Diary | Playing for Time

Taking account…

30 Apr 2023 2 Comments

***

Since you’re all so kind, I can’t get anyone here to hold me accountable to reach my goals; therefore, I’ve had to exercise over-the-top discipline in order to avoid making a liar of myself. Those projects I’ve mentioned? I have good news…

You remember my nemesis, the 12′ x 7′ x 14′ high closet lined with shelves on three sides, which has been the repository for a wide assortment of belongings since about 2015 when I started losing mobility… you recall my brave words, right? I’m thrilled to report that it now looks like springtime in that space – a breath of fresh air – and life in general, just like that, holds more promise and feels absolutely doable. It’s like turning on a floodlight in a dark cavern, except that the surroundings revealed are entirely friendly. As I stood back admiring my work yesterday I said a mental “up yours” to the Senior Surgeon who told me there was nothing that could be done about my back, so… I guess just go home and give up, which my brain did without informing me in advance, thus putting life on hold. That haphazardly-packed closet represents the biggest win I can think of in about that many years and I’m savoring it. There’s also this: over a ten-year period I helped empty six longtime homes of loved ones, and I made a solemn vow not to put John through that. It’s an educational, revelatory, emotional, gut-ripping experience, which he’s already done once singlehandedly, so the less Kim and I leave behind, the better. Best-case scenario would be to close things out like saints, with a fork apiece and some clean underwear, but simple living and a love for open spaces will at least keep us moving in that direction.

The biggest win of all is that now, in 2023, the more I move the better I feel. That’s worth sticking around for.

And now I’m ready to focus on something I love even more than re-homing things, which is to finish editing a friend’s manuscript. I’m fairly certain it’s the calling I missed in life, that of helping to fine-tune good writing while consuming it at the same time. Bossy, nitpicking girl loves books, win/win.

A glance up the page affirms that this year has been more about gains than losses, more about the wins in spite of how dark so many days have felt in their endless passage. That’s a good thing to know because of how it colors the rest of life… sometimes the wins are so hard-won we feel beat up by them instead of validated and encouraged. At this late date, I might be finally starting to understand the process through which we come to know and love ourselves. It’s never too late.

Take your innate kindness and human understanding with you all week and spread that stuff all over everything. The world needs it so much.

Image by Judy Smith

Life aboard the Big Blue Marble…

29 Apr 2023 Leave a comment

***

Big doin’s on a sunshiny Saturday. Last weekend a crew descended on our parking lot and ground it to a nubbin. This morning they were back at 7am to rough it up and lay asphalt, which so far is a much quieter process than the first round, and it should look pretty fine by evening. They’ll stripe it again tomorrow and we’ll be off and running for a few more years. A bit of distraction, along with Farmers Market down the block, where there’s been a steady line for the Slow Rise Sourdough Donuts. Their Nutella version just might get me over there next Saturday.

It’s our little corner on this beautiful planet hurtling through space, an incomprehensible thing that we take for granted nearly every second of our lives. I love what astronomer, astrophysicist, cosmologist, astrobiologist, planetary science guy Carl Sagan said…

“Look again at that dot. That’s here. That’s home. That’s us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every ‘superstar,’ every ‘supreme leader,’ every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there — on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.” -Carl Sagan

One of the last known images captured by Japan’s Hakuto-R lander before crashing into the moon shows a stunning ‘Earthrise,’ with the shadow of the moon creeping over Australia during a total solar eclipse. (Image credit: ispace)

In our personal micro-worlds we make much of our hurts and slights, the slings and arrows of identifying as human, but life is both more and less than that. I stole the following from a friend years ago and its truth hasn’t faded in the interim…

Happy spring. Thank you for being here…

Image by Judy Smith

How DID it get so late, anyway?

