There is four inches of wet, heavy snow blanketing the ground and, as is the case in this part of the state, when it snows everything stops. So it is very quiet here at work and the only phone calls are from people asking how the roads are since I'm here. "Up north" this would not even constitute a snow day, schools would be open, stores would be busy, and cars would be zipping along without hesitation. Of course, I have learned not to express these thoughts out loud because they immediately tag me as "not from around here." Which sort of goes without saying since I don't talk right (rawt). I have always tried hard to fit in wherever I'm at but it's hard when the moment you speak you blow your cover. I have even gone so far as to try to talk like the natives but somehow it just sounds stupid not right (rawt).
On another note - did you catch Chris Rock last night on the Oscars. I thought I would die when he compared George Bush's job to someone working at the Gap. Along the lines of: if you went to balance your cash register and had a 7 trillion dollar deficit - your ass would be fired. Even funnier the war between Gap and Banana Republic and when they took over Banana Republic they discovered they didn't even have toxic tank tops. OMIGOD - it was too funny.
GO CHRIS!!
And so the time ticks along and the work is taking a back seat to the snow and I still can't talk right (rawt) but by golly that Chris Rock has got it so right (rawt). I mean who ever heard of a guy getting rehired for a job he has totally and completely blown, no wonder the CEO's of the big corporations think they can get away with inefficiency and lying for God's sake, POTUS gets away with it, and he's president. So I'm thinking that you lead by example but maybe that's not such a good thing to do anymore unless your leadership style is to lie, cheat, steal, and generally screw up everything you touch. Right! (Rawt!). My blogging friend, Ellen, says "Frankly, I don't trust any leader who makes me think he's going to say "LIVE FROM NEW YORK IT'S SATURDAY NIGHT" every time he opens his friggin' mouth." That's about the smirk, if you haven't noticed it. So what gives with a guy who smirks everytime he talks about hurting people? Obviously, he's not from around here.
So I'm saying, "Chris Rock for President," at least he knows it's wrong to lie and steal. That's a big step up from where we are at now. And besides isn't it about time we gave someone who isn't white, male, and old a chance to step up. I am so sick of the establishmentarianism I can't even tell you. So, maybe in this case, not being from around here would be a good thing. At least he might have the sense to do things right (rawt).
Monday, February 28, 2005
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Social Insecurity
Steve, a blogging friend I've never met, is worried about the state of the union in regard to social security. He, rightfully, is concerned that his social security will be cut by George W. and that he will have less to live on. Frightening thought as you approach the time in your life when you may not be able to earn income. As I watch my friends age and see those wrinkles in the corners of my own eyes and the hairs sprouting from my chin and thinning on my head I know that the time will come when I will no longer be climbing the employment ladder but sliding down it's rungs, one slow step at a time, to end up sitting on my ass with no earthly way to get back up. I have considered applying for the "help, I've fallen and I can't get up" spot. I may still be a little young for that but it probably pays well. Then there's the old guy in McDonald's who wipes the tables, pours coffee, and offers conversation. Probably not high paying but at least you get to meet the public. In Florida, it's popular for the old guys to bag groceries at Publix. You can find at least one in every Publix, the good ones are genial and concerned for your eggs. The bad ones snarl, snap, and throw your bags in the cart with little regard for them or you. I haven't seen any bag ladies though - we ought to form our own union - bag ladies of Publix unite!! I'm sure the wage is fair but it might be annoying to have to work the same shift with the curmudgeon, then again if you end up next to the sweet guy who gently lays your eggs in the top of the cart - who knows - paycheck today, date tomorrow. A friend swears the only reason old people don't have more affairs is because they are all afraid to take their clothes off in front of another person. Well - I can't imagine why that would be. I'm afraid to take mine off in front of myself! I see quite a few older women working behind cash registers, we are probably more trustworthy than the average 16 year old. Then again, if the government has to keep cutting social security and increasing the cost of medicare the average 16 year old may start looking like a better risk. I guess there probably isn't an age limit for car sales people, and I've noticed that the pool of realtors is growing by leaps and bounds. My father always said the only people who get paid exactly what they are worth are sales people. So for some of us selling stuff might be the answer then again, do you really want to know exactly what you are worth? I've also noticed that casinos seems to be a cottage industry for the elderly. Sitting at a slot machine is almost the perfect job, you get to sit, someone brings you free drinks, the symbols on the machine are in bold, and you can work day or night. Of course, it might be a little problem that you have to supply the start up money with little guarantee of a return. But then again that's entrepreneurship, no wonder there are so many of them in those casinos. I have noticed though that it isn't a job that provides much companionship, no one says much to the person next to them so I guess it might be best to be asocial.
