Morning Trip (248)

“November – with uncanny witchery in its changed trees. With murky red sunsets flaming in smoky crimson behind the westering hills. With dear days when the austere woods were beautiful and gracious in a dignified serenity of folded hands and closed eyes – days full of a fine, pale sunshine that sifted through the late, leafless gold of the juniper-trees and glimmered among the grey beeches, lighting up evergreen banks of moss and washing the colonnades of the pines. Days with a high-sprung sky of flawless turquoise. Days when an exquisite melancholy seemed to hang over the landscape and dream about the lake. But days, too, of the wild blackness of great autumn storms, followed by dank, wet, streaming nights when there was witch-laughter in the pines and fitful moans among the mainland trees.”
–Lucy Maud Montgomery

Computer Finally Died

I really cherish the multitude of exposure to new perceptions in the literary and visual loot that I stumble upon during my trek at WordPress. But, for now, my computer has died and I will not be able to post and to visit, in the way that I have done for quite a while. When the computer is broken, I typically feel angst, as it is my social connection with other people AND stimulation and organization for a mind that, to be well organized, requires vast amounts of input.

I have tried to get myself to a computer at other times when it has been simply ill, and I tend to get upset and have a resentment over the process. My photographs and writing are all, often stored on my hard-drive. If I have a creative spurt while on a gratefully computer, I have no place to place it. This is viewed and felt as restrictive to me and can change my entire outlook.

Of late, real life here, around the creative has feel stifled and awful. Some days the physical body agrees with that assessment, which was even more ew. I am glad to be released from a hovering maybe about the when the computer would die, something on the motherboard was leaking and fans were broken and even the switch wished to rest.

Instead of focusing upon sorrow or stifle, I’d rather continue to work on clearing out my own person clutter, material, metaphysical, and otherwise. The lose of the computer has somehow aided this. I have no excuse that I MUST simply sit down and check or engage or create. Parts of me cannot use this positive conversion of what might not be going well in life in order to get rid of nor to hide bad feelings. To hide that I have a life on life’s terms, no matter how far I’ve come in my thinking, and how far I have yet to go. What happens when being spiritual means a self imposed ideal that involves perfection? What happens when a bad thing occurs and I want to cry or to rage, to act out on a defect of my character, instead of working out the next right thing to do when all around seem not to notice nor to care for their own side of the street? I feel like I’m rationalizing being abused. I KNOW, that I’m only cleaning and changing what I can, but the result can be that I appear like a doormat. When I expand to allow and to encompass other’s being just where they are…well that can just become clutter and be bad for me. So, I’ll be working on that. Again! 😀

This starting point, ending point sort of thinking does help one to amass what is required to get to a destination, but more always comes after. Perhaps the job is done when we die…and even more fun, I think it continues after we die!

So, happy travels, I haven’t forgotten any of you, that I know of, and if I do, I do my best to make up for it, even if I do not tell you so. I’ll be back if God sees fit to decide to provide me another computer, when He is finished with the current items He’s offered to me.

Stopping for a Red Flag Waving

Some would wish to call the events of my week, the week from Hell. At some parts of it, those were the shortest easiest words to allow to spring forth from my lips to explain what others must have seen on my physical body expression without me complaining nor saying a word to them. Sometimes I like to allow one person that I allow close to me to share what I perceive in a moment to be a burden that seems sooooo vast to me that I begin to laugh at it–which to outsiders appears hysterical or unbalanced. It’s a nice relief seeing that response from others, and provides additional fodder to feed the laughing humor bits of me, and to allow a moment of down time for the rest to gain better perspective and a restart.

This week, two daughters back to college at separate colleges, mold and fire hazard issues in(of course) the dorm that is 4.5 hours away. Then she messaged me yesterday to say, “MY ROOMMATE HAS LIIIIIIIIIIIIICE!!!”