23 Apr 2023 2 Comments

***

I gave the blog a rest last week, it was time. Full disclosure, my muse is on indefinite vacay in South America and I’m fairly lost on my own. I’ve also been trying to cultivate the shockingly unAmerican habit of declining to speak in the absence of anything to say. Concurrently, I’ve been working my way through seasonal depression and I try to apply extra caution during those times, lest my “mouth” cancel my regular brain activity and add to the load of woe. But hey, it’s spring, it’s time to break out of the trap and feel ALL of life. If you deal with the sadz you know it isn’t so much ABOUT anything, it’s more of a hormonal/chemical shift that imposes a life of its own over how you’d rather feel, and it’s always a relief to emerge into real sunshine again. Sort of like…

In actively working to move the Mood Meter to the plus side, I’ve saved things written by people who know, because somebody else’s experience and affirmation are always encouraging to me. Numero uno…

Having to be phony around other people is what feels genuinely weird to me. Can’t do it anymore.

On the accountability front, I’ve been putting my list of Anxiety Reducers in practice and can report that taken together they’re making a difference. They’re in the post preceding this one if you want to try a few.

Hang on, kids, we’re making a 90-degree turn here because I became aware last night of a pattern in our house, likely one of the biggest tip-offs that we aren’t young anymore. Kim has a sixth sense for picking random movies that we end up totally engaged in, and at some point or several during every film, one of us has to grab an iPad and find out WHO THAT ACTOR IS!! Remember, he was in that movie about, oh you know, and that blonde was in it, too, and… we learn a lot, like who’s still breathing and who isn’t. This morning I learned that this is 84-year-old Lee Majors, remember him? Boy hero, sorta? Wow, is it getting late in here or what.

Or maybe it’s just me since I hold no firm concepts regarding the connections between people and time. It’s all of a piece somehow, and this could just as easily be 1970 as 2023. Absolutely everything has changed, while absolutely everything remains the same.

No worries, I still retain a firm connection to reality… on the good days.

Image by Judy Smith

Sorting fact from fiction…

13 Apr 2023 Leave a comment

***

Tell me if this happens to you sometimes… it’s only 8am and I’m already through with today, what’s up with that? I dipped my toe in the news pool and instantly regretted it. I looked for humor on social media and found snark. I sat here too long and started remembering every stupid regrettable thing I’ve ever said or done, an endless parade of self-accusation, and it’s ridiculous.

Okay, false alarm… turns out I just needed to eat something. And thus am I reminded, again, that we can complicate life beyond all reason just by examining it to death.

We add difficulty to life by expecting it to conform to our plans and hopes, forgetting that it takes no notice of our existence at all. Plans? Hopes? Get real, little human, we’re rolling ON and you’re about to get flattened, better luck next round.

Here’s a thing to know: Returning to life after long absence is anything but seamless. There’s a lot of catching up to do, and you begin to realize how much has changed since your whole world went off the rails. There are days when it’s a lot, and others when I make it a mountain on my own. These are affirmations that are helpful to me:

I will always remember my mother-in-law, when I broached the subject of a move to the nursing home, pointing her finger and declaring adamantly “I need a MAN, RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW!” She knew that if my father-in-law or either of her two sons were still living she would have an advocate, but alas, here was her daughter-in-law of 35 years trying to tell her what to do. I understood her angst then and have experienced it many times for myself because we simply don’t tell life what’s going to happen. We persist in trying, but we eventually register the success rate and back off a little to keep our lack of power from becoming too overwhelming.

I do what I want. Right, life?

Turns out what I want to do today is to start getting a true handle on my closet-cleaning project. So far, there are a dozen empty tubs and containers stacked in a tower to show for my sorting and tossing, and I’m ready to add to that total. Kim found a perfect six-drawer chest that should go far in solving various “Where do I put THIS?” quandaries, thus letting me move forward. A goal. A purpose. My kingdom for a horse…

Yesterday I made a list of Anxiety Reducers which is now taped at the side of my monitor, and if followed it’s bound to help eventually:

Drink far less coffee
MOVE the body
Less alcohol, so, you know, 2 or 3 evening Tequila shots instead of 4
Cut obvious sugar
Cut the clutter, which resides mostly on my desk and in the ever-looming closet
Drink more water
Get outside
Spend a skosh less online time

Could work. Wish me luck. I hope the sun’s shining where you are as full-on as it is here, and I hope your Thursday will be all good stuff.

Image by Judy Smith

Post-Ishtar post…

10 Apr 2023 2 Comments

***

I change my desktop wallpaper the way some people change underwear, which is to say at least once a week. I like interesting, energizing change, while generally hating change I didn’t ask for, and the scenery on my toys is an easy fix for boredom and ennui… sometimes. So there’s that.

