My, Oh, My! Where Did The Time Go!

I am certain you have heard, as I did, that the older a person becomes the faster time goes by. At the age of 62 years I can and will confirm that statement for any doubters reading my post. My last post was on March 16th and here it is April 3rd. I know that to be a fact yet the amount of time that has passed between those two dates in my head is nothing akin to the amount of time the calendar reveals. For me only an hour or so has passed. The pages of the calendar have disappeared one after the other without making a sound. I can see that time is not compassionate nor is it aware of those of us impacted by that worrisome measure of eternity sliced into minute slices for our convenience. Without a measure of time I believe that I, and perhaps you, would begin to flow in a rhythm meant to pulse with the whole of creation, eternity allowing for more than I can think or imagine. As it is I am at odds with the passing of time. My relationship with this precise measurement has changed. My footing is less solid.  At one time the concept of hours, minutes, days, etc. was an immutable fact of life to me. Now I experience time wiht the exact fascination I have while watching time lapsed photography of the skies as a day passes. Clouds, the light and shadows flow over the earth. As a whimsical aside their rush across the sky reminds me of Alice chasing after the White Rabbit. I won't dwell on that as the possibility exists that I will follow suit and find myself off on a stream of consciousness trailing ripples behind me as I join the jolly chase across the skies of earth.

Spring is on the air. The birds are clustering high in the treetops singing and calling back and forth to one another as they lift in unison to fly to a nearby tree, land as a group, settle a moment and return to their merry making. I don't know that they are merry making. It is a fictious dream of mine, derived as much from older cartoon movies as from reading scientific information related to birds. They may be fighting or simply making a racket because that is what they like best. I choose to believe their incessant cawing and singing to be the merriest of merry making.

Time for bed. I am officially worn out.

It Is After Midnight

It is after midnight. It is always after midnight in this part of my day. I mean for it to be ten or even nine but it is always after midnight. This is where I find myself challenged by the openess of the late hour and the finality of the day, going to bed, sleeping more hours upon recommendation by numerous who-saids of the highest authority. Nature or nurture come face to face with each other time and again.

My mind is brimming with thoughts ranging from the scientific to the depth of sorrow to the sublime to the spiritual and back round again. I cannot, for the life  of me, understand how I manage with despair and utter joy living together side by side with boredom, fear, apathy and a fierce nature that takes me by surprise. The answer, I believe, lies in the same answer that explains our universe and our eternity. God put all of it in motion and He holds it in motion for His reasons and His purposes. He also put me in motion, breathed life into me, created my every cell and set it all spinning and cavorting around in my head according to His reasons and His purposes. I believe this is what sustains me in the face of what appears to be certain calamity and also what sends my spirit spiralling towards the heavens on the days when joy takes her seat in my heart. The mystery of mysteries is that these two attributes can exist within seconds of each other or can carry the entire day on their own. Either way it remains that I have concluded; without His design, His intervention, His great and majestic love that I should die instantly from the enormity of Him living in me. It is also my belief that I, as His child, live with one foot here and one foot in my Father's House where there are many mansions. I constantly crave to go home while living here on this earth in my home. It is not melodrama. It is love. I yearn towards His love and His presence just as the flowers reach towards the sun, just as the trees stretch out their branches seeking His glory, bathing in His love. So it is that there are days when I go about my daily life with great anticipation expecting to come round the corner, see the door to "home", open it and step through to my Father's House. In my Father's House there are many mansions that He has prepared for His children. If it were not true He would not have said it was so. On that same day I also crave the hug of a grandchild, hope to serve someone, feel the Evil One pulling at me, drawing me back from my Father's House, illiciting a horror from me as I sense the awful power of his evil vortex spiralling down, down, down into the fires of Hades. But I, I am the Child of My Father Who Is In Heaven and I cry out "FATHER! HELP ME!" The vortex closes, the stench of the evil one fades away, my panic subsides and I abide in my Father's arms knowing beyond any doubt that one day I will open the door, walk through and live for all eternity in my Father's House.

Amen! and Amen!

A Song For The Week

Don't you love jumping around in puddles? I do and this dance and song make me happy!

Just A Little Something

Writing left me without so much as a good-bye. I sat here at the keyboard concentrating. I do stream of consciousness. It is difficult to write stream of consciousness when writing leaves town for awhile. No true value in forcing myself to flow when the stream has been temporarily dried up. So I sat here, mainly out of a bizarre compulsion to write for the sake of you the reader. Yes, that is neurotic and people pleasing and hilariously funny given the HUGE number of people who hit on blog in a month. I am a people pleaser more often than not even if there is only one other person than myself in my world. Awkward admission but a true one nonetheless. As it turns out my compulsion to post on this blog just to post on this blog was not enough to bring writing back home. That is until today, at this moment, right now moment. I said quite a few posts back that I was writing for me...to develop the discipline of writing. Sh! I know. If this is my idea of developing discipline how far of course was I when I began? And you are perceptive to, just that quickly, think that thought. Either I was long, long away from discipline and what I am doing in the blog is a true accomplishment for me or I am blowing smoke up someone's skirt when I say I want to build discipline but, I swear on a stack of books on a wide range of topics (kinda stacked) around my room, that I believed I would write regularly. Daily, as a matter of fact. Am I an underachiever? Do I even have a passion for any one thing in my life? Love comes and love goes or it fails and lurks around in my psyche. Love is a four letter word. Use your imagination to choose a four letter word. "Lake"? Love is a lake. I dunno. There is a poem in that statement. Love is grim. Now there is a concept I can wrap my mind around when the darkness and isolation of "poor me" settles in my heart.

