I figured it out -- I am out of sync! I don't fit youth, trendiness, night clubs, staying up late, rows with boyfriends. It makes sense now. I'm not a stair climber, a fast walker, I look down when I walk to see what my feet are engaging -- or not. I hold on to rails going up or down stairs and wear comfortable shoes. What is the biblical quote? "I have given up the things of youth." Thank goodness. It is the modern world I don't fit. I'm out of sync because I grunt and groan more, can't see or hear good, dribble in my drawers. I husband my energy more, move slower, think more.
I'm out of sync with all those inspirational tidbits on Facebook. I no longer believe in the need to move, travel, adventure, or experience to be whole. I don't need a hobby, purpose, quest, or fulfillment. I don't need to put my feet in sand, read more or less, climb up rocks, stand in a storm, cast myself on the ocean, complete a task, build a boat. I don't need to complete my life's journey with some kind of big bang epiphany. Oh wait, I just had one.
The world is busy tearing down and building up -- stuff; stadiums, roads, beliefs -- stuff. I am somehow past that at this point in my life. The staff of life isn't stuff. I'm past shopping. Thank goodness. I'm not out of sync, I'm just past a whole lot of stuff, a whole lot of life. Thank goodness.
Driving to have breakfast with Claire this morning I noticed lots of people still engaged with the world, still in sync. The hard working people: painters, plumbers, mechanics, cooks, clerks, drivers, dog walkers. The young hard working people to whom the world belongs. There are mother's birthing babies, the babies struggling to live. Past that too. Judy Collins sang a song Let's Drink to the Hard Working People. I always loved that song, but it means something different to me now.
Stephanie's grandmother is ill and Stephanie and family have traveled to Colorado to be with her. My thoughts and love go with her for such an emotional journey. This is the part of life I'm still connected to. I'm sure she would appreciate your loving thoughts also.
Anyway Connor is not available for a playdate today. It's odd, no playdate, no appointments, no doctors, no car maintenance, no lunches or dinners planned with friends, no library drop off or pick up, bless the Nook, no agenda of any kind for three days. That was a long time coming.
Two worthy quotes:
"Do the right thing with spirit." Benjamin Franklin from the book about Jane Franklin.
-- and--
"You don't have to attend every argument you are invited to." Lynn posted that on FB but didn't attribute an author.
Final Wednesday thoughts as I'm sitting here enjoying Spring. Of all the harbingers of Spring; RV's on the road, garage sale signs, budding trees, open windows, gentle spring rains, robins building nests. My favorite, by far, is the frogs waking up. I love it when I hear the first chorus' arising from the wetlands.
--and--
Flowers
After the helicopter crash at the Seattle Space Needle, after the horrific mudslide at Oso, after comforting friends with terminally ill loved ones, I mentioned to Ian that that is why we should never take life for granted. We should remind our loved ones often how much we love them. How we should never lose a loved one with regrets in our heart that we didn't do the right thing. That our last words were the right words because you never ever know if they will be the last words.
--and--
I woke this morning to a beautiful bouquet of Spring flowers sitting on my counter. My heart overflowed. I asked Ian if he bought them because of our conversation?
He said no, he bought them for his photo shoot.
So when you see the posters and see the flowers, I got them second hand.
I'm past that also.
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
Sunday, March 23, 2014
Feeling Out of Sync -- continued
I read this blurb on the internet the other day, "Did Miranda Kerr get a boob job?" Now that is a question born to put you out of sync with the world. Who is Miranda Kerr? and When did boob jobs become noteworthy? Maybe I could understand it if it was the Duchess of Cambridge or Meryl Streep, but who is Miranda Kerr?
Traffic puts me off, as does the price of gas, the price of movies, the price of Legos. About the only thing I'm not out of sync with anymore is friends and family. Not the friends and family discount coupon at the Gap either, but the real deal, sons, brothers, book club ladies, sisters.
I'm not stuck in the past, I don't want to go there, but I'm sure not current/modern either. I'm just modern enough to be in sync with cell phones and pedicures, otherwise I'm out in lulu lolly land. Out of sync emotionally, spiritually, medically, to some politically, work, entertainment, financially. Whoo boy!