Easter weekend was quiet here and was also the first Saturday for Farmers’ Market this spring. They always set up a half-block south of us and it was packed over there. I love to see it… the early-morning chatter below our windows, kids running ahead of parents, lots of happy interaction. It’s been going on every year since we moved here, spring through fall, and the stability represents something important to me.

We’ve all been living in a stop-and-start world for enough years now that some of us are almost getting used to the periodic upheaval. I’m in favor of flexibility and adjustment to circumstances, but there are things in life we can’t quietly acquiesce to and tell ourselves to “keep moving, nothing to see here.” The last five years before my spinal surgery in 2021 were almost a write-off, with me spending more than 99% of my time within these walls, so coming out of that I’ve been gung-ho to do a few things to celebrate and respect being able to get around on my own. My timing may be a little off… sometimes you get there too early or just a hair too late, dang the luck… but I’m used to two steps forward followed by one in reverse, so I know the drill. Life has the power to be deadly discouraging, but I hope all the lessons it’s taught me will prove helpful at some point in the imagined future. That would be super cool. I mean, I know the foregoing sounds obscure, but how much patience does an old crone like me really need? A hell of a lot as it turns out. Same with acceptance, serenity, and a lack of dependence on the outside world in general. Life does what it will and we mostly follow like lemmings because we aren’t particularly quick studies in that sense, and whaddaya gonna do? Full disclosure: What we’re gonna do is behave and do what LIFE says, because she’s in charge. (I pledged long ago to tell you the truth in all things.)

In my ongoing quest to learn something new every day that I can take with me, I’m liking this simple graphic. Seems helpful:

Also this one, which reminds me there are lots of ways to be proactive:

I plead guilty on fully half of these, so okay, challenge accepted.

Every day of my life so far has been a result of the positive outweighing the negative, and so has yours or you wouldn’t be here. It’s okay to keep believing that things will get better, because they do tend in that direction.

Case in point:

Image by Judy Smith

Still springing…

06 Apr 2023 Leave a comment

***

As usual, fickle spring can’t make up her mind, and she will have it her way regardless. It looks perfectly lovely outside but when I opened the balcony door after sunrise, I was instantly made aware of the real-feel temp. Doesn’t matter, it’s just weather and we haven’t a particle of power to change it day to day, which would be easier to take if we had even a smidgen of influence on the rest of life. It’s part of my job to warn you that the aging process inevitably brings loss in most every direction, and far sooner than we’re led to believe: loss of influence, loss of credibility, of independence, of energy, strength, and power, among other attributes we formerly took for granted. Sooner than we could possibly anticipate, we start to sense that we’re next-in-line for increased outside input concerning our well-being and security. Lord, I was just there with six older family members! Facts say it’s been more than twenty years since I played the caregiver role, but in my economy it was only yesterday… and although we’re not there yet, I can feel it creeping up to scope us out. Oh, the places we’ll go, the realizations we’ll make along the way. Life is… weird. And a little anticlimactic. Is this all there is? Send in the clowns…

In retrospect, 2022 was a daunting challenge every day, and 2023 isn’t proving to be very inventive on its own because it’s more of the same. A person could worry.

Nevertheless, we press on…

I know this much is true:

We’re all pedaling as fast as we can.
As soon as we know better, we try to do better.

My old-lady gripe is that life moves a pinch too fast from womb to tomb. It never slows for us, and by the time we figure a couple of things out we’re, as my grandma said, “too soon old, too late shmart.” Pisses me off, that sense of powerlessness. But as a Teutonic realist, I see the dilemma for what it is… life’s current and coming challenge is to hang in and get better because the alternative creates even more righteous rage within. And silent rage is treacherous because it’s a gateway drug to depression, which is the opposite of living. We don’t wanna go there.

Image by Judy Smith

Time to ante up…

31 Mar 2023 3 Comments

***

Last day of March, boys and girls, and the Bradford Pear and Red Maple trees in our neighborhood are blooming and leafing and already showing off because they can. When Kim walked Mass Street this morning before sunup it was a balmy 65° and humid, so maybe spring’s sticking around a while this time. Hope so, I’m overdue for the attitude adjustment and everyone will benefit. Ready for the early mornings when you can pull on a minimum of clothing, lace up your Tevas, and get outside. Hmm. Guess this morning would have been one of those, huh. Oh well, my dance card is already punched twice for this 24-hour segment, so we’re good. Nice, though, to feel the friendly air that smells like rain.