Heck, why are we worrying, there's lots of jobs out there. Who needs government support. Why we can probably work all the way to our graves or the nursing home. I think Steve has greatly exaggerated the state of the state. Remember, the gray panthers, I'm thinking Steve might have a future as the leader of the new millenium gray panthers. I'm thinking that he could help save our social security, our dignity, and our arthritic joints. The only problem is that I'm not sure how well it would pay. But I'll be the first to sign up to follow.
Heck, why are we worrying, there's lots of jobs out there. Who needs government support. Why we can probably work all the way to our graves or the nursing home. I think Steve has greatly exaggerated the state of the state. Remember, the gray panthers, I'm thinking Steve might have a future as the leader of the new millenium gray panthers. I'm thinking that he could help save our social security, our dignity, and our arthritic joints. The only problem is that I'm not sure how well it would pay. But I'll be the first to sign up to follow.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Help, I Need Somebody
Do you remember when the Beatles wrote "Help"?
Help, I need somebody,
Help, not just anybody,
Help, you know I need someone, help.
When I was younger, so much younger than today,
I never needed anybody's help in any way.
But now these days are gone, I'm not so self assured,
Now I find I've changed my mind and opened up the doors.
Help me if you can, I'm feeling down
And I do appreciate you being round.
Help me, get my feet back on the ground,
Won't you please, please help me?
And now my life has changed in oh so many ways,
My independence seems to vanish in the haze.
But every now and then I feel so insecure,
I know that I just need you like I've never done before.
Help me if you can, I'm feeling down
And I do appreciate you being round.
Help me, get my feet back on the ground,
Won't you please, please help me.
When I was younger, so much younger than today,
I never needed anybody's help in any way.
But now these days are gone, I'm not so self assured,
Now I find I've changed my mind and opened up the doors.
Help me if you can, I'm feeling down
And I do appreciate you being round.
Help me, get my feet back on the ground,
Won't you please, please help me, help me, help me, oh
Help, I need somebody,
Help, not just anybody,
Help, you know I need someone, help.
When I was younger, so much younger than today,
I never needed anybody's help in any way.
But now these days are gone, I'm not so self assured,
Now I find I've changed my mind and opened up the doors.
Help me if you can, I'm feeling down
And I do appreciate you being round.
Help me, get my feet back on the ground,
Won't you please, please help me?
And now my life has changed in oh so many ways,
My independence seems to vanish in the haze.
But every now and then I feel so insecure,
I know that I just need you like I've never done before.
Help me if you can, I'm feeling down
And I do appreciate you being round.
Help me, get my feet back on the ground,
Won't you please, please help me.
When I was younger, so much younger than today,
I never needed anybody's help in any way.
But now these days are gone, I'm not so self assured,
Now I find I've changed my mind and opened up the doors.
Help me if you can, I'm feeling down
And I do appreciate you being round.
Help me, get my feet back on the ground,
Won't you please, please help me, help me, help me, oh
I have always been able to ask for help, I'm the girl in the front of the class who always had her hand up, who actually knew what hours the professors were in their offices, who attended classes for everything from child birth to income tax preparation, from woodworking to plumbing
(see the blog - "I'm not cheap, I'm frugal!" at www.oneofthehoipoloi.blogspot.com
for more on plumbing).