I think partly it is age, getting to that invisible age. If it walks like an old lady and talks like an old lady it probably is an old lady. Partly it's personality, once a loner always a loner. Partly it's temperament; the things I see people get all hot and bothered over bewilders me.
A current pet peeve of many of the fellow human beings I am surrounded by is anger over people talking on their cell phones in public places; on the bus, in the elevator, in line, at the grocery store. How did this human interaction noise become so bothersome? If two people are standing next to you in line at the grocery store chatting you wouldn't give it a thought, but the idea/event/experience of one person on a cell phone and the other person not visible has become rude. How did that become hateful behavior whether on the bus, in the elevator, in line or at the grocery store?
I feel tethered to the world. I feel tethered to something bigger than me. I'm certainly tethered to my family. Tethered by a string like a balloon or a bobble head, the rest of me pretty much bounces and flops about out of sync. I don't feel bad particularly or depressed, just out of touch with the world. What I do know is it is right. I don't know how yet, but the internal struggle produces the exact right outcome.
The struggle without success. As humans we tag on the happy ending and call it a fairy tale, a myth. The dragon gets destroyed, Cinderella marries the Prince, the boy get the girl, the girl saves the farm, but the struggle is the truth. The day after day continuing to choose to live; to chop wood and carry water.
Does the ant get to become the queen? Does a bear experience elation at the top of the mountain or does it lumber forward to the next berry bush, the next honey tree? Do salmon swim up stream to Nirvana? Does a new blue Ford get us though the struggle. One step after another, one spoonful after another, one widget after another, one nights sleep after another, one heart beat after another, one cup of coffee after another puts us in sync -- I need to remember that.
I'm so in sync with coffee. If coffee will save, I am saved. If it kills, I am doomed.
I took Connor to Red Robin for dinner. Red Robin now serves their bottomless french fries in little round tins instead of a basket. Unbeknownst to me the little tin didn't have a bottom, so when I lifted the tin to move it french fries spilled everywhere. Later I asked the waiter for a refill and as he was walking away Connor calls after him, "And bring them in a bowl with a bottom for my Granny." The waiter brought them in a bowl with a bottom much to Connor's satisfaction. That is the very first time Connor ever looked out for his Granny.
I read a good book, finally, The Buddha in the Attic.
I saw a good movie, finally, About Time.
In sync or out have a satisfying day.
Traffic puts me off, as does the price of gas, the price of movies, the price of Legos. About the only thing I'm not out of sync with anymore is friends and family. Not the friends and family discount coupon at the Gap either, but the real deal, sons, brothers, book club ladies, sisters.
I'm not stuck in the past, I don't want to go there, but I'm sure not current/modern either. I'm just modern enough to be in sync with cell phones and pedicures, otherwise I'm out in lulu lolly land. Out of sync emotionally, spiritually, medically, to some politically, work, entertainment, financially. Whoo boy!
I think partly it is age, getting to that invisible age. If it walks like an old lady and talks like an old lady it probably is an old lady. Partly it's personality, once a loner always a loner. Partly it's temperament; the things I see people get all hot and bothered over bewilders me.
A current pet peeve of many of the fellow human beings I am surrounded by is anger over people talking on their cell phones in public places; on the bus, in the elevator, in line, at the grocery store. How did this human interaction noise become so bothersome? If two people are standing next to you in line at the grocery store chatting you wouldn't give it a thought, but the idea/event/experience of one person on a cell phone and the other person not visible has become rude. How did that become hateful behavior whether on the bus, in the elevator, in line or at the grocery store?
I feel tethered to the world. I feel tethered to something bigger than me. I'm certainly tethered to my family. Tethered by a string like a balloon or a bobble head, the rest of me pretty much bounces and flops about out of sync. I don't feel bad particularly or depressed, just out of touch with the world. What I do know is it is right. I don't know how yet, but the internal struggle produces the exact right outcome.