WARNING: 90-degree left turn…

Do you have sensory input/overload issues? Have you ever tried to explain what that’s like to someone who cruises through life as if they own it? How’d that go for ya’? It makes me think of the game Ransom Notes, wherein players have to describe a given situation in abbreviated form. Clear as mud? My version would go something like this:

Assignment: DESCRIBE SENSORY OVERLOAD AND ITS ATTENDANT FEELINGS TO A NOVICE

Ransom Note:

ROAR

PIERCES

PORES AND ORIFICES

MAKES BRAIN CELLS WEEP

Anxiety and excess sensory input are ever-present, as you’re well aware if you aren’t immune to such. And nobody outside it can feel it. Most people march entirely to their own drummer so they can’t imagine, for instance, what it’s like to hear and register every sound equally and be unable to instantly sort, assign, and selectively dampen the individual input in order to translate on the fly, keep sweet and quiet, and deal. All day, every day, until the hearing aids can be put to bed and the lights go out, the brain gets to rest (except for dreams, but that’s another day), and the tension drains from the body’s cells overnight. Being able to hear isn’t a bad thing, in fact it’s crucial, but when you add all the other input a day holds, keeping it together can get dicey, a big muddy mess. There’s interaction with other people, weather, the abominable state of human existence in general, the ouchies of age, and being hangry, among an endless list of possible angst generators.

People with raging anxiety are ridiculous and we know it, but the harder we try to stay quiet and peaceful on the inside the worse it gets. Like… any day that contains an appointment outside the house (or ONLINE, for lort’s sake!) guarantees that I won’t forget it for a second until it’s over. Okay, it’s how many hours away? So that means I have time for… well, no, don’t want to start that NOW, I’m too distracted by these never-ending deadlines. If the appointment is for a pedi or massage, that means I have to leave enough time to shave my legs, and shampooing this silver thicket on top of my head takes another three minutes. And SO MUCH PEEING, ALL DAY, OMIGOD!! All of that, hour after hour, within the brain of a lifetime perfectionist who has likely never once actually gotten it right, isn’t that the shits? Ransom notes indeed… somebody should rescue me from myself before time’s up, maybe.

Anxiety feels mostly like fear of loss… loss of security, safety, competence, choice, independence, respect, love, credibility, control, connection, relationship, anything and everything we value. And bless the people who question none of it, live life on their terms, and go on winning. We hope they know how lucky they are, amirite?

I know this much is true…

For the perpetually anxious, peace is all that matters finally.

And because I always like to leave us smiling, if possible…

Image by Judy Smith

Just another manic Monday…

27 Mar 2023 Leave a comment

***

For the past few years, most days have seemed at least 36 hours long, with more blank-feeling time than I knew what to do with. In my new gung-ho “let’s do ALL the things” mode, I signed up for two KU classes and whatever daily system I had left is already shot to hell. That’s okay, it’s not yet obvious to the naked eye so we’ll survive, and I was getting pretty tired of all that perfection anyway. Oh, I laugh.

This afternoon will be the second of my three “Invitation to Poetry” classes, and it’s gratifying to realize how much I’m looking forward to it. Tomorrow morning will be more Kansas history, and maybe one day this week I’ll have the energy to clear a wider path in our big Everything closet. I’ve managed to create enough chaos in that space, I either need to finish it ASAP or just call “College Hunks Hauling Junk” and make a clean break.

Moral support helps everybody, the more the better, and by reaching out you just might save a life.

Not every source of support proves to be this trustworthy… but never stop be-leafing.

… even when bitterly disappointed by the discoveries you make along the way.

However distracted we might be, we can’t afford to lose sight of what matters:

Have an astounding and properly-astounded Monday!

Image by Judy Smith

Hello Friday…

17 Mar 2023 1 Comment

***

Fridays will always hold a special place in my heart because they signal the arrival of Saturday and Sunday, the two days when I do even less than on the other five but suffer zero guilt for it. Over a lifetime I earned my weekends, and once they’re yours, they’re yours, so I squander them freely whenever possible.