But you know, sometimes there just isn't a class, a teacher, a guide. You have to find your own way even when you don't know where to start or how to proceed. Steve, writer of the above mentioned blog, finds his way through the unknown with the help of beer and driven by thriftiness. Since I rarely drink, and never drink beer, and have never been known for my thrift and frugality I sure can't rely on those supports for the help I need. So where do you start when you can't find the way?
Real difficulties can be overcome, it is only the imaginary ones that are unconquerable. ~Theodore N. Vail
Overcomer's Anonymous, isn't that one of those groups? Maybe they can help. My boss used to say, "what doesn't kill us makes us stronger." I'd probably go more for that philosophy if she hadn't almost killed me.
Some of your hurts you have cured, And the sharpest you still have survived, But what torments of grief you endured From the evil which never arrived.~Ralph Waldo Emerson
And of course there is the endless variety of ways to say don't worry, be happy.
Loneliness, insomnia, and change: the fear of these is even worse than the reality. ~Mignon McLaughlin, The Second Neurotic's Notebook, 1966
And then finally of course, there are friends, family, loved ones. And isn't that the best of all, the people in our lives who reach out to lend a hand, give a hug, share a laugh.
"I know that I just need you like I've never done before...and I do appreciate you being round."
You know those Beatles just got it right a lot of the time. And no matter how long the road seems or how dark, isn't it nice to have a tune to hum, a song to sing, words and music for serenity, courage and wisdom. So it's a little dark in here but you know I'm just humming my song and going along.
Monday, February 21, 2005
Post Partum Blues
Our minister had a baby - now she has the blues. I wonder if the blues are a result of the hormones raging through her body or because in one quick and abrupt moment her identity became "Boob" instead of "Pastor." When you think about it no man ever has the experience of being a food source - it's an awesome and consuming role. What woman who has nursed her child can forget that small and demanding mouth searching for sustenance and nurture. And for most of us it isn't a totally wonderful and identity expanding role - in fact it feels more like being drowned. Of course in a short (or for her never ending) 12 weeks she's back to work and resumes her professional role along with her role as mommy. So then she can run between her office and the nursery down the hall trying to meet her needs, the baby's needs, the congregations needs, and of course the husband and other child's needs. And they wonder why we are called superwomen or desperate housewives or pick your adjectives. Of course then you hit the 50 something's and your roles shift and change and (unless you're that woman who had a baby at 54 - what's that about) you may yearn for your role as a mother but you sure don't miss that never ending demandingness of being wife, mother, worker bee. Of course we live longer than men, we train harder - we deal with more emotion, we bend over more, we juggle more balls in the air. And if that isn't enough to strengthen your heart I don't know what is.
So, as much as I want to be non-sexist and fair - I think any man who hasn't had his chest sucked on 4 or 5 hours a day for months on end (I had a friend who nursed for 3 years, a true martyr) by a crying baby hasn't really walked in our shoes.
So, as much as I want to be non-sexist and fair - I think any man who hasn't had his chest sucked on 4 or 5 hours a day for months on end (I had a friend who nursed for 3 years, a true martyr) by a crying baby hasn't really walked in our shoes.