The struggle without success. As humans we tag on the happy ending and call it a fairy tale, a myth. The dragon gets destroyed, Cinderella marries the Prince, the boy get the girl, the girl saves the farm, but the struggle is the truth. The day after day continuing to choose to live; to chop wood and carry water.
Does the ant get to become the queen? Does a bear experience elation at the top of the mountain or does it lumber forward to the next berry bush, the next honey tree? Do salmon swim up stream to Nirvana? Does a new blue Ford get us though the struggle. One step after another, one spoonful after another, one widget after another, one nights sleep after another, one heart beat after another, one cup of coffee after another puts us in sync -- I need to remember that.
I'm so in sync with coffee. If coffee will save, I am saved. If it kills, I am doomed.
I took Connor to Red Robin for dinner. Red Robin now serves their bottomless french fries in little round tins instead of a basket. Unbeknownst to me the little tin didn't have a bottom, so when I lifted the tin to move it french fries spilled everywhere. Later I asked the waiter for a refill and as he was walking away Connor calls after him, "And bring them in a bowl with a bottom for my Granny." The waiter brought them in a bowl with a bottom much to Connor's satisfaction. That is the very first time Connor ever looked out for his Granny.
I read a good book, finally, The Buddha in the Attic.
I saw a good movie, finally, About Time.
In sync or out have a satisfying day.
Thursday, March 13, 2014
It was Lovely
Roger took me out to a restaurant last night for a delicious Italian dinner. Stephanie was unable to join us so it was Connor, Roger, starving after a bike ride (small for him, big for some, impossible for me, he only went 10 miles instead of forty), and me. First out of the kitchen was delicious Italian bread and olive oil with some butter on the side.
I opened a pat of butter, so Connor opened a pat of butter. I spread some on my bread, so Connor spread some on his bread. He spread some more and then some more, he licked the butter and then licked some more, he stuck his finger in the butter and licked that also then did that some more. I asked Roger if he had ever done it before and Roger assured me he hadn't. When Connor's little cheese pizza arrived he put the remaining bits of butter on the pizza and drank it as it melted. When he finally picked up the pizza to eat he said, "My pizza is leaking." It wasn't leaking much, because by then the butter was practically all gone.
Remember how dad would eat butter like cheese, that was Connor chowing down on butter last night.
I didn't buy Connor a Christmas present because I planned on little excursions throughout the year. Last night's play date was a scheduled trip to Lego's. When I got there I said, "Let's go to the Lego's Store."
He swept is hands around in a grand exuberant gesture and said with equal exuberance, "Granny, I have plenty of Legos, look."
"I want to go to the park." I have now heard everything.
At the park Connor eyed the monkey bars and said, "I need to learn how to cross the monkey bars. I'm practicing. Practicing means your mom and dad help you until you can do it alone."
In that one visit Connor validated truisms with the innocence of youth: Butter is delicious. We all have plenty. There are many simple joys. Practice makes us successful. It's okay to sometimes need a little help.
And he channeled Dad. Lovely evening.
These truisms helped ground me in reality. I'd been feeling "out of sync with the world," I often am, but it's felt more burdensome lately. I've felt like I was hitting hard edged boundaries instead of the usual softened edges, the blurred lines, the borders of ourself where we connect to other human beings. Lovey evening being taught the world eye view of a five year old.
Lynn's and my trip to the coast was lovely, after her walking parks for a year it was nice to revisit our friendship. Sort of a take a historical look at our friendship. Renew our friendship vows so to speak. And then I made the connection to family.
Family reunions do that. As a family we revisit our connections, take a sort of historical view of family, and renew our family vows - so to speak.
Here is to blurred edges. Family is lovely.
I opened a pat of butter, so Connor opened a pat of butter. I spread some on my bread, so Connor spread some on his bread. He spread some more and then some more, he licked the butter and then licked some more, he stuck his finger in the butter and licked that also then did that some more. I asked Roger if he had ever done it before and Roger assured me he hadn't. When Connor's little cheese pizza arrived he put the remaining bits of butter on the pizza and drank it as it melted. When he finally picked up the pizza to eat he said, "My pizza is leaking." It wasn't leaking much, because by then the butter was practically all gone.