This morning dawned bright and sunny, despite the fact that we had a mini-blizzard overnight. Precisely as the KU v Howard bball game tipped off, while it was still daylight and 58° outside, the air became filled with sideways snow. Slightly bizarre, but so very Kansas. Most of it made it to Amarillo by morning, but the grassy areas are still white, melting fast.

A Happy St. Paddy’s Day to one and all, says the girl in the lime(rick) green T-shirt bearing the word “sláinte” and a shamrock, gifted to her by her baby sister. Life is good, right here, right now. Celebrate and enjoy!

St. Patrick’s Day strikes me as an ideal occasion for bravery and self-certainty, because how else have the Irish survived? I’m proud and happy to claim a dose of emerald DNA from my mom’s dad… that heritage and my German stoicism have brought me this far and I trust will not fail me at this late date.

A complete poem in one sentence, and can we not all say the same in total honesty? It’s what’s meant by the solitariness of being human and it seems to be largely unavoidable.

Another precisely-stated bit of poetry:

Speaking from personal experience, never mistake small stature and a quiet demeanor for weakness or ignorance, otherwise, in the wise words of our ancestors, the road will eventually rise up to meet your face. That’s what all the little leprechauns want you to have as your takeaway today, don’t disappoint them. And easy on the green beer.

An appropriate slice of melancholy before I let you go enjoy your day and your weekend:

Image by Judy Smith

Freeing up head space…

13 Mar 2023 2 Comments

***

Feels like it’s time for a chummy conversation about what’s real… authentic, legitimate, valid… in the human realm. We spend so many brain cells and waste so many minutes either overthinking everything or actively ignoring obvious truths, we’d do ourselves a service by occasionally lifting the lid and airing out the ductwork. As a writer friend counseled me last week, “Let it out.” Sometimes we get so tied in knots by life, it’s tricky but crucial to get loose to the point of really seeing ourselves again.

Female types the world over, except those who didn’t hear about it, held a celebration last week on Wednesday. We were allotted an entire day to remember and honor women, those incomprehensible creatures without whom the planet can’t survive. An International Women’s Day, think of it. It’s a reminder to stand where no one else will, and to reject the load of “NO” that was assigned to us somewhere along the line.

In order to be honest women, there are things that can’t be of prime importance to us. The same holds true for honest men, but we’ll talk about that on International Men’s Day. What’s that, you didn’t know? It is indeed a designated observance, but no organized celebrations issue forth from it, probably because it would look like unseemly overkill, but that’s just me. Whether you’re an acknowledged feminist or an incel, anyone who’s lived female-adjacent knows the world keeps a LIST, with which it stamps a big CANCELED across a lot of otherwise happy celebrations and personal objectives.

To which I say SCREW THAT and I’m thankful to be with a man who feeds all of me.

We know that we are neither made nor broken by the things that happen to us, but rather by our response to each of those events; thus, there’s a truth in there that has to be looked in the eye: Sometimes the worst things that happen outside our control also come bearing gifts AND STAY WITH ME BECAUSE THAT SOUNDS LIKE BLASPHEMY. I’m no longer an “Everything happens for a reason” kinda girl, and I can’t suspend disbelief long enough to be thankful for bad, awful, heartbreaking things, please know that. Despite overwhelming odds, however, I’m still a Pollyanna who looks for a discarded pack of bar matches in every dark alley, and there’s usually a dry one left somewhere. Our most devastating and challenging times can contain hope if we keep our hearts open. They have the capacity to uncover ugliness we need to be aware of, in ourselves or other people. Bad times can reveal where change is long overdue, and sometimes provide the impetus to make those changes. We can’t be part of solving problems we don’t know about, so a little awareness in confusing times goes a long way. I could go on, but you know there are other ways of turning unfortunate circumstances to your good.

A quiet thanks this morning to the men we live with, love, care for, befriend, exist among, for understanding as much as they can, and for wanting to even more.

That’s a lot to celebrate, I don’t care who you are.

Image by Judy Smith

OMG, look at the time!

