thinking too much

thinking...I can drive right into a stall in my local lube shop and have my oil changed in 10 minutes...the last time I stopped at the clinic for a physician to examine my throat and say "uh huh", I waited two hours in the waiting room and another 20 minutes once inside the surgery.
From these two experiences, I deduced that cars are more important than human beings in our society.
Recently, my town decided to put a road through a local park, to make it easier for people to get from A to B...without having to go around that pesky park. Too bad for me, I bought my house at the outskirts of the park, on the road they intend to make into a thoroughfare...oh dear, there goes the neighbourhood...oh well...and this in spite of the letters to mayor and council, mla, petition signed etc. Maybe there is gold or oil to be had in the park...? So, from this I deduced it is more important to get places fast than to save our global air filtration system. These are just a couple of things that I find strangly disconcerting...I find my head shaking from side to side.
This time we are in reminds me of a time I read about long ago, where things were not as the people felt they should be and they did something called at that time...protest... another time it was called a revolution...I wonder if people do this any more...or if they just sit and twitter?

Fern Fronds and Empty Ponds

On feeling empty.

That day, late spring, this feeling of foreboding of nothingness had crept in and made it's nest in the pit of my stomach. There was nothing for it, I'm afraid, I picked up my usual restore, a book of sumi poetry...nothing and nothing more.

Couldn't shake it, my heart was squeezed by the hollowness just below and the sharp pain of it breaking jabbed and stabbed, needling away.

I turned from the book, opened the door and walked through, on to the little patio I loved so much. I remember the smell of the earth after a long hard rain...all ozoney and fresh and new. That fragrance of composting deposits of leaves and needles from the fall before. This began to fill me. Then, over to the right, beneath the

Akrasia - in a nut shell

I won't bore you with the definition. If you are reading this blog...well, I guess you know full well the meaning...don't you?

Don't fear however, seems that the entire world is afflicted with Akrasia and there is little or nothing that anyone, in this day, can do to reverse it!

Once one realizes the nature of Akrasia the only solution is to "unlearn" the patterned behaviour before it ends us in a lamentable state of perpetual anguish.

Well, this nut, for one, thinks it's all about control...losing it when we are young...becoming the controlled. Rebelling against the control freaks when we are adolescents and liking the power it made us feel we had. Becoming addicted to that power, if only over our own decisions and in turn, becoming the control freak. The circle of life or just the circle of sadness.

Knowing of course that many things we were told were bad, are absolutely good for us and those things we were given as rewards, were ultimately bad for us...celebrate with cake...hmmm.

o.k. let's look at that one:

- you are happy, you celebrate with something that is ultimately bad for you...simple cake...tastes so good, makes you happy for a few minutes, but if you have two or more pieces, you start to feel really bad...then you are told that it is bad for you to eat to much cake, that you only get when you are celebrating...happy, don't ... happy and celebrating are bad then...because our little brains don't distinguish between some and too much...there is no switch that is pulled when you've gone too far! The term "everything in moderation" doesn't fly anymore as once you are "in it" (the indulgent state) it is near impossible to pull out!

Ahhh to be a saint...

THE WATCHTOWER

...then, when I looked back, I saw an eerie glint in the window, only the sun but it gave me chills. The whole town was less than snug...more like shabby, a forgotten wayside, bespoke of small town irrelevance.
To me, it felt as though the life of the town had drifted out to sea, perhaps after a storm. The wood was weathered and lichen had begun to build up along the rails of the dock. Patches had been fashioned of plate metal to cover the spots where the wood had rotted through along the planking surface. Where once beautiful planters had splashed swatches of welcoming colour, now only split cedar boxes remained, mossy and desolate. All that and still, the little town retained a sad beauty. A faded rose. It came to me as I walked toward the dock for the return trip to the mainland, that this place was waiting for a whole new generation, that it was locked in between, the creative genius and her children...it will take her children's children to resurrect this relic and make it bloom and sway again.

When?

Now?

Is now the right time to love myself?

Or....should I wait for someone else to validate my existance?

Do I need a witness to my life?

Can I simply live and enjoy each moment as it happens?

Am I able to squeeze the moments for all they have? Have I been aware of the goodness?, the beauty?, the flow?

That's it, in black and white and greytones...I get it...I finally get it!

I think I like it here.

Have a great day y'all.

Out of the Darkness

It was simply the hint of spring I was yearning for, and there it was, out from the darkness of winter.
When I saw them, so full of hope and freshness and purity, it filled me with a relief that is hard to describe.
I will watch them and learn from them as they unfold gracefully.
The very breath of life...the essence of revolution.
That is correct...the essence of revolution...it is harmony not war...learn it descipulus.

Where is spring?

This is what I am yearning for...colour and texture and life. Supreme joy. From the soft moist green to the little purple bubbles of heather bursting forward like there is no tomorrow. Spring is the time of birth and renewal and it's my favourite time of the year, along with Summer, Fall and Winter....of course...(Never insult the Season's...ever)

Fog n' Drizzle

I know. You probably think that I'm "up" every moment of every day from the time I get up to the time my head hits the pillow at night.

Well, truthfully? This is not the case. I have moments where grief, creeps into my core being, and I can't shake it. Like the mist in the picture...bleak and dreary.

These are times when I hunker down...I don't want to lay this "mood" on others as it is my own to deal with and "it too shall pass" and the sun will burn through the morning mist, and I shall have coffee.

Then, the only mist will be the steam from the coffee and from my hot breath, hitting the chill air. You might see me then, as the smile will be pasted back in place for another day.