Dear ,

Have you seen any chalk creations in your neighborhood? My grandson Harry, along with his big brother and little sister, have found chalk to be a great medium for self-expression. 

At 79 years young, Dan Busch is a retired clinical social worker and marital and family therapist. Over his 50 years of practice, he has been educated and re-educated by his clients. It is impossible to forget the lessons learned through his work in prison outreach, foster and adoptive home studies, residential treatment of emotionally challenged youth, hospital staff support, and counseling of kidney dialysis patients, hospice clients, bereaved parents, and pregnant teens in a residential setting. Dan completed chaplaincy training, provided grief counseling for inner-city families and homeless clients, and worked for fifteen years in private practice as a therapist for individuals, couples, and families.

He is fortunate to be surrounded by a loving family: his wife of 47 years, Patty; their children and spouses, Taryn & Rim, and Graham & Jen; and, four grandchildren, Nora, Cyrus, Ezra, and Frankie. All live in Charlotte. He also thrives on the music of the Rolling Stones, Joni Mitchell, John Prine, Simon & Garfunkel, and the Beatles. Everlasting energy in the quest for spiritual growth and writing with a purpose of service to others has sustained him during his retirement years.

What Dan says about WordPlay

The time just before Maureen Ryan Griffin gives a prompt and putting words on a page is sacred—a temporary, necessary reservoir. As we say in the south, “it is noodling time”—a time for the assembly of observations, sensitivities, creative insight, and even questioning confusion. Maureen listens to these with her inner voice and has mastered her art in such a way that her students both understand and are inspired by her example. I particularly embrace her views on “coincidence.” She possesses an astute understanding of human nature and the connection to spirituality.  

I have attended about six of Maureen's workshops, some single day and some weekends, and have always departed challenged and grateful. Throughout my years of service, I never had the urge to put the wisdom I have gained onto paper before experiencing Maureen's knowledge and encouragement.  

 Featured Writing

Chalk Talk

by

Dan Busch

The kings of communication—texts, tweets, emails—are being out shined by what's happening at the intersection of Annlin Avenue and Moultrie Street in my Collingwood neighborhood. It's neither a well-traveled nor famous place but perhaps it should be.

Take a walk by there. If you drive, be sure to stop and get out of your car. Even before the pandemic put a choke-hold on Charlotte, a group of youngsters and their parents were marking the road with chalk, colorful inscriptions of fun and togetherness.     

Now in the midst of the “stay at home” mandate, the messages are capturing hope—a much needed commodity. Chalk talk has bloomed:

          “Be kind to your family.”

          “Keep pounding!”

          “Encourage a Sunday smile.”

          “Thank you for doing this.”

          “I will see you someday.”

Writings and flower drawings appear daily, perhaps nightly. Thus far I've not caught anyone on the pavement with chalk in hand.

 Within a ten day period, two heavy rains descend, washing everything clean. The next day: “Welcome back Annlin artists.” A subtle hint about perseverance against storms and viruses? Shortly after comes the first of several neighborhood polls:

          “Would you rather have as a pet?”

                    a) a lizard

                    b) a frog

                    c) a dog

I select frog and move on—but I am hooked. Next day I am sorry to find that lizards have won, hands down. The next survey comes a day later.

          “Which do you like better?”

                    Maroon Five

                    Jackson Five  

It is Jackson Five in a landslide.

          “What would you rather eat?”

                    Dim Sum

                    Ramen noodles

Dim Sum reigns supreme.

I start carrying a piece of my grandson's chalk on my daily walks. Today I forget. Two blocks later I discover the mother lode—on the curb a brand new 9 count box of colored chalk next to a bowl full of used chalk pieces. Has chalk talk reached the level of community spread? I pluck a green stick, write PEACE, continue on my way armed with the tool I need. Three miles later I approach the blacktop graffiti intersection. Finding an open space I scribble “Carpe Diem” and quickly scurry away, hoping to remain anonymous.

Returning home I find the day has actually seized me. Dare I risk tweaking the chalk talk tone? Thursday AM elevates my gumption. I don my best old man disguise (not a hard challenge at age 79) with sunglasses, mask, Hornets ball cap, long-sleeved flannel shirt. My gut says it is still preferable not to be caught chalking—keep the mystery alive.         

I wait until a young boy on a bicycle disappears around the corner to write:

          “Would you rather?”

                    a) Feed the hungry

                    b) Heal the sick

                    c) Shelter the homeless

                    d) All of the above

Strolling by the next day I find 45 chalk check marks for “All of the above”. My next question will simply be: “How?” Hopefully I'll get some creative answers before next Wednesday's predicted rain.

As I walk by the house that previously provided me the gift of a much needed stick of chalk, I notice a new message: “Start a conversation.” Could this become a movement? If so, I hope it never reaches its peak. Let it be!

    (Dan Busch 5/2/2020)