Intriguing. Just posted under the Musings tab is a new entry. It can be found at the top of the heap.
I find the more tea I drink in the morning, the hungrier I become. Not good, especially since I already had yogurt mixed with oatmeal and dried cranberries for breakfast. Wait a minute… I just noticed the time and it’s been 5 hours since I ate my breakfast. So essentially it’s my lunch time. Essentially.
It is still morning by the way, it’s only 9:27am. Maybe my body clock is telling me it’s almost time for recess. That’s alright then, because that just means I can have a snack. Yay! As one who doesn’t like to eat at ‘off-hours’, and therefore I won’t, I can at least rest easy in knowing that a snack is waiting for me as soon as I finish this post. Did I mention I was hungry?
Just posted under the Art Center tab is a piece titled Who Wants an Oreo Cookie? Yet another wonderful memory of our days and nights while in voluntary educational hell.
What must it be like to not see or feel daylight for an extended period of time. Deprived of the warmth and views of all that is awesome. I cannot imagine and don’t ever want to experience not having this gift. A gift it is. We see it most every day, we feel it most everyday. And even on the days we do not directly see or feel it, we are still illuminated by its ambience every single day.
There is no beginning and there is no end.
Conversations are paused, they are not ended. They resume at one point or another, eventually. Whether in person, in thought, or in memory, they resume.
The mind is incredible. Incredible at what what it does for our body, and for our perception of everything that is. We never see our faces in the mirror as others see us, it’s not possible. Our reflections are just that – reflections. The opposite of how others see our faces, how they see us.
The same is true for our perceptive reality. How we perceive things to be is different than another persons interpretation of objects, people, and places. Consensus between two people therefore is quite incredible for all of the above. Exponentially multiply the variables of consensus amongst a group of people. Extraordinary really.
The question then is, ‘who’s perception of reality and everything that is‘, is correct? That is a tough call, especially when there is a general agreement amongst most everyone, yet there are some outliers to the perceived truth. Does the general public work to ‘reprogram’ outlying individuals?
I shall end this post now. Or perhaps I write it is simply paused, since time and space are relative and fall within the realm of individual perception dictated by laws of general physics.
I hope to unpause the conversation sooner than later, or at least some day down the road, preferably in person. Free of emotional turmoil, and both in accord with what is real.
While listening to a podcast the other day I heard that word, marginalized. The word’s meaning has significant value in how it was contextually used relative to the rest of the podcast conversation.
The word really got me thinking. There is quite a bit of marginalization that occurs in every aspect of our lives, whether it be intentional or not. Think about it…when we marginalize we minimize the value, or importance of something or someone. It’s a ‘put-on-the-back-burner’ move. Not good.
By reprioritizing, we place order to an existing order of importance to things or people in our lives that we had previously made. That’s ok because reprioritization is an intentional effort in order to reach greater efficiency. Although the associated outcome does not always meet expectations, a third reprioritizing effort is a valid option.
Marginalization occurs when we unintentionally shift hierarchy of things or people in our lives. The result tends to be an unintended slight against someone, or neglect of something. Marginalization is painful, not for the individual but for those around us. It takes the we out of the equation and replaces it with me.
Think twice… it’s not about me.
Get rid of it.
A word I hear my trainers use most often is relax. Relax!, relax! Yelled from across the way because if it weren’t yelled, I wouldn’t hear him, or her. Depending on the day I could have one or the other yelling at me, sometimes I get a combination of both.
Sit back, put your hand forward, look where you’re going, bend your elbows, relax your shoulders, keep your legs out, sit in the middle, relax your back, look up, go on, say the word!
If all goes well and I remember to do all of that, relax all of me while giving everything of me, then I will be able to successfully complete a run with or without a cow while adrenaline is wildly pumping throughout my body.
The parallels of personal life experiences and life itself is real. I am reminded of the Robert Pirsig book, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. I have read this book numerous times. Its metaphorical connections to the main character’s roadtrip journey with his son, working on and maintaining his motorcycle in good working order, and life, are poetic.
Riding a horse in competition has many similarities. It’s all about what you put into it, and how you treat and handle your craft. There are few things one can truly manage on any given day. Remind myself to give it up, control that is. Things go so much smoother, for everyone.
I hope that wasn’t my last meal.
Irene and I toured many parts of Italy a number of years ago. We were with a touring group and it was fantastic. Everything was ‘included’ in the trip. Flight, accommodations, all meals, touring bus, and our very own tour guide, Dánte. We even had the same bus driver, Marco. The whole shebang, everything. We were showered in luxury, albeit we did pay k$’s for the entire trip. It was all worth every spent penny.
After eating her dinner one night one of our group’s tour guests said “I hope that wasn’t my last meal.” This meal was, as I recall, the only meal that someone did not enjoy. Understanding the statement in literal terms but in a different context than intended, I didn’t get the gist of what she had said until Irene interpreted it for me.
This woman’s statement was a declaration of dissatisfaction for what she had just eaten. She was thinking that if she were to die before her next meal, breakfast the following day, she hoped this meal experience was not her last. She did not want the meal’s unsatisfactory memory that she had just eaten to be on her mind. Morbidly humorous, who can blame her?
There is always a ‘last’ time for something we do, something we say, somewhere we go, someone we see. In retrospect, we should hold onto everything for its memory. There are sometimes moments in day and certainly in our life when we don’t have ‘the camera’ or the phone to take a pic. Irene tells me that those moments are not meant to be captured by an object for viewing at a later time. Those moments are for the mind, they are engraved in our memories and make us who we are.
We never know what lies before us or what our finite future will bring. We are simply mortal beings. Before we go, we should think twice about our words and our actions. Those, after all, are far more important than any meal we have consumed.
Just posted under the Sky tab is an image captured only a couple weeks ago. I don’t intentionally look at Sky to find visual references to life, but after the image has been taken and I am admiring its beauty, I will at times see similarities to things very familiar to me. This is one image that while taking, I admired the visual contrast of light and dark accentuated against the vividly saturated hue of Sky. You’ll see.
Just posted under the Musings tab is man essay titled ‘I’m Not Famous.’ I debated whether to post it under the I Remember tab, as it does reference a memory, but I chose Musings due to it’s self-reflective manner. Fame is an interesting word in that as a noun it points to a state of being. Even that can be viewed from the first, second, or third-person perspective. It’s all relative.
Mom went to heaven today to be with dad. Gib, Kath, and I were there and although there were tears, I was smiling because I knew she was now with dad and our Heavenly Father. Mom never cried, at least in the company of others and her children were no exception. Like I told dad just five weeks ago, I told mom that I would see her later. Mom is free now, and she doesn’t have to cry.