Hair - history revisited

Last night I took a walk down memory lane.  I saw a production of the rock musical Hair.  The performance values were great.  The voices were great.  And the flood of memories is great.

The 1960's were a turbulent time in the history of America.  Those are the years of my youth into adulthood.  Eisenhower was the first president I have a memory of.  He seemed to me a nice grandfatherly person.  He and Mamie felt safe.  There was a cold war going on - the Russians were our enemies.  But Ike and Mamie kept us safe.  From there we floated into a brief period of optimism - Kennedy was elected and all the world seemed bright and rosy and possible.

With shocking swiftness that ended with Kennedy's assassination, swiftly followed by Bobby Kennedy and Martin Luther King.  Viet Nam heated up and became nightly news.  Kent State happened.  America was breaking apart.  Just like now.

My dad died 29 years and 3 days ago.  I really miss him.  He lives on through me and my family, but his real physical presence is what I miss.  He was the wise touch stone in my life. I hear him talking to me still, but I long for new words for the new places I’ve traveled since we parted.

I walk these paths for both of us.

Learning to breath

Somehow I get myself in a pickle, over and over and over.  You'd think I'd have figured out by now that I'm not responsible for saving anyone and that I'm powerless to change anything but me.  Nevertheless, I find myself running as fast as I can to pick up the pieces for those around me, so their life is nicer and smoother.  In the process I give up my time, money, and sanity.  THEN, I get resentful.

Lost

I'm feeling a bit lost the past few days.  My Mom's memory is taking some sever hits and her short term memory is really really short - like gone in an instant.  As she loses her autonomy I am losing my history and being forced to step up.  I feel more like stepping out and away.  I want to run.

I need a familiar.

Lost

Just spent time writing a new post, the phone rang, I went to help my friend find some info on the internet, accidentally closed the Blogger window and POOF - gone.  Time gone, thoughts gone, post gone.

Kind of a metaphor for how helping too much goes.

When I help

When I help my adult children, am I really helping?  Or am I crippling them? Is my help a sop to my vanity?  Or is it a sincere effort to lift them up?  Are my ideas of how to live life even relevant to their lives?  Sometime I think it is time for me to go off to the forest and live a hermit's life and let my kids fend for themselves.  After all, they are in their 30's, they should have a clue by now.

Too Bad I Can't Drive and Write

When I'm driving in my car, I can think of a million topics for blogging.  I sort and edit and drill down to the meat of the subjects.  When I'm confronted with a big white screen and a row of tools, all my pithy remarks go poof.

Lately I've been pondering how much I did like how things were done in the past.  I don't want to do away with computers and smart phones and beautiful HDTV, but I miss the human touch of "the olden days."  I liked dialing "O" for operator and getting a human - not a phone tree.  I liked calling my local newspaper and the person answering had my accent and was located in my town; not the Philippines.  There was better connection with local human interaction, instead of computers and far away helpers.  There is something nice about being able to say "did it rain at your house" as a conversation starter and know that the person on the other end lives, just like you, in an area that just had thunderstorms roll through after months of drought.

The local human touch seems to have gone poof.

Bedeviled is how I feel when dealing with government employees and agencies.  I feel mired in a point of view that doesn't seem to care about my limited resources of time and money.  They can spin wheels, and ask minute questions, and re-convein meetings to read documents, while I am paying with my hard earned time and money.

My days a filled already.  How am I to carve time for these intrusive investigations?  And what is the outcome to be?  I do my paperwork truthfully and as carefully as I can.  I have no extra funds, but they seem bent on pursuing me.

As I child I read a story about Brier Rabbit and how he got stuck in a Brier patch by a tar baby.  The more he pushed and pulled to get free, the deeper he was sucked in.  While the story is little told in these days of political correctness, that is exactly how I feel.  I am Brier Rabbit and the government is the Tar Baby.  If I fight or defend myself, I will be sucked deeper and deeper until I disappear in the tar patch.

Re-start

Writing was a joy.  It was like painting with words.  Once upon a time words had color and texture.  Laying them on a page made me pause as I teased out the images I wanted to share.

Today I was driving and listening to NPR as they talked about politics in Chicago and then in Washington D.C.  Later a program came on about Sacramento political doings.  A few days ago I read a blog about Advertising and how it started with the snake in the Garden of Eden.  All this spinning of ideas and words - it all gives me a giant headache.  Words used to feel friendly.  Now I feel like they are something to be wary of.

Fine print - be ware

Trust me - be ware

News - be ware

Words from the mouth of any one over the age of 7 - be ware

How to find friendly words again?

Set the example - tell the truth

Say what you feel

Say when you don't know

Ask  and then LISTEN

After 60 + years of "just winging it,"  I've decided to create an owners manual for my body.  I don't seem to be taking very good care of it and it's letting me know with a variety of aches and pains.  I've started with this blog - that's the brain food.  I'm logging my intake and out put for a week to see if there are trends.  I've made a check up appointment with my doctor and am creating a list of questions.

I've exercised and dieted before to achieve a "look."  Health as a goal was always lip service - want I really wanted was to be slim.  NOW  I want health -  GOOD HEALTH.