Snippets

Owl not seen lately. God bless and keep Mr. Owl, please.

Cat meows in a way that sounds just like he is saying "out-t-t-t" "yeow"

When I hear classical music I become distracted because I choreograph dances during the music. In my mind I coach and arrange the dancers, the set, all of it and at times I allow myself to join in the scene.

Darn it! I am too sleepy to make sense. I'm going to bed.


Good night!

I NEED TO RANT or MY MOTHER IS ON FACEBOOK AND HAS AN IPAD

There are many topics I could have chosen. I had a post started which was a confessional of sorts. That and anything else I may wish to post must take a backseat to my need to rant. If I don't get this off my chest I may throw my laptop out of the window, chunk my IPAD in the creek and permanently go off the grid. Honestly! I am defeated by things of a technological nature. I am of the intuitive variety. This means that anything I attempt to change, utilize correctly or conjure up on my laptop or IPAD takes time. Lots of time. Frequently I give up and take the simplest way possible. I intuitively know when to quit. The groundwork is being laid for you, the reader, to understand, while I use a computer for hours in a day on my job and while I can navigate well enough to do what I mostly want to do I am by no means a teacher of this craft. SO!! I have an 85 year old mother who has been using her computer for some years now. Mostly checking e-mails, playing some games and wondering from time to time what else she could do but never pursuing it.
I got a Kindle. Mom watched me with it and she bought a Nexus. This is where my world went to computer hell. Computer terminology is lost on an 85 year old woman. There are multiple upon multiple decision points to perform most of the tasks on a tablet or a computer. Little decision points. Try and count them as you work on your laptop or tablet. They are, for the most part, second nature to many of us. My mother, did I mention, has Obsessive Compulsive Disorder...mild...but present nonetheless. Teaching her to use her Nexus has been like teaching a fish to ride a bicycle. O.K. She has learned more than a fish will ever know about a bicycle but I believe I make my point. Every day there is something new that doesn't work, doesn't make sense or follow in logical order to my mother's way of thinking. Frequently she blames it on the never seen "they" who live in the computer and the Nexus and have now also inhabited her IPAD. Yep, that is correct. I was given an IPAD. Mom's nearly 80 year old sister has an IPAD. She sent my mother the money to get an IPAD. This is a type of diabolical plot. It is one of many that have followed me in my life. This one may send me, at long last, to the looney bin for a 28 day stay. YA WANNA KNOW WHY?? I'll tell you why!! MY MOTHER WANTS ON FACEBOOK. Her sister wants her to get on Facebook so they can talk to each other and send things to each other and I am dripping with sarcasm and venom at this point in this post because my mother could fly a jet airplane upside down faster than she will ever understand Facebook. After all, this is the woman who was shocked when SIRI, the woman who speaks through the IPAD, appeared in the middle of one of our "training" sessions. Yep! Siri! My mom asks how does she talk to all the people who have IPADs at the same time. When I told my mom, "Say your name!" she leaned in close to the IPAD and said, "Say your name". If I'm lying, I'm dying." Well, we laughed so hard I was close to being sick as mom and Siri danced around with each other for a few minutes. They have not made any advancement in their relationship. I don't see it in their future.

But Facebook, oh yes, she is now a proud Facebook user. User? She has an account. She accesses that account when I am not around. She saves up questions for me. She wants to know why her e-mail is on Facebook but not in her email account. This took me awhile to grasp. Facebook was sending her notifications of the people clamoring to friend her. Mom spooked. How did they know her e-mail address? To make it worse, her computer thought those e-mails were suspicious so they were red. GASP! Red e-mails from Facebook that were not showing in her e-mail on the IPAD. Why not? Why was her  e-mail going to the wrong place? She would never learn. She is old and shouldn't even try but her sister wants her to and..."Stop! Stop a minute! Who is that in that picture?" She thinks it is a woman she knows from years past. It is an ad or something of Ellen Degeneres giving her bride a big kiss on the lips. Yep! And why doesn't she have a picture showing when her Facebook is up? I should put one there immediately. She wants one. Who would want a blank space where your picture should be and please make it one that is as flattering as possible. Her friends will be seeing it. And..........I got home at midnight tonight. I am going to quit and watch the second episode of the new House of Cards.

Y'all have not heard the end of this saga by any means. Misery loves company!

I am Writing Something...Sorta...Until Then...

Welcome, Sunday! Welcome!

I LOVE EACH OF YOU!