They have fireflies here in TX.
They have fireflies here in TX.
How much self-reflection is enough and how is too much? Could it be yet another tool we overuse from the procrastination toolbox….?
…genuine, real, bona fide, not fake or counterfeit, reliable, trustworthy, credible…
… being true to one’s own personality, spirit, or character, despite external pressures…
Authentic is Real. Real is, at the end of the day, when you are lying in the dark shadows of your world, being able to sleep with yourself.
Sooooo…..aren’t we “real” and “authentic” all the time?
Are we “unreal”, “fake”, and “inauthentic” when we are being a shit, as opposed to being nice?
When did being authentic mean only what we believe to be most desirable.
For me, I feel like I am being 100% authentic no matter my mood or my actions…no matter how they are perceived by myself or others….
with your aging parents.
My Dad had a minor accident this morning in the car. *sighs*
Not sure what happened because the story varied from what he told me and what he told my Mom.
All I know is that it was him, the Subie, a motorcycle and the man who was sitting on his bike. The Subie has a scratch, the bike has a scratch and the man landed away from the bike. I think. Maybe.
Since they both drove to another location before they called the police….I will presume this isn’t a big deal. Unless you are 83 and probably shouldn’t be driving with two pairs of reading glasses to see because he doesn’t want to be bothered to go to the eye doc for a regular Rx.
I just hope this talk isn’t mine to voice……because I think he would drive anyway….
Uneventful flight, thank goodness. I’m ok with flying, airport navigation and the never ending security hassles from wearing a push-up underwire bra and having piercings. Body scanners are really a PITA. Not my favorite way to spend the day, but it doesn’t cause any major anxiety or anything either.
Visiting my folks again this year. At least there will be a bit of time to relax and just sit on the back porch without dogs, cats, parties, incessant chatter and a feeling like I need to hide myself away in my room for some peace and quiet.
No one here does their laundry at 3am or takes a shower in the adjoining bath at 2am.
My favorite Great Aunt and my Favoritest Cousin in the entire world will be here next week, for a week *doing the happy dance*
My brother and nephew are scheduled to drop in, too.
Glad we both made it unscathed-relatively speaking.
Tomorrow is my oldest sons 35th birthday so I went to Denver today to spend some time with him, my Darling DIL and the Grandbabies. Good day. Lots of Grandma’s treat Ice Cream. Well in this case it was frozen yogurt.
Pictures in the park since both babies have a birthday within days of each other at the end of the month, and Grandma made lasagna for supper.
If you’ve been here any length of time, you know I rarely (if ever) post pictures of myself or of my family.
Gran’ma and the Babies. Makes me giggle, because they are both blue-eyed, redheads.
Nolan (3) on the left with Gran’ma holding Haley (1) who has had just about enough for the day.
Fortunate to have seen such a gifted guitar master and poet so many times. Solo, or with other bands, large or more intimate venues really didn’t matter because he had a way of speaking to the audience as if each one of us was in a room with him and only him…
Two of my favorites….
The past few years here has taken a turn I feel is less than…changed in a way I don’t like or can’t appreciate, and don’t exactly know what to do with it because it’s different now…and I’m not at all sure how to fill the bucket or make the wind blow…
There is a Ted talk with Elizabeth Gilbert where she speaks about the creative process and an interview with poet Ruth Stone:
And she said it was like a thunderous train of air. And it would come barreling down at her over the landscape. And she felt it coming, because it would shake the earth under her feet. She knew that she had only one thing to do at that point, and that was to, in her words, “run like hell.” And she would run like hell to the house and she would be getting chased by this poem, and the whole deal was that she had to get to a piece of paper and a pencil fast enough so that when it thundered through her, she could collect it and grab it on the page. So, she’s running to the house and she’s looking for the paper and the poem passes through her, and she grabs a pencil just as it’s going through her, and then she said, it was like she would reach out with her other hand and she would catch it.
So when I heard that I was like — that’s uncanny, that’s exactly what my creative process is like.
It’s like the wind stopped flowing across the prairie and there is nothing to grab on to…
Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio,
Our nation turns its lonely eyes to you.
Pondering heroes of today with a national and global viewpoint.
Do we even have them? Do we need them?
Not that I think there aren’t heroes….firefighters, police, 1st responders, nurses and doctors and the like…..or those who, under some circumstance, act with bravery and perform heroic acts. It happens every hour, every day, across the globe. Even our parents/siblings/relatives/friends can fit this role on a more personal level.
There are certainly many I admire for their vision, changes which better society as a whole, spiritual guidance, or those fighting wrongs in the world.
Have our biggest heroes been a product of (past) nationalism at a time where we all needed a boost, something to look to, some hope?
Were Newton, Einstein, and Tesla ever heroes?
What about Churchill, Ford, or Earhart? Lennon, Barry Bonds, or King, Jr?
Are Malala or Pope Francis modern day heroes?
Is there some criteria we use to define a Hero on a national or global scale?
Are the heroes of today it nothing but heroic illusions and adornment of the rich and famous?
What’s that you say, Mrs. Robinson.
Jolting Joe has left and gone away,
Not where I want to be but getting better….
Finding the world in the smallness of a grain of sand
And holding infinities in the palm of your hand
And Heaven’s realms in the seedlings of this tiny flower
And eternities in the space of a single hour
to engage in body shaming.
I don’t care who you are or who you are pointing at.
You simply cannot take others down in some misguided effort to cover your perceived imperfections. Sad that we even have those perceptions at all…
The problem with communication is that we are more often taught how to speak, but not taught how to really listen.
We make it all about us when it really isn’t…
Thank you for the healing, my beloved Anam Cara.
Not that I’m surprised. Your visits have been too many in too short a time.
I needed to hear from you today. Needed you to open the door and allow me to speak
of what was, what is now and what will always be.
Nice to know you feel the same….
A small promotion with a small raise.
It makes life a little bit more doable.
Still out there searching tho.