Saturday, February 19, 2005
Weather
It's a beautiful day in the mountains - sunny and 50 - I'm thinking spring is on the way and then the weather guy says, snow showers tonight. What's that about - from the sublime to the ridiculous in one instant. Oh well, what can you do about the weather. The older I get the more I notice people talk about the weather (I mean old people), it's the first comment you hear when you meet someone - "nice day" "shitty day" "I hate rain" - ad nauseam. It's the way we relate? By weather? I especially notice this trend with older (over 50) men, I have men friends this age who watch the weather like it's a spectator sport, they can quote line and verse from the weather channel, the local weather, and the really, really up to the minute guys can give you the NOAA report. Now, maybe I am so unattractive at this time in my life that the only thing they know to say to me is "how's the weather." Better I suppose than, "you're the most unattractive woman I've seen in a long time." But, couldn't we relate to each other on some other superficial level like, "seen any good movies lately," or "how about those ......(fill in your favorite sports team). Of course they probably don't think I know much about sports, being female, over fifty, and overweight. I might mention that they also meet at least two of those parameters but then knowing about sports makes you a lot more interesting than just being over fifty and overweight. But they don't even try to make sports small talk, they talk about the WEATHER. Sometimes, I feel like asking about their sex lives, "so, did you get any last night," or their breath, "have you tried those new cinnamon Altoids," or their clothes, "how long have you had that particular shirt in your closet?." I could ask them about make up but that probably wouldn't work with most of them, you don't find too many 50 something metrosexuals around. Or maybe a question on the world bank, or Freud, or the 10 best sexual encounters they ever had. SOMETHING OTHER THAN THE WEATHER!
My father in law, bless his heart (that's what you say in the South before you say something mean about someone), is particularly keen on the weather. Of course at 83 there might not be anything else to be keen on but for God's sakes Bert, if you can read the newspaper weather report you might also try the front page or at least the Horoscope! We could have some meaningful discussion about that - "So dad what do you think about the fact that your moon is in Libra with an Aquarius trine and it doesn't look like a good day for making big decisions?" Now that would be a discussion with teeth. Instead, he says "doesn't look like a good day to wash the car, rain." And I say, "Is that right, were you planning to wash the car>" And he says, "no but if I was I couldn't do it today, paper says rain." And I say, "ahhh." And so it goes. Old guys and the weather, now that's a subject you can really get your teeth into.
My father in law, bless his heart (that's what you say in the South before you say something mean about someone), is particularly keen on the weather. Of course at 83 there might not be anything else to be keen on but for God's sakes Bert, if you can read the newspaper weather report you might also try the front page or at least the Horoscope! We could have some meaningful discussion about that - "So dad what do you think about the fact that your moon is in Libra with an Aquarius trine and it doesn't look like a good day for making big decisions?" Now that would be a discussion with teeth. Instead, he says "doesn't look like a good day to wash the car, rain." And I say, "Is that right, were you planning to wash the car>" And he says, "no but if I was I couldn't do it today, paper says rain." And I say, "ahhh." And so it goes. Old guys and the weather, now that's a subject you can really get your teeth into.
Thursday, February 17, 2005
Does anyone really know what time it is
Does anyone really care - about time. Time enough for crying, time enough for dying - time.
It's been a long day at the circle K. Talking, talking, talking. I'm all talked out. It's harder to figure out yourself than anyone else. I'm so good at understanding others but buddy when it comes to me - UGH. I just can't get it. Sometimes it feels like a weight on my shoulders, this need to understand, to figure it out, to get it.
I am so tired of working on it and not finding the answer to the question. Does anyone really know what time it is because I sure don't. Is it time to stay, time to go. Time to laugh, time to cry. Often I think it's just time to shut up. This pressure to have the answer is a pain in the ass.
And so I wait. The long and winding road - I'm on it - can't find my way back home. Our minister asked the kids in church Sunday if they had ever thrown bread crumbs out to find there way back when they went on a hike. My bread crumbs have been devoured by crows and there ain't no path to follow. I hope I don't end up in the witches oven!
And so I hope. Hope that tomorrow will be a quieter day, hope that the road goes on forever and the party never ends, hope that I am not destined to be stew meat for a witch. Too tired to finish, too tired to start. To sleep perchance to dream..............
It's been a long day at the circle K. Talking, talking, talking. I'm all talked out. It's harder to figure out yourself than anyone else. I'm so good at understanding others but buddy when it comes to me - UGH. I just can't get it. Sometimes it feels like a weight on my shoulders, this need to understand, to figure it out, to get it.
I am so tired of working on it and not finding the answer to the question. Does anyone really know what time it is because I sure don't. Is it time to stay, time to go. Time to laugh, time to cry. Often I think it's just time to shut up. This pressure to have the answer is a pain in the ass.