Remember how dad would eat butter like cheese, that was Connor chowing down on butter last night.
I didn't buy Connor a Christmas present because I planned on little excursions throughout the year. Last night's play date was a scheduled trip to Lego's. When I got there I said, "Let's go to the Lego's Store."
He swept is hands around in a grand exuberant gesture and said with equal exuberance, "Granny, I have plenty of Legos, look."
"I want to go to the park." I have now heard everything.
At the park Connor eyed the monkey bars and said, "I need to learn how to cross the monkey bars. I'm practicing. Practicing means your mom and dad help you until you can do it alone."
In that one visit Connor validated truisms with the innocence of youth: Butter is delicious. We all have plenty. There are many simple joys. Practice makes us successful. It's okay to sometimes need a little help.
And he channeled Dad. Lovely evening.
These truisms helped ground me in reality. I'd been feeling "out of sync with the world," I often am, but it's felt more burdensome lately. I've felt like I was hitting hard edged boundaries instead of the usual softened edges, the blurred lines, the borders of ourself where we connect to other human beings. Lovey evening being taught the world eye view of a five year old.
Lynn's and my trip to the coast was lovely, after her walking parks for a year it was nice to revisit our friendship. Sort of a take a historical look at our friendship. Renew our friendship vows so to speak. And then I made the connection to family.
Family reunions do that. As a family we revisit our connections, take a sort of historical view of family, and renew our family vows - so to speak.
Here is to blurred edges. Family is lovely.
Friday, March 7, 2014
Changes
I know you have been wondering, as I have, who invented that wonderful white line that marks the right hand side of the highway that helps you drive blithely along. Years ago Jean and I were on a road trip, can't remember where, probably headed to Colorado when we remarked on how much that new-ish white line helped when driving. How it improved night time safety, awareness, visibility. I never gave it another thought until recently. Driving in the dark every morning to work, in the rain, in the fog, in the drizzle, in the sleet, in the mist, I somehow became cognizant of it again. I asked Lynn what she knew about it during our Olympic Peninsular road trip.
Lynn was as educated as I on the origins and inventor. Lynn didn't know the who, what, or when, but she was confident who ever suggested it to the city council was booed off the stage. "You want tax money to pay for WHAT?" I wanted a name, somebody to personally remember and thank for improving my life. Somebody had to discover that, think of that, lobby for that. I did the inevitable Google search and learned quite a bit about Road Surface Markings. And now you will know also.
Three states came up with center line markings simultaneously and seemingly independently. This is the center line, not the right side. One Mr Edward Hines of the Board of Roads after following a leaky milk truck in 1911. Trenton River Road/Dead Man's Curve in Wayne County MI. Part of the Columbia River Highway in OR, and Indio/Riverside CA, never quite sorted that one out, some lady doctor paid for it herself after she was forced off the road.
Mr Hines was inducted into the MI Transportation Hall of Fame in 1972. I'll bet you didn't know that! 1972? Oh, yeah and he won the first Paul Mijksenaar Design for Function award in 2011. 2011! Better late than never I suppose. What's a hundred years more or less.
The fight over color, yellow or white, went on until white was finally standardized in 1971 and then it wasn't completed until 1975. The gears of government move ever cautiously.
I still don't know who invented the right marking but learned it is called the "fog line." The weeks of heavy fog here around Mukilteo is one of the reasons I love that silly line. They were used in England during WWII where people could use a small torch to toddle their way home during blackouts.
Ancient Roman roads had center markings. Change? Ain't it something?
Now the change that worries folks is social media; here to ruin. Children don't play outside, don't interact, can't spell. The whole fabric of society is disintegrating as we sit here and look at Facebook. The ones I talk to that are upset over LOL and TY, or for the more colorful, WTF, are only concerned with the spellings that they are familiar with and don't take into account that spellings have changed before and will change again. I don't think they are objecting that old English is dead or that we don't write in Latin. Spelling has changed as has homes, clothing, entertainment, mores, the social fabric of a community, but apparently not center line road markings. Anyone want to go back to the social mores of Puritan America?
