Constipated Zen

It is true that it is has been a longer gap than usual for posting.  I  have been waiting for some profound thought to give me stimulus for a wise, intelligent or even humorous post...an exception to the rule.  I have been waiting for something to write that elaborates, enumerates, or illuminates.  I noticed the other day that this blog has shrunk in followers which is a nice bit of evidence on how boring I have become.  Of course, I would continue to write even if no one read this, because I do still write for my own creative outlet.  It is like eating and pooping...I just have to do it.

Alas, my dear brain has entered a far dimension these days...maybe I left it in Aruba with that curious blue lizard?

Maybe  I gave it too long a rest after finding my future daughter-in-law and I are in such a magical and wonderful space together and I do not want to tamper with that by thinking too much.

Maybe I have absolutely emptied it - my mind?  That is a scary thought.

Wait!  I am trying to find a focus here!  It is like knocking on the door of an empty room for conversation.  No one answers because no one is in there.  I open the door and there are just dust bunnies and faint shadows and the hollow sounds of my footsteps.

Death and politics.  This is all that seems to sneak into my thoughts when I let it..  And certainly both of those subjects are not small enough to write about nor safe enough to even consider these days.   Beauty and peace find their way to my other blog, so that outlet is well satisfied, and not surprisingly, that blog has grown in number of readers. 

You know that I am going to die, if not imminently, and I know the same about you.  I cannot change that by writing about it.  ("if you mean 'famous' or 'superior' you want eminent; if you mean 'impending, about to happen' that is imminent; and if you mean 'present, inherent,' your word is immanent.")  That was tricky.

You know who I am going to vote for and I might know the same about you, but since we are adults it is unlikely we will change each others minds if we are not in agreement.  The world, especially Europe and the Middle East, seems to be collapsing.  The poor are getting very poor which means dark days ahead globally.  So, should I write about that?

That leaves puppies and babies and what I ate for breakfast..since I am on my own this weekend it was a biscotti with coffee..  Maybe I should post a photo?  Nope, this is not Facebook...........Guess I will go see what is happening there.

The Power of Rhetoric

I wrote a long and complaining post a few weeks ago.  I was smart to sit on it.  I had scheduled it for posting on the 20th of this month and just now I marked it as a draft and will probably not post it, and once I get over myself, will actually delete it.  It was one of those "the world is going to hell in a hand basket" posts.  Since we all know that is true...why belabor the point?  People have enough crud in their minds and probably read blogs for enlightenment or humor...although both of these are in limited amounts on my blog.  The recent Arizona shooting of a large number of people including a Congressman(woman) and a Federal judge brought me to my knees...and most of you know by now that I am not a religious person but certainly spiritual and willing to call on any good powers that be.  But the tragedy also caused me to remove that scheduled post.

This shooting while involving public servants had very little to do with politics, and I think most of the media are missing that point, although by the time I write this, they may be getting more accurate in their questions.  This shooting was no more Republican than President Ronald Reagan's shooting was Democratic.  Drawing a line from this incident to violent rhetoric is also fuzzy and difficult.

The most frightening aspect, to me, was Secretary Gates recent announcement of plans to cut military health care at the same time the talking news heads were discussing the lack of aggressive mental health support for this shooter.  Gates is probably just shaking the bushes as no one will allow this.  He knows that.  He doesn't talk about tighter controls over contracts and lost money in Iraq, unfortunately!  But if anyone needs easy mental health support, it will be our returning troops.

Well enough.  I need to find something more inspiring to post.

Dancing with Moonbeams

Most houses have ghosts. I am sure that one has heard those whispered conversations heard in the late evening when you are sitting by the fire or curled up in your favorite chair with a good book and sitting all alone. You look up and wonder if that was a laugh you just heard or was it just the blinds moving in the breeze. You hear a footfall in the empty hallway and you freeze with the bookmark in hand and turn your head ever so slightly to the left. It is just the bones of this old house creaking, you tell yourself and return to the poem. Someones' laughter and someones' tears are hidden deep within the shadows of the corners of those rooms. Important lives passed this way. Sometimes they feel safe and come forward, but you don't know this, or you deny it. On a lazy sunny afternoon as your eyes close and you begin to drift off to sleep, they gather together and dance around the floor with the moving sunbeams that drift across your favorite carpet.

My house is new. No ghosts have set up residence just yet. Thus when I hear creaking and groaning, I know that it is the spirit of the house settling into these woods planning for the many years to come and making room for the ghosts. My hubby and I will be the first spirits to linger in the shadows some winter evening. Will we be too shy to laugh and will we still have the same arguments? Will the click of my camera shutter startle some late night reader? Will we be willing to make room for other spirits? Will the sound of my grandchildren's footfalls skip down the hallway and interrupted by the sound of their giggle before they hide? Will we dance with the moonbeams in the late evening as the new owner falls asleep before the fireplace? I hope so.

Just Passing Through

I hate the fact that I am entering that time in life where the goodbyes are more often of a permanent nature. Everyone has had to bravely pass through this season in their life. I just hate that it is now my turn.

I sit quietly here blogging early in the morning. We stole my 2-year-old granddaughter for a visit on Sunday and she is now sleeping blissfully in the Pac-N-Play in our big closet...it is the quietest and darkest place on the main floor of this house. Thinking of her gentle breathing, I see life as a broad spectrum this morning. She has so much adventure ahead of her while others are moving on leaving her room.

My husband lost his sister-in-law last week. We were not close, but she had just visited our new home last year and I was so happy to see her in even better health and sharper spirits than she had been a few years before. Two of her five children had brought her on this trip. They had made careful plans renting an RV and planning for the needed oxygen tanks and other necessary baggage. She felt energized by this chance to get out on a travel adventure, we could tell.

We leave Wednesday for the memorial service in Florida, so blogging will be in stasis for a while, except for the pre-scheduled entries on 'my other blog'.