Thankful

I was talking to a friend tonight and commented on how this year is one I can't wait to end.  Why the hell would I seek to eradicate even one moment of life?  How incredibly stupid, right?  Perhaps I'll return and share some of the past year.  But, just in case tomorrow doesn't come and Karma hangs on my last real conversation ever spoken into the world, I shall attempt to balance the bad with some good.

In spite of the year behind me, I really do have so very much to be thankful for.  I have people who love me and whom I love in return.  I wake each morning which is something that could have already stopped happening, right?  I breathe in and I breathe out.  I see what I'm typing.  My brain can still put together the letters to form thought into word.  My fingers are still agile enough to follow my brain's instructions.  My bladder still  holds its own against the coffee, soda, and occasional glass of wine I force its way.  The leg cramps go away...eventually.  The sun shines and the rain pours and God's green earth is a beautiful place on which to pass the days.  There are lovely people in the world in spite of the ugly ones who seem to want to overpopulate.  Criminal Minds re-runs can fill a Sunday when NOTHING else worth watching comes on...even if I have seen the same ones a million times. I caught most of Big Bang Theory tonight for the first time in FOREVER.  I hear I can access Orphan Black on Netflix and Amazon Prime. For every frown I allow on my face there's a smile waiting in the form of grandchildren.  My children thrive even though it would seem my son would test the limits.  My siblings and mother live still and all within driving distance of me....yes, that's a good thing.  My brother-in-law survived a fall and brain injury.  My friends still love me although I haven't been a very good friend in return for a while.  I sit here now surrounded by shelves of books and cd's of music that I can enjoy over and over again.  NPR still keeps me company while driving.  I didn't kill the rose bushes at the office.  I have enough money in my wallet to classify me as "not broke"...I could use a million or two, Karma.

Sometimes, it's so easy to focus on what isn't working right, what wishes aren't fulfilled, what is missing from the perfect equation rather than appreciating what is right, what is filling the otherwise empty spaces, and what is more important than all that's missing...life, love, and the people you share it all with.

Perspective and attitude....thanks for the past year, its lessons, its honing of my numerous facets, and the million moments that made it survivable and worth living into the next one.  Sleep now.  Wake me in the morning, I pray.

Time Wasted and Not

I should be sleeping; preparing myself for another day of work.  My thoughts are all over the place, however.  I decided to renew passwords to sites which have gone without attention for a very long time.  As is usual, I've become distracted along the way.  My organized lists of things to be done is basically a game plan for a game which never quite makes it to the field.  I've good intentions but too many things to be done which are all time-consuming.  It's so very easy to be distracted by what I'd rather be doing than what I should be doing, especially when most of my existence is built around those must-do items.  I must get out of bed in the morning at a time which goes against my nature.  I must spend at least eight hours at a job which, thankfully, allows me to survive.  I must spend that drive time and gas money; it's a means to an end. I must fill the evening with mundane chores to prepare for another day.  I must repeat this process for most of my existence and then cram into the weekends all those things I couldn't get done during the week.  I must ignore those desires that still exist from childhood which say, "Rise and shine!  There's fun to be had!"  Was life intended to be this structured, do you think?  One thing I've realized with this life that I lead is that the starving artist was born from necessity, not desire.  I have a million thoughts and ideas which never get further than my brain matter for absence of time, solitude, and the absence of the myriad of human and electronic distractions.  I used to play a game online until I got really pissed off that I was wasting all of my free time on someone else's creativity preventing the expression of my own.  Don't get me wrong.  I enjoyed it just as I would a good movie or book.  Well, maybe not a good book.  But anyway, I stopped playing.  I didn't delete the game.  I kept it for a time when I want to be distracted by that person's creativity.  That time hasn't come...yet.