And so I wait. The long and winding road - I'm on it - can't find my way back home. Our minister asked the kids in church Sunday if they had ever thrown bread crumbs out to find there way back when they went on a hike. My bread crumbs have been devoured by crows and there ain't no path to follow. I hope I don't end up in the witches oven!
And so I hope. Hope that tomorrow will be a quieter day, hope that the road goes on forever and the party never ends, hope that I am not destined to be stew meat for a witch. Too tired to finish, too tired to start. To sleep perchance to dream..............
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Blessings
May the road rise up
to meet you
may the wind be always at your back
May the sun shine warm
on your face
And the rain fall soft
upon your fields
And until we meet again, May God hold you
in the palm of his hand.
—an old Irish Blessing
When Chris, our son, was in high school I used this blessing for his page in his senior year book. I wanted to let him know that no matter where he goes or how far from home that this blessing goes with him. Now he is engaged to be married - time flies. I wonder how his life will unfold, what dreams will he realize and which will die. I pray that he will always feel the rain softly, the wind gently at his back, and the sun warm upon his face. It seems such a short time ago that he was an infant, helpless and dependent. And now, he asks for so little from us, is so self sufficient and undemanding that I almost forget how far we have come from his first days. I pray that his life will be uncomplicated by tragedy, that he will do good for others, that his gifts will be fully realized in whatever community he becomes a part of. I pray that God will hold him in the palm of his hand and that Chris will have the sense to feel the love with which he is held.
When I think of the children in the world who have not been so blessed it is wrenching. I cannot imagine how a mother feels who must watch her children suffer or how those children's souls, are perhaps, compromised by misery. When you have born a child, carried them in your belly, fed them at your breast, it is as if every pain they feel is your own, every sling and arrow a piercing of your own heart. The impossible dream - a world in which every child has a life uncomplicated by tragedy, the opportunity to do good for others, a world that is the stage for their gifts to be bestowed upon. What would that world look like and why is it so hard to imagine? I think women have to take the lead in this vision because we have this connection to our children that is so primal, because we are driven by this instinct to protect and nurture. Our sons must learn, not only, duty and responsibility, but compassion and caring. To see the world not as a field to conquer but as a home to nurture. And our daughters, who carry with them this vision, must stand up and say enough each time a child is sacrificed. We can teach our children to envision the world differently, to be actors upon a stage of goodness and creation. If we live in darkness we are still able to see the light, to find a path towards it, and to lead others with us. May God hold us (gently) in the palm of his/her hand.
Monday, February 14, 2005
LOVE on Valentines Day 2005
If they will listen,
sing them a song. If not, keep silent ...just be there among them.
Because there is nothing else
for you to be
but one of them.— Chuang Tzu
Love is the background music to my life. It is the song that carries me along on a wave of happiness and contentment. Love is the sound of friends laughing, children chattering, lovers gasping. Love makes the world go round and round and round. So, having said that, I wonder how it is possible to live in this world without love. The sorrow of never knowing that someone loves you, of never being held, of never sharing - that is a sorrow so great that I cannot believe that it could be born - and yet there are those who are bearing it. It is unimaginable to me. Jesus said "love thy neighbor" and yet we live in a world where neighbors blow each other up, where children die never knowing love, where hatred grows like some black and twisted plant taking over the air, the water, the earth. Where is love?
Love is the background music to all life - the song of creation. Love is the sound of rivers rushing, oceans roaring, sunshine crackling, moonlight beaming. Love is the world in spite of sorrow, pain, loss. Love makes the world go round and round and round. Showing love is the bravest act of the weakest man - a reaching out in spite of differences, in spite of fear, in spite of learning. The power of love is so great because love doesn't seek power. Love gives new meaning to everything. Love forgives, forgets, sanctifies, blesses. Love is.