11 Mar 2023 Leave a comment

***

We’re nine days from spring and the rain we need for the greening of NE Kansas has been showing up. So sweet and benign, all the soft water from the sky, and we hope it stays this friendly since Kansas weather is nothing if not unpredictable.

Of course, tonight’s the big night… it’s time to spring forward an entire hour and spend the rest of the year searching for that lost jigger of salt. Don’t forget.

The lost hour symbolizes every trauma, whether infinitesimal or overwhelming, we’ve sustained over the past however-many years now. We’ve lived through scary illnesses that had to be handled on our own because PANDEMIC. We lived through said pandemic… so far. We’ve survived cockamamie politics; over-the-top injustice; incomprehensible cruelty; the abject hatred of our fellow man; and every other thing that’s part of the human experience. Here we stand, damaged, wounded, but ever hopeful for better days. We’re pitiful but we’re all we’ve got, boys and girls, so hold hands and keep taking new territory. Trauma’s most powerful enemy is truth – use it at every opportunity.

Speaking of trauma… my new friend Erica and I worked on rooting out some more of it yesterday in my second hour-long massage. Her amazing hands know where pain lurks and she’s fairly merciless already… hurts so good, can’t wait to go back.

Small psychic traumas are gradually resolving as well, including a sense of rootlessness and lack of purpose. At some point after the lifelong nerve pain disappeared, my brain started working on the problem of “Okay, who am I NOW? I can finally do pretty much what I want… what’s that going to look like?” After a few months’ rumination on that question, it came to me one day not long ago that at 75 I don’t have to go out and reinvent myself in order to pay my dues as a resident of the planet. I already HAVE a life, here in this smallish space, that requires my involvement and TLC, and could take up most of my time if I wanted it to. This is good. I’m home. Having said that, I’ll be branching out a teensy bit in a couple of weeks, so stay tuned.

Everything that happens to us feels like such a big deal at the time because we’re hothouse flowers with intense feelings, so it takes time and perspective for our personal traumas to start turning loose of us. Sometimes we like them too much, which complicates the whole thing. Those hurts and slights and terrifying wounds tend to validate our existence, so they feel like our buddies rather than the thoughts and memories that will eventually paralyze us and shorten our lucid days.

I take Sir Winston to heart…

“This is the lesson: never give in, never give in, never, never, never—in nothing, great or small, large or petty—never give in except to convictions of honor and good sense. Never yield to force; never yield to the apparently overwhelming might of the enemy.” (whomever/whatever you perceive that enemy to be)

Above all, never lose sight of this befuddled truth, brought to you by the Society for the Proliferation of Crap Platitudes.

Image by Judy Smith

Rain, rain, love you, mean it…

08 Mar 2023 4 Comments

***

It’s a Day in the Doldrums, silent outside, fog hanging in the trees, everything a little drippy and chill. This is the kind of day that lifts me right out of the muck because its expectations are clearly bottom-basement, causing me to feel no pressure to meet anybody’s standards but my own. So, inspiration having been recognized, we’ll see how it all plays out today. As a precautionary measure, a hint to any and all who wander into my space:

Simple perfection, is that too much to ask?

As the planet continues to be a cockamamie place to live, my intention every day, after that first savory taste of coffee, is to de-stress in all the ways open to me. To allot the first hours of the day to positive thoughts and a mental list of “foment progress” bullet points. To let the day’s headlines, good, bad, or ridiculous, stew in their own juices for a few hours before trying to sort truth from fiction. There are a lot of big stories I’ll probably never read or absorb in any detail… the Murdaugh murders, the Iowa campus killer, the Theranos thing, countless others… because it’s a lot of stuff I don’t need to know about. It’s extraneous angst… it isn’t that I don’t care, I care too much about things I have no power over. At some point we have to be afforded the means to bring about change, or else bury the compulsion and stop looking at it. These days I opt for peace in most situations, perhaps more than my share, because the “pick your battles” admonition means nothing to a feeler… they’re ALL ours, unless we turn them over to someone better equipped to win. You can’t win ’em all, and that’s a lesson straight from life.

