The Abyss

I was having a friendly chat with Kathy Noland and mentioned my myriad aches and pains. I said I don't know where they come from. I was really doing fine, in fact I was down right smug at how little arthritis and aches and pains I had, when it seemed like all of a sudden -- wham -- I'm aching everywhere, head to foot, just like an old lady. Just like any old lady would. 

Kathy said a wise nurse told her once people don't age gracefully or gradually, aging is like stepping off into an abyss. Over the cliff I have gone. 

And on a lighter note I am an old fart. I make old references, old jokes, and listen to old music. I have old knees, old complaints, old sleep patterns, old books, old habits, and old dust. I have my old lady cane for balance and old lady house slippers so I can toddle around my home in shoes with good arch support for my old feet. I am not aging gracefully.

I had to drive to work in the wind. I hate driving in the wind.
I had to drive to work in the rain. I hate driving to work in the rain.
I had to drive to work in the fog. I hate driving to work in the fog.
Maybe I just hate driving to work like any old lady.
I will admit I am a wee bit jealous of Kathy Noland being her sweet retired self. Her sweet young retired self.


Roger was telling me he was talking to Connor and Connor was quite concerned that Santa wouldn't find him this year. He will be so many places: Mom's, Dad's, Papa's and Gramma's, and/or Granny's that how would Santa find him?

Connor went into that sweet six year old narcissistic mode. "Yeah, but what about me? What will happen to me? How will I be taken care of? How will my Christmas needs be met? "

Roger assured him Santa had his ways and you never knew where Santa might leave a present.

And isn't this true for all of us, the human us? That buried narcissistic us. We all want to feel safe without anxiety over our future, no guess work, no maybes. We all want to feel comforted by loved ones. We all want to feel our needs are met without fear of being left or forgotten or lost. Yes, love is important, very important, but first comes the deeper more primitive emotional needs. Am I taken care of?

I have learned many lessons from my sons, but this was an important lesson to be reminded of by my grandson. There are so many in the world who do have to wake up destitute. People all over the planet without food, water, shelter, heat or even more mundane gifts like garbage pick-up, convenience stores, good tires, scotch tape, or something like brown sugar for that last batch of Christmas cookies. I for one appreciate my many gifts, Christmas and otherwise.

Christmas is nigh, so I will concentrate on the gifts of living, young or old. I am warm. I have books, movies, a home, family, food, I can walk even if with a cane for balance. I have Connor. He isn't making me a great grandparent yet, but I have a great-great niece coming my way. I have a car, gas and places to go. I have a job although it seems a bit uncertain for now. I have friends and a New Year's Day get together planned. I love playdates.

I am older, not dead and still learning those all important life lessons.

Many of those life lessons I learned at the knees of my children. Roger taught me what discipline looks like, how if you want to do something to slow down and do it right, how to save money, buy a home. Ian taught me that to succeed you have to fail 200 times, how to be soft on the outside and cast iron on the inside, to never deny who I am, to rarely get angry or out of sorts, how to go through life with grace. Christian taught me what art looks like, contentment, how to master a skill, how to expand my reading, my thinking, my humor.

If you ever want to know if God is great look to your children. Look, listen, and learn.

For those of you who saw, and or, followed the wrapping wars challenge on Facebook, I have to tell you that besides creating beautiful packages, Ian has his own distribution system. There are no name tags on any package. NONE!

The lesson I am currently working on is walking. I have great inspiration from many many loved ones; Jerry and Jane, Mark and Amber, Roger, Roger, Roger, Julia and Jeff, Tal, are you walking? Kathy Noland, Art Manning, when I talk to Janice she wants to get back to walking also. So 2016 is the year of the walk. Julia I don't think I will ever get to the woggle stage. Actually I know I will never get to the woggle stage. I mentioned to my friend Sandy I intend to walk; not far, not fast, not hard, but walk. Maybe wobble with my cane.

Since I have quit smoking I have gained seven to ten pounds and it feels like 207. I intend to walk them off. No cigarettes for eight weeks folks, eight weeks.

I have completed my bleeding for this family Christmas dinner. I only bled a little in the Carrot cake. Today I will organize everything else. My family gets left-overs this year. Thanksgiving left-overs. Turkey and ham left-overs. Delicious left-overs.

Also for 2016 I'm starting the Book Challenge List from the Jack Russell Memorial Library. A challenge list that my friend Sandy, or maybe Kathleen, I am getting old and forgetful, gave me for 2015. Well, better late than never, so readers start your engines the first book challenge off the book challenge list is: A book with a one word title. I'm reading Gilead, my book club's February selection.

Mark Harris I just saw the comment you left on a past blog. I'm sorry I missed it at the time, just send me a kick in the pants so I will be sure to notice in the future, or message me in FB -- I'm glad you love me.

Jeff is going to England -- somebody loves him.
Hannah is expecting a girl -- somebody loves her.
Chris Daley where is our Greenleaf update -- don't you love us?

Last great movie I watched: The Wrecking Crew, about session musicians. Great movie, I felt like I had completed "Rock n Roll 101" after I had finished. See still learning I am.

Bring on that wind, rain and fog.

Hey the abyss isn't so bad, come on down.
~ and ~
Merry Christmas Eve.

The World is Hard and Strange and Loving. I think!

The world is not always the world I want, but I fear it is the world I have. If I want to make the world a better place I have to make myself a better person. I believed that years ago and I believe that today. "Everything has a price."

"The key to a happy life is to accept you are never actually in control" Jurassic Park. Wisdom can come from some surprisingly strange sources.