We drive instead of walk. We use flush toilets. Our books are electronic, at least mine is finally. No one takes a chariot to work, to my knowledge. How is everyone's Kurig or comparable machine today? Was that a change worth making?
Thinking about social media changing America made my mind hearken back to some of my childhood activities, button tins, ants in a jar, raw potato snacks. Connor has more that a few electronic type toys. Toys that need batteries or plugged in. Toys that are changing the social fabric of society. Yet at my house he still loves to cut paper, open envelopes with a letter opener, pour liquid out of his very own pitcher, sharpen pencils, or play with boxes and button tins.
Change is inevitable, slowly or with lightening speed, change will happen. Just ask the past.
Quote: Heidegger
"Thinking does not bring knowledge as do the sciences.
Thinking does not produce usable practical wisdom.
Thinking does not solve the riddle of the universe.
Thinking does not endow us with the power to act.
We live because we are alive,
and we think because we are thinking beings"
Now I'm thinking where did the phrase "straight dope" originate from.
Lynn was as educated as I on the origins and inventor. Lynn didn't know the who, what, or when, but she was confident who ever suggested it to the city council was booed off the stage. "You want tax money to pay for WHAT?" I wanted a name, somebody to personally remember and thank for improving my life. Somebody had to discover that, think of that, lobby for that. I did the inevitable Google search and learned quite a bit about Road Surface Markings. And now you will know also.
Three states came up with center line markings simultaneously and seemingly independently. This is the center line, not the right side. One Mr Edward Hines of the Board of Roads after following a leaky milk truck in 1911. Trenton River Road/Dead Man's Curve in Wayne County MI. Part of the Columbia River Highway in OR, and Indio/Riverside CA, never quite sorted that one out, some lady doctor paid for it herself after she was forced off the road.
Mr Hines was inducted into the MI Transportation Hall of Fame in 1972. I'll bet you didn't know that! 1972? Oh, yeah and he won the first Paul Mijksenaar Design for Function award in 2011. 2011! Better late than never I suppose. What's a hundred years more or less.
The fight over color, yellow or white, went on until white was finally standardized in 1971 and then it wasn't completed until 1975. The gears of government move ever cautiously.
I still don't know who invented the right marking but learned it is called the "fog line." The weeks of heavy fog here around Mukilteo is one of the reasons I love that silly line. They were used in England during WWII where people could use a small torch to toddle their way home during blackouts.
Ancient Roman roads had center markings. Change? Ain't it something?
Now the change that worries folks is social media; here to ruin. Children don't play outside, don't interact, can't spell. The whole fabric of society is disintegrating as we sit here and look at Facebook. The ones I talk to that are upset over LOL and TY, or for the more colorful, WTF, are only concerned with the spellings that they are familiar with and don't take into account that spellings have changed before and will change again. I don't think they are objecting that old English is dead or that we don't write in Latin. Spelling has changed as has homes, clothing, entertainment, mores, the social fabric of a community, but apparently not center line road markings. Anyone want to go back to the social mores of Puritan America?
We drive instead of walk. We use flush toilets. Our books are electronic, at least mine is finally. No one takes a chariot to work, to my knowledge. How is everyone's Kurig or comparable machine today? Was that a change worth making?
Thinking about social media changing America made my mind hearken back to some of my childhood activities, button tins, ants in a jar, raw potato snacks. Connor has more that a few electronic type toys. Toys that need batteries or plugged in. Toys that are changing the social fabric of society. Yet at my house he still loves to cut paper, open envelopes with a letter opener, pour liquid out of his very own pitcher, sharpen pencils, or play with boxes and button tins.
Change is inevitable, slowly or with lightening speed, change will happen. Just ask the past.
Quote: Heidegger
"Thinking does not bring knowledge as do the sciences.
Thinking does not produce usable practical wisdom.
Thinking does not solve the riddle of the universe.
Thinking does not endow us with the power to act.
We live because we are alive,
and we think because we are thinking beings"
Now I'm thinking where did the phrase "straight dope" originate from.
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