Daughter two, her experience so far was excellent–until…..
(wait for it, wait fooooooooor it)
she walked into her room and roommate went against contract and sprayed room full of febreeze setting off instant bad asthma attack and daughter had only two puffs of her inhaler. She rarely needs it so….

Accommodations meetings with son’s school, enrolled him into online public school, tried to withdraw him from original school and THEN after three years of this…offered excellent stress free accommodations. Dilemma he seems MUCH more engaged and happy doing the lessons online, in fact ‘ending’ learning time, to get quiet for me is an issue. But!! He wants to be able to have this at the old school–the one with the ‘fixed’ accommodations plan.

The body is fed up and has sore throat, the I’ve been beaten by a stick all over, and wheezy thing going on. I’m eating properly, adjusting breathing and health maintenance meds, and going to attempt to lie down and to rest. In order to do so, I’m calling it luxuriating. It may involve a small magazine splurge, including a trash one with surveys!!

I’m laughing now, as I assume that if any of you came to read, you might wish you had not, or you stopped long ago. However for me, this is/was life on life’s terms, I am calling a Stopping for a Red Flag Waving, so that I can keep doing the next right thing. 🙂

I found this neato slide thing on a slow down quotes search. It validates and justifies my luxuriation plot of the day.

Morning Trip(49)–Thinking of Nesting and 59.

59.
Like a cloud on the brow of a mountain
When the sun in his glory doth rise;
Like the spray of the far-falling fountain
That ascendeth so swift toward the skies
Like the infant’s gay laugh–like the blush
On the virgin’s soft cheek–like the flush
Of the floweret that withers anon
Is the year; Yea! the year that is gone

For the cloud it hath vanished away
Dispersed by the power of the sun
And dissolved in the air is the spray
E’re the blue heights of heaven it had won;
And now transient the laugh of the child
And the blush on the virgin’s soft cheek
And the flower is the beauty despoiled
E’re another bright morning can break.

Like such is the year; it has wings
That bore it with swiftness away
And though round it our memory clings
Ah! we cannot ritard it one day!
It is gone O my soul! It is gone
Its months, weeks and days every one.

Now I turn to the fresh coming year.
Shall wild Hope mount her chariot again?
And rush onward with reckless career?
And shall Fancy’s bright pictures so vain
Me deceive as may have done before?
Strange delusions! I fear ye and strive
You to cast from my soul evermore;
To escape earth’s enchantments and live
In the bondage of truth; for the true

Is the pathway, though weary and sad
And so darksome and dreary to view
That leads up to the world of the glad.

O loved Hope that hath recreant been.
Through the year and the years that are past
Let my chariot wheels turn where is seen
The bright gate of glory at last.

January 1, 1841
Thomas Cole’s Poetry

Morning Trip (32)

“Stress is basically a disconnection from the earth, a forgetting of the breath. Stress is an ignorant state. It believes that everything is an emergency. Nothing is that important. Just lie down.”
– Natalie Goldberg

Grins and giggles!!! Too true, too true…God has a wonderful sense of humor this morning! Wow! There were sooooo many videos this morning that expressed different facets of this morning’s topic. I’m laughing from having to choose just one–that is what the Morning Trip does after all.

The giggling parts want me to post the other two as comments!!! Have a wonderful day, and treat yourself well!

Morning Trip (8)

“I want to lie down in dappled leaf-shade,
In quivering shadows of quivering leaves —

be they oak, be they maple,
be they elm or birch,
I want to rest in the play of shadows
over my reclining form,
The massage of shadows
which consoles me in its way,
Restores for me
with whatever restoration
Flickering shadows of leaves afford–
be they willow or aspen,
be they poplar or beech,
I want to be caressed by shadows
of wavering leaves,
Soothed off to sleep
feeling the gentle breeze,
Looking up at the rustling
sun-drenched crown–
Be it basswood, be it chestnut,
Be it walnut or hickory,
after all is said,
after all is done,
This is the way
I would die.”

–ANTLER