For old and young alike, the world just IS a crazy place… unpredictable, unfriendly, uncontrollable… and the inherent frustrations are very efficient at producing anger, the monster that destroys us. Anger is self-feeding because it draws from an endless array of sources and is a master of disguises. Sometimes we think the heaviness of anger in our spirit is depression, but no, not yet, it’s still a simmering cauldron and needs to be dealt with STAT. Very destructive, that simmering rage… soothe it with honesty, love, and understanding, ASAP.

A big challenge as the years and experiences accumulate, is that of keeping our hearts soft in the face of an uncaring environment. Feelers rack up every event until we’re full of shards on the inside and sheathed in tungsten on the outside. Fortunately, life marches through on the regular and plows everything up for us, no crustiness allowed, get back in the game, keep that heart tender in spite of the odds, and insist on being your own weird self every damn day, including this one.

I only share these things with you because they’re vitally important and it’s taking me a lifetime to learn them. The simplest facts about being human are the hardest to master, so hints are good, right? I share stream-of-consciousness because I know there are other people out there… and some of you are dear friends… who experience all of life on a personal first-hand feel-everything basis and don’t always know what to do with that… just like me. It’s a colossally lonely feeling, so maybe we should stick together… you know, inasmuch as angsty introverts are capable of doing. I know you’re there… I feel your heart.

Image by Judy Smith

Feeling the love…

06 Mar 2023 8 Comments

***

For humans who feel everything, every tiniest thing, there are days on end too dark for words. And then the sun breaks out again and some of those humans feel a little sheepish about all the inner angst. Oh well. That’s just how it is, and hello sunshine. I’ll play nice if you will, world.

Things you learn along the way:

Staying childlike, that’s the trick…

I rolled up on this during my coffee reflections this morning, and felt it deep. Just one would lend legitimacy to this steady stream-of-consciousness…

Image by Judy Smith

A random Thursday…

02 Mar 2023 2 Comments

***

A weekend state of mind settles down upon #lfk by 5pm on any given Thursday, providing a quasi-4-day chunk of R&R out of every seven. Something about bars, restaurants, sports, and living in a university town guarantees this laid-back state of mind and I take to it like a duck to water, if mostly as an observer.

It’s a happy week here, with our Jayhawk boys winning the basketball conference title for the 20th time in the league’s 24-year existence. Their statistics are off the charts this season, and it’s beyond fun to live in the midst of the celebration. FACT: Winning feels better than losing. My love of well-played sports puts a little wedge between me and a few of my friends, who find it at odds with my core pacifism, but there will be no justifications forthcoming – I’m that girl, and other people’s thoughts are none of my business.

Also this. Says the same thing as above, and covers all bases.

Speaking of bras, I’m pretty sure Oklahoma just banned Dolly Parton:

That’s your semi-regular load of random, boys and girls, do with it what you will, and make good stuff out of the weekend. Try to fare better than the Peeps – in which the key is “Don’t Be Fake.”

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Arguing with the sun…

28 Feb 2023 8 Comments

***

It’s morning and the sun’s already climbing the sky, a situation that happens with alarming regularity, so it’s time to coffee up and deal. Some, not knowing better, might consider me the ultimate morning snob, as I strive to speak with no one before their time. Feels best to open my eyes in the semi-dark, consider seriously whether or not to stick a foot out yet, and spend the next couple of hours communing with Kim’s coffee and my own random brain waves, blithely referred to as The Muses. He goes away mid-morning to work out his existence within the parameters of PickleBall and comes home to either visible progress here while he was out, or invisible brain activity yielding no concrete evidence of any sort. No worries… he plays, I play, and we keep the News of the World out of our ears, damped to a slow burn. Some days there are spa soaks, and eventually lunch shows up, Kim having either made or brought it, which is what cooks do… it’s so cool. Afternoons often see a flurry of housework and errands, and evenings are couched in tequila shots, so it’s just all good, and the Life Police haven’t knocked on our door to let us know we’re doing it wrong.

Not really unsociable, not a recluse yet, I simply like having time to savor the best life offers me…

A thing the years have taught me is that every time I stick my neck out, somebody loops a lariat around it and leads me to a watering hole somewhere I hadn’t planned to go. Never look thirsty, is a rule I like. Otherwise you end up doing THIS:

Trying the road less traveled these days…

Because some things are indisputable.

Look at us, getting all healthy and stuff. Wow.

Image by Judy Smith

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