I tend to lean on love, what wisdom I can muster, and beauty, like Mahalia Jackson singing a beautiful Christmas carol: Christmas Comes To Us All Once A Year

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wo3kWwnA5fg

I so want this beautiful sentimental Christmas carol to be true, it lifts my spirit, but I believe the truth is more along the lines of there are a lot of non-Christians that December 25th comes too also. I wish them peace and love, and babies born in a world without fear and guns and ambushes and death.


Mary Carstensen shared a fabulous speech from Australia on Facebook; Nine Life Lessons. I embraced it and want to share it because I believe in the basic truths in it. I've spoken these thoughts myself, but Tim Minchin said in minutes what I have tried to say for years in my inarticulate way.

https://www.facebook.com/video.php?v=855352884549930&theater

In case you don't have the time to listen, here is his list. Nine life lessons:
1.  Don't have a dream.
2.  Don't seek happiness.
3.  There is lots of luck involved.
4.  Exercise (this was a hard one for me.)
5.  Be hard on your opinions, examine them often.
6.  Define yourself by what you love, not what you are against.
7.  Be a teacher, share your wealth of knowledge.
8.  Respect people with less power.
9.  Don't rush.

Quotes:
A true sign of intelligence is not knowledge, but imagination.
Albert Einstein
Strive not to be a success but rather be of value. Albert Einstein
Talent perceives differences, genius, unity. William Butler Yeats

Best six doctors: Sushine, water, rest, air, exercise (there it is again), diet. I can't remember where I copied this from. Sometimes I love the world so much when little gifts like this drop in my lap. I'm lucky -- life lesson #3.

It's weird how traditions come and go.

I can't believe how sad I am about not smoking. My friend for years is sorely missed, but I'm still NOT smoking no matter how much I want one during stressful moments, after dinner, sitting at the computer, writing, after a shower, before going to see Connor, while cooking, watching a movie, reading a book, before I go to sleep, after I wake up, and on and on and on...

Jerry, I finally finished Strange Fruit. That was a hard hard book. How did the South ever change? How did it ever progress to a more tolerant era? How did it give freedoms and understanding where there was none?  How did reasonable win out? Did it? Can reasonableness win again?

Does this mean there is hope for change now, with the current hatreds rampant, with old hatreds resurfaced?

The world is hard and strange and loving and finally full of wisdom.
I think!

I love a world where I can "lift" wisdom from here and there and every where. Thank you world for sharing, teaching, and giving -- Life lesson # 7.

Ain't It Awful

I'm at a loss looking for words, the right words, good words, meaningful words to express and assimilate the latest mass shooting.

San Bernardino, my home town for many years. Feeling the close connections. Feelings of love for the Carrillo Clan flooding me. Ain't it awful just doesn't suffice.

I lived there, drove the streets, had picnics in the parks, had holiday dinners, biked, watched children play, went to school, learned to love menudo and sweet bread, buried my family, all in the city limits. The city where I survived my own personal mass deaths.

Aint' it awful ain't enough. I read the news feeds; blame the NRA, religion, politics, Obama, open carry, a lack of mental health care services, prayer. I can't wrap my head around it. Facts don't suffice. I can't combat it, ignore it, understand it. I can't vote it, pray it, express it, or blame it. The magnitude is so devastating, so much larger than me, that I can only feel it deep, deep inside me.

I understand praying a last desperate cry. A cry into an abyss for an event so much larger than ourselves. The prayer that please it can't be so, it can't be true. The prayer for something, for anything, but a full understanding of the truth. I've uttered that prayer myself.

How can the deaths of so many in a smallish city in California be perceived as a threat to a way of life somewhere else? How can it be political? How can it not? It's not a blow to a belief system, to religion or open carry or gun control. It was a blow to those people, at that place, at that time. It was a blow beyond my understanding carried out by humans beyond my understanding.

My friend's granddaughter has a birthday Saturday. I was primping and fussing over some dolls from my doll collection that I intended to pass along to little Stella when I heard the breaking news feed. Dolls to death. How much can you weep?

Can we pray and have gun control? Does it have to be a choice for or against? One or the other?

Let me tell you a story about Christian. Christian didn't like to be read to. As a child when I was reading him a story he squirmed and wiggled and asked to be excused. Later in grade school he didn't like to read. I would pay him a buck a book to try to ignite an interest in books to no avail. I paid him to accomplish his required academic reading. Is it still twenty minutes a night? Then one day, he was about 14 years old I guess, he brought me a song he had discovered and was so excited by it that he had to share with me.

It was Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Iron Maiden. I listened to the music and asked him, "Do you want to read the original?" After his aghast disbelief that there was an original, I handed him an English Literature book turned to the epic poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Christian loved reading that poem. With the lit book in hand he went on to read Edgar Allan Poe and other classical works and became a life long reader. Greek, Roman, Norse mythology, philosophy, history, fantasy, fiction and non, he reads it all.

Here is the lesson he taught me. It seems all my important life lessons I learned from my children, or as Picasso said, "Don't teach children to draw, learn from them."

What Christian taught me is the world can be deeper than what presents itself on the surface. The world is deeper. It is deeper and sweeter and more profound and bigger than we as humans have the capacity to even imagine. Paying Christian a buck to read some sixth grade book didn't open his love of reading. Connecting did.

I didn't plan for or imagine Christian reading Norse history when I stopped and listened to his music. When I accepted the gift of him sharing something that I had no love for, understanding of, or appreciation of, I mean who loves Iron Maiden? What is on the surface is just the beginning to deeper understanding.

I can't present the words or pretend to understand the causes of the world's ills, horrors and sorrows. I can't blame Obama, Planned Parenthood, the NRA, or religion.

I can seek a deeper understanding.