So, on this day of love, in the year of 2005, we are left to wonder if love will conquer all. To trust that all you need is love. To believe that in the end love is all you need. To know that love in all it's manifestations is the gift that is ours to take. All you need is love.
And if no one has said "I love you" today - I love you and Happy Valentine's Day. Sorry I can't send you chocolates by owl.
sing them a song. If not, keep silent ...just be there among them.
Because there is nothing else
for you to be
but one of them.— Chuang Tzu
Love is the background music to my life. It is the song that carries me along on a wave of happiness and contentment. Love is the sound of friends laughing, children chattering, lovers gasping. Love makes the world go round and round and round. So, having said that, I wonder how it is possible to live in this world without love. The sorrow of never knowing that someone loves you, of never being held, of never sharing - that is a sorrow so great that I cannot believe that it could be born - and yet there are those who are bearing it. It is unimaginable to me. Jesus said "love thy neighbor" and yet we live in a world where neighbors blow each other up, where children die never knowing love, where hatred grows like some black and twisted plant taking over the air, the water, the earth. Where is love?
Love is the background music to all life - the song of creation. Love is the sound of rivers rushing, oceans roaring, sunshine crackling, moonlight beaming. Love is the world in spite of sorrow, pain, loss. Love makes the world go round and round and round. Showing love is the bravest act of the weakest man - a reaching out in spite of differences, in spite of fear, in spite of learning. The power of love is so great because love doesn't seek power. Love gives new meaning to everything. Love forgives, forgets, sanctifies, blesses. Love is.
So, on this day of love, in the year of 2005, we are left to wonder if love will conquer all. To trust that all you need is love. To believe that in the end love is all you need. To know that love in all it's manifestations is the gift that is ours to take. All you need is love.
And if no one has said "I love you" today - I love you and Happy Valentine's Day. Sorry I can't send you chocolates by owl.
Saturday, February 12, 2005
Time III
LINES OF WINTER
Tell yourself
as it gets cold
and gray falls from the air
that you will go on
walking, hearing
the same tune no matter where
you find yourself-inside the dome of dark
or under the cracking white
of the moon's gaze in a valley of snow.Tonight as it gets cold
tell yourself
what you know which is nothing
but the tunes your bones play
as you keep going. And you will be able
for once to lie down under the small fire
of winter stars.
And if it happens that you cannot
go on or turn back
and you find yourself
where you will be at the end,
tell yourself
in the final flowing of cold through your limbs
that you love where you are.
— Mark Strand
Making time, time marches on, a time to reap, a time to sow, timeless, time waits for no man, time after time, short time, end time, time for dinner, a time to be born, a time to die, tea time, time marches on, night time, day time, anytime, sometime, time after time, time travel, time of day, time marches on.................
Can you remember the time when you ....................... or the time when......................? Is this the time of your life or endless time? Do you have enough time to do what you want, to do what you can, to do what you need to? Is time short or never ending? If you had enough time what would you do with it? Or do you have so little time you can't do enough? Was it just yesterday when your adult child was a baby? Will you put it off until tomorrow, or will tomorrow never come? Are you stuck in time or is time flying? Is your time present, past, or future? If you could travel through time where would you be? If time stood still where would you be? Tick, tick, tick - time.
"Tell yourself...........that you love where you are."
Tell yourself
as it gets cold
and gray falls from the air
that you will go on
walking, hearing
the same tune no matter where
you find yourself-inside the dome of dark
or under the cracking white
of the moon's gaze in a valley of snow.Tonight as it gets cold
tell yourself
what you know which is nothing
but the tunes your bones play
as you keep going. And you will be able
for once to lie down under the small fire
of winter stars.
And if it happens that you cannot
go on or turn back
and you find yourself
where you will be at the end,
tell yourself
in the final flowing of cold through your limbs
that you love where you are.
— Mark Strand
Making time, time marches on, a time to reap, a time to sow, timeless, time waits for no man, time after time, short time, end time, time for dinner, a time to be born, a time to die, tea time, time marches on, night time, day time, anytime, sometime, time after time, time travel, time of day, time marches on.................