Prior to the password update attempt, I was culling through photos saved on my computer...another of those items on my list.  These photos were of time spent in New York and suddenly my mind was filled with memories of an earlier time; actually, my first trip to the great city.  I spent many nights as a teenager watching old black and white movies.  Have you ever really noticed just how many movies and television shows have been centered around NYC?  So much of the image in my head of NYC was created by these movies.  Before actually visiting the city, I read a book written by the friend I was going to meet.  He loved New York and his characters brought it to life for me in a different way.  Perhaps, because of his book, the street performers remain one of my favorite parts of city life.  Of course, it could also be that I come from a world where the only street performers are the school bands in the yearly Christmas parade. Coming from this world, you either embrace the city or you shy away from it.  I became immediately immersed, minuscule, anonymous, invigorated and strangely, vibrantly alive.  Every return to the city brings the return of these same feelings.  On this first visit to the city, I remember going to see a movie.  I guess my friend didn't know what to do with his visitor and, well, who doesn't like movies?  I watched it and he slept through most of it. :)  He introduced me to an underground Jazz club which didn't surprise me since Jazz is one of his loves.  I enjoyed while he again dozed. :)  This is a person who'd probably spend a marathon of sleepless days embroiled with the characters in his head as he determined where to lead them and time with a live human required more effort.  I still find this funny.  He had time.  He'd taken time from his life and his family.  He'd done things his own obstinate way and had regrets over time lost and misunderstandings that created rifts.  I'm thinking of this because of my "starving artist" comment above.  I have found that some people are driven by what lies within but not all people with talent are so driven.  There is a lady I work with who creates the most beautiful watercolors.  She has a desire to paint more often but easily puts it aside for her husband's demands on her time, work, and the usual day-to-day demands. I'd kill to have been given her talent and method of expression. There are times I'm driven to write and I find any interruption cause for angst or resentment.  I recognize this aspect and let the writing go in deference to the human need before me.  For him, and others like him, the desire burns through the mediocrity of everyday existence and the matters of other mortals who become abstract and peripheral.  The characters he lived with each day were as real to him as I or any other live being and he gave as much as he could to each of us.  He stepped outside of himself to welcome me into his world and to entertain me for a short while; our discussions reshaping my thoughts on many things.  A New York author and the city he loved.  I shall always remain appreciative for the introduction and our time together.

Too many thoughts run through my mind now and it's late.  I realize I've interchanged tenses within the paragraph above.  I find I think of him in both tenses...past and present.  Good night, world.

It is so very good to be alive.  Thanks for ALL that includes.

Day one

To think that only yesterday
I was cheerful, bright and gay
Looking forward to who wouldn't do
The role I was about to play?
But as if to knock me down
Reality came around
And without so much as a mere touch
Cut me into little pieces
Leaving me to doubt
Talk about God in His mercy
Who if He really does exist
Why did He desert me?
In my hour of need
I truly am indeed
Alone again, naturally

It seems to me that there are more hearts
Broken in the world that can't be mended
Left unattended
What do we do? What do we do?


(Alone Again, Naturally - Gilbert O'Sullivan)

Aren't Splinters Supposed to Hurt?

While showering and washing my hair, my mind runs rampant.  I saw an author on television the other day who says he showers five or more times a day during the writing process.  I could totally relate.  Doing mundane, habitual tasks require no thought (like vacuuming and ironing) and your mind is free to take off in any direction, sometimes several.  He also stated that the cleansing process also cleansed his mind, cleared it for a different approach when he returned to his writing.  Makes sense, no?

Anyway, my thought this time...for whatever reason...is about splinters.  Not wood splinters, however, but those splinters we create online.  Prior to approaching the online experience, we're whole.  Certainly parts of ourselves are given out to others in our lives and to the tasks that create our daily routines but these I wouldn't consider splinters; they are larger and exposed.  Our splinters are parts of ourselves we've given over to the virtual world; parts we've doled out and forgotten about unless something causes us to recall them.  So, I will be going in search of my splinters and removing them if I find them.  Why bother?  I really don't know other than it's my attempt in may ways, not just this one, to make myself whole again.  I've a lot of work to do.  Many I will keep once they're exposed.  Otherwise the splinters will be removed.

So, as friends have sent you requests to join them here and there, as you've had temporary interest in expressing yourself on various sites, as you've joined this account and that account in search of items to purchase or to gain knowlege, etc., how much of yourself have you given away and forgotten?

I am so very tired of things not being what they seem.  Perhaps I make assumptions about situations, about people, about truth, about everything.  It is my own fault for my disappointments.  I should expect less.  I should not care.  I should roll with the punches.  I should, but I don't.