sound.
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Re: For Sale_ This Old House

Postby Van Canna » Tue Jan 02, 2018 5:01 pm

This is my real house of memories, the house in which I return to in dreams - that hold my childhood experiences in the midst of an existing primordial relationship of my ancestors with the same space…

...forming a feeling of this house having been mostly a spectator of my family’s life vicissitudes.
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Re: For Sale_ This Old House

Postby Van Canna » Thu Mar 29, 2018 9:38 pm

At the foot of the rainbow

You are suddenly awake.

It is a few minutes past midnight. Your room is all-dark. A single faint
Light gleams out from the hallway of the house.

There is no sound except the hooting of an old owl in the top of a water-oak, and the everlasting voice of the sea that is not uplifted at that soft, melancholy hour.

It breaks like a mournful lullaby upon the night.

You know your beautiful childhood garden is no more.

And your tears come fast, from a familiar part of your consciousness, filling your whole being with a vague anguish, like a shadow, a mist passing across your soul’s Summer day.

It is strange yet familiar, a riveting midnight spell.

Knock, knock__ loud thumps on your bedroom door, but you know there is no one there. Strange sounding music in the distance.

Slowly it dawns on you it is your subconscious hammering to be heard.

So you drift.. You see your face strangely reflecting to infinity in a string of mirrors. The many faces of your longing to tell the tale of sensations and events of your ordinary and not so ordinary peaks and valleys of your life.

As in a lifelike painting you see the self pawing across your human texture slowly grasping at its joys and sorrows.

In the life of each of us there are so many tales to tell, infinite yarns of personal, and some others’ experiences __ and depths of feelings of which we know all in detail,now taking structure in the mind by past voices, images, hopes , things overheard, things foreseen, things supposed.
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Re: For Sale_ This Old House

Postby Van Canna » Thu Mar 29, 2018 9:40 pm

Midnight spell.

As your gaze shifts from the far mirror image to the nearest…oh God.. You have aged so much; your physiognomy is so different than what you remember from your younger years.

Why the aversion of looking at your self in the mirror? Are you afraid of the many faces scowling in judgement?

You look away, your eyes falling upon an old trunk by your bed__ you know why it is still there.

It is the baggage of your life weighing on your curving shoulders.

Aging, this large trunk keeps on bulging at the seams more and more, and you are ever so inclined to lift the lid and rummage its contents.
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Re: For Sale_ This Old House

Postby Van Canna » Thu Mar 29, 2018 9:42 pm

God, so many things.

And you think of the dust of your years in that trunk, and your reflections upon it as wings of a gentle eternal wind in a soft caress, stirring the sediment of the past, although brief, yet sufficient to leave the mark of thousands and thousands of passages, of a thousand faces, of a thousand voices, of a thousand touches and gestures, of a thousand scents, of a thousand colors, of a thousand sunsets, a thousand looks, a thousand gazes into the eyes of lovers and friends, of thousands of offenses given and received, of a thousand gifts__

A thousand cries and laughs, a thousand hand shakes, of a thousand of caresses, a thousand nights of insomnia, of a thousand roads traveled, of a thousand fears, high anxieties, of a thousand hopes dashed, of a thousand of lost opportunities…..

Then you realize it all again multiplies by a thousand.
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Re: For Sale_ This Old House

Postby Van Canna » Thu Mar 29, 2018 10:17 pm

At age 19, in the summer months I worked as a controller in a beautiful resort, a health spa wonder with natural healing waters springs flowing in the midst of beautiful flower gardens.

People came from all over the country to experience its healing properties

Music, bands, café bars, parties, casual strolling in joyous laughter in the gardens.

The end of September was my last tour of duties.

The biggest ever __ end of the season party was planned for a Saturday night. Dancing, friends, great food.

I worked the early shift on that Saturday, and went home at three in the afternoon to take a nap and freshen up for the biggest party of my life.

I slept like a rock until two AM. I awakened in a cold sweat and ran all the way back there only to see the last of the stragglers heading home. I was told it had been a glorious event.
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Re: For Sale_ This Old House

Postby Van Canna » Thu Mar 29, 2018 10:19 pm

Deep Sea »

Van,

I read, and have re-read, with interest this style of your writings and photos, and am always impressed with the beauty, calmness, and longings I read in your paragraphs.

You reach out and allow others to grasp your feelings as if they, themselves were there with you.

Uechi-ryu is hard and soft. Outside these jewels of innerglow you are known not for your softness.

If one can begin to understand his sensei, then he has come a long way in learning how to understand himself.
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Re: For Sale_ This Old House

Postby Van Canna » Sat Apr 07, 2018 6:37 pm

Yet another anniversary of the cruelty of life to my beloved son.Image

My mind takes me back to my old house and the days of torment are there in ambush...losing myself in thought while the time slowly flows. There is no escaping the desolation and despair.

Empty…deserted the house became when immersed in my anxieties the evening shadows frightened my room …

Then a shout of grief pierces the falling darkness and echoes in the mind. But why and where from? The past? The present? Maybe the future? A voice in the shout that seems familiar.

Then a solemn silence strikes as the hammer of Thor…must now navigate lost in a sea of never ending sadness.
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Re: For Sale_ This Old House

Postby Van Canna » Sun Apr 08, 2018 5:41 am

But who were those figures dressed in black?

To understand I chose to talk to them.

I have mentally returned in a dream while being awake, looking at old pictures of my little boy but having before my eyes images of a dream.

I get closer to one of those shadows and pose a flurry of questions poised to make emotional notes straight off any answers.

These dark entities are foreign to me but have entered from doors that are now shut as if in giving me time to assimilate the reality they were bringing.

It began to dawn that that these black clad phantoms were my subconscious warriors suggesting some sort of solution to an impossible problem…the _ being able of finding a connection with a part of me, hidden even from the subconscious that other dreams had revealed it was not in a happy place…
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Re: For Sale_ This Old House

Postby Van Canna » Sun Apr 08, 2018 6:00 am

My 'reasoning' is allowed to 'blurt' but the shadows remain untouched by it, at least momentarily.

Then I sense 'happenings' slowly being assimilated by the subconscious ...but it is a very slow process with a no ending time frame.

They are 'neutral' and suggestive of me and time together _to arrive at some sensible communication with the conscious mind.
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Re: For Sale_ This Old House

Postby Van Canna » Sun Apr 08, 2018 8:33 pm

...that finally I would be able to find a way, one day at a time, forever removing that sensation of helplessness in dealing with sorrow and sadness, that I knew was to become my constant companion some day.
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