Can you remember the time when you ....................... or the time when......................? Is this the time of your life or endless time? Do you have enough time to do what you want, to do what you can, to do what you need to? Is time short or never ending? If you had enough time what would you do with it? Or do you have so little time you can't do enough? Was it just yesterday when your adult child was a baby? Will you put it off until tomorrow, or will tomorrow never come? Are you stuck in time or is time flying? Is your time present, past, or future? If you could travel through time where would you be? If time stood still where would you be? Tick, tick, tick - time.
"Tell yourself...........that you love where you are."
Friends
All,
everything that I understand,
I understand only because I love. .
— Leo Tolstoy
It is impossible to know how much different my life would be if it were not for the people who love me and who I love. It would be impossible to know how much different my life would be if I were not touched every single day by gentle souls who show me the way. I am so appreciative for the love and kindness of these people. They are my friends and their love is a gift so big I wonder if I deserve it and yet it is so wonderful to have that I could never let go of it. If you are one of those people, and you are if you are reading this I want you to know you are so important to me and you make life worth living.
And for those friends I have not yet met - I look forward to the day when we will be a part of each others lives and the fun and laughter we will share. I look forward to sharing the same with all of you who I already know. Nothing in life is better than sharing life. I hope I return this love in a meaningful way - that I am worthy to be called your friend.
I cannot imagine the loneliness of life without friends, cannot comprehend the gulf of sorrow that would stretch out before a person alone in this world. We are here to share and the sharing is what makes all the difference for me.
everything that I understand,
I understand only because I love. .
— Leo Tolstoy
It is impossible to know how much different my life would be if it were not for the people who love me and who I love. It would be impossible to know how much different my life would be if I were not touched every single day by gentle souls who show me the way. I am so appreciative for the love and kindness of these people. They are my friends and their love is a gift so big I wonder if I deserve it and yet it is so wonderful to have that I could never let go of it. If you are one of those people, and you are if you are reading this I want you to know you are so important to me and you make life worth living.
And for those friends I have not yet met - I look forward to the day when we will be a part of each others lives and the fun and laughter we will share. I look forward to sharing the same with all of you who I already know. Nothing in life is better than sharing life. I hope I return this love in a meaningful way - that I am worthy to be called your friend.
I cannot imagine the loneliness of life without friends, cannot comprehend the gulf of sorrow that would stretch out before a person alone in this world. We are here to share and the sharing is what makes all the difference for me.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
Give me an A
Here's to you Mrs. Robinson, Jesus loves you more than you will know, ho ho ho,
God bless you please Mrs. Robinson, heaven holds a place for those who pray, hey hey hey, hey hey hey.
I want to win the race, get the A, outsmart the rest, be the best. Do I want this because I need to win my place in heaven, do I think that only losers go to hell. Can I accept that the pearly gates open of an accord having nothing to do with my will. Can I fall down on my knees and pray, hey, hey, hey? My pride goeth before the fall - fall down and pray, fall down and pray.
God is such a big subject in such a small mind - it is easier to focus on the little stuff, the size of my car, my house, my score, my check. Who wants to lose? Is heaven the big prize? And for all the rest - what? Can we all win? Is it possible to be loved unconditionally, even when you have a wart on the end of your nose, your breath smells, your feet stink. Is that possible? What does God see that I cannot? I scurry away from ugliness, pain, sorrow. I pretend not to see but I cannot see what God sees. No man is so blind as he who cannot see - no woman either.
So I set my sights on the little stuff, the temporary, the insignificant, the meaningless. Open your eyes and see! They say that the light of God is blinding, I cannot see, is this because God has blinded me?
My prayer is:
God give me the courage to change the things I can, the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, and the wisdom to know the difference.
Oh say can you see? God bless you please Mrs. Robinson, heaven holds a place for those who pray, hey, hey, hey.
time II
Everything must wait its turn; peach blossoms for the second month, chrysanthemums for the ninth.