If you can think of questions I should ask, actions I should take, please let me know.

This is the most serious I've been.

Back - if I'm bothering you, sorry

I started this blog because I thought it would be great to be accountable to the great "out there" for a daily or almost daily journal.  I stopped because I don't seem to know how the control panel of this works and when I was posting, I was bothering some people. How they got my posts, I have no clue, but they did.   They didn't want to be bothered with my thoughts and feelings.

I'm starting again.  I need an outlet and a sounding board.  You, the big "OUT THERE" are it.  If you get this and don't want it - let me know.  Or, maybe you could just delete me and go about your day.  If you put me in your junk file or filter - I'm not insulted, actually I probably won't even know.

I need a new beginning.  My body is aging and I need a way to be accountable to keep me moving and growing and thinking so that I don't rust.  Body with rust is bad!

Mother Nature doesn't read calendars

SPRING!

Cydney Jones shared Gratefulness.org (A Network for Grateful Living)

I wish we could all hold this thought in the front of our minds - especially in the middle of the night when the could have/should have demons rule!

WORD FOR THE DAY
Saturday, Dec. 29

Those who love you are not fooled by mistakes you have made or dark images you hold about yourself. They remember your beauty when you feel ugly; your wholeness when you are broken; your innocence when you feel guilty; and your purpose when you are confused.

African saying

Hope

Christmas is a day loaded with memories, emotion and hope.  I hope that with every person you meet, you find a friend.  I hope that with every gift you give you tuck inside some unconditional love.  I hope that with every present you receive, you receive the gift of community, understanding, and joy.

This is our world.  I hope we share well and fully in all the blessings and possibilities.  

Christmas Eve

Haven't been posting lately.  We've been pushed to the max with work and commitments.  One of my daughter's friends did a facebook post about presence vs presents.  I really wish I could work towards presence - it is a much greater gift.

Last year I did all kinds of activities with my granddaughter during the holiday season.  We made fudge, went ice skating, saw the Christmas lights.  This year there wasn't time for any of that.  Because of that, it doesn't seem like Christmas.  Give me time for presence with family and friends and I'd be rich beyond measure!

Blue Skies

Beautiful blue skies today - so very bright!  Blustery and cold and bright.  The perfect weather for the day before the end - it was spirit lifting.  Change is afoot and tomorrow is supposed to be stormy.  I am so grateful for today - I needed the sunshine.  Thank you!

It's Very Odd

Some days it feels like you just can't catch your breath.  This is the season of too much and too little time.  Lately, everything has piled on to make this year especially jam packed. My days aren't filled with Christmas merriment, rather just daily hum drum and odd awful occurrences that keep me running from 4 am to  6pm.  It's everything from family problems to a skunk spraying my front door.  From finding my truck gas needle on empty at the exact same time I left my purse with all credit cards, cash and AAA card in the desk back at the plant.  I only got my first Christmas lights up two days ago.  I went to try and buy a Christmas tree today and all the lots were gone - really - packed up and gone.

The only thing I can figure is that I'm being taught that people are what important.  It's not about the stuff.  It's not about the wrapping or the wrappers.  It's all about the family, friends, acquaintances and strangers.  Be nice.  Have hope.  Share joy.

Ask Sister Mary Martha: Our Swords to Plowshares

So well said here:

Ask Sister Mary Martha: Our Swords to Plowshares

All I can add is Amen.

Odd spirits

Yesterday I went to San Francisco to see a play, the Book of Mormon.  I really enjoyed the play, although it had some tough themes and poked fun at others sacred beliefs.  I felt a bit bad for enjoying it so much.  I consoled myself with the thought that the Mormons were broadminded enough about the play to put a whole series of advertisements in the playbill, so they mustn't be too upset about it.

Before the play we were walking around Union Square looking in the Christmas windows of the shops.  A man dressed as a Buddist monk came up to me.  He handed me a little prayer card and told he he was making prayers for peace and did I want to pray for peace.  I said yes, as I do believe in prayer and peace.  He then put a small bead bracelet on my wrist, and asked me to write my name and my prayer request in his book.  I put my name there and then he asked me for money.  I said I didn't have any money and he took back his prayer card, his bracelet and walked away.

I still want to pray.  I pray that we find common ground between all people.  I pray that we celebrate each other, and don't put down other's beliefs that are loving, joyful and peaceful.  I pray that we all help to create a peaceful, joyful, loving world with dignity for all.

To see the best

When I was little, I thought I was in a competition to be the best.  I thought the top of the hill, the top of the heap was where I was supposed to want to be.  

I thought there was only one right way.  I thought it was in or out.  On or off.  Cool or un-cool.  Popular or unpopular.  And on and on.  This is such an exclusive way of thinking.  As the years have gone by, I've come to find the middle ground and find it good.  I've come to realize there is beauty in everyone and all.  

Those struggling the most are those who are most harmed by the early black and white separations.  We need to not separate, but to celebrate each other.  The whole is better with us all feeling good and coming together.  The true best is an ALL not a one.