Blossoms open in the spring, I wait for them, yearn for the color, the smell, the glorious riot of bloom. The whole world comes to life again. Forcing the bloom gives one the pleasure of color and beauty in winter but it does not give one the absolute abundance of dancing, waving, flourishing life, only one small flower in the midst of white.
Can I wait for spring? Will it come this year? I dance in the winter but in spring I fly, my feet lift off the ground and I can see so much that has been hidden. In spring the tennis ball bounces more crisply, silky shirts and skirts replace the bulky warm ups of winter. In spring I hear the music of laughter, calypso and cha cha replace the staid waltz of winter. The rumba replaces the hymn. It is time to dance, to twirl with joy, to
throw my arms around life.
My urgency for the passing of the quiet time, the cold, the housebound hush of winter grows stronger - time passes too slowly. I am impatient for more! I cannot abide another day of waiting and yet my urgency has no power, no magical wand waving makes the day draw nearer. I cannot force the bloom. And so I wait.
Blossoms open in the spring, I wait for them, yearn for the color, the smell, the glorious riot of bloom. The whole world comes to life again. Forcing the bloom gives one the pleasure of color and beauty in winter but it does not give one the absolute abundance of dancing, waving, flourishing life, only one small flower in the midst of white.
Can I wait for spring? Will it come this year? I dance in the winter but in spring I fly, my feet lift off the ground and I can see so much that has been hidden. In spring the tennis ball bounces more crisply, silky shirts and skirts replace the bulky warm ups of winter. In spring I hear the music of laughter, calypso and cha cha replace the staid waltz of winter. The rumba replaces the hymn. It is time to dance, to twirl with joy, to
throw my arms around life.
My urgency for the passing of the quiet time, the cold, the housebound hush of winter grows stronger - time passes too slowly. I am impatient for more! I cannot abide another day of waiting and yet my urgency has no power, no magical wand waving makes the day draw nearer. I cannot force the bloom. And so I wait.
Monday, February 07, 2005
reality
reality sucks! You can't beat it to death, mold it into another shape, slap it around but it can do all of that to you. reality is the place where fantasy ends, where dreams die. reality is your child dying in war, your mammogram not being normal, your husband leaving. reality is your lost love never found, your friends dying, your mother crying. reality sucks!
Time
"Time and patience will turn the mulberry leaf into silk."
I am blogging for the first time and thinking about time, and patience. I feel that I have little of either. I am 54, time feels like it is growing short, I have stuff left to do and am impatient with the hurdles, the process of turning into silk.
I am passionate about love and peace, a recurring echo of my life, "all we are saying is give peace a chance." I am passionately female. I feel like a my cocoon is opening, my wings are spreading, I am flying towards my future. I am passionately spiritual, I believe, in love, in God, in creation.
I dream the impossible dream, tilt at windmills, search for Dulcinea-or her male counterpart. I am not patient. I want to make a difference in this world for someone.
On a more mundane note, I love tennis, and dancing. I am physical, like to feel the endorphin rush-am passionate for it. I like to yell out when I make a particularly good tennis shot, when the music carries me off my feet, when I feel JOY.
So much to do, so little time.
I am blogging for the first time and thinking about time, and patience. I feel that I have little of either. I am 54, time feels like it is growing short, I have stuff left to do and am impatient with the hurdles, the process of turning into silk.
I am passionate about love and peace, a recurring echo of my life, "all we are saying is give peace a chance." I am passionately female. I feel like a my cocoon is opening, my wings are spreading, I am flying towards my future. I am passionately spiritual, I believe, in love, in God, in creation.
I dream the impossible dream, tilt at windmills, search for Dulcinea-or her male counterpart. I am not patient. I want to make a difference in this world for someone.
On a more mundane note, I love tennis, and dancing. I am physical, like to feel the endorphin rush-am passionate for it. I like to yell out when I make a particularly good tennis shot, when the music carries me off my feet, when I feel JOY.
So much to do, so little time.
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