Graphics that Grab Me | Playing for Time

Life aboard the Big Blue Marble…

29 Jun 2023 1 Comment

***

In a hyper-conscious moment here and there as we trek through our days, we might happen to remember that we’re on a large intricate rock hurtling through space. But it’s mostly an incomprehensible thing that we take for granted nearly every second of our lives, so 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 light of the facts…

Simply an observation agreed with.

We live in a world where unimaginable things happen, are quickly dispensed with, and are rarely spoken of again. A significant for-instance:

The daily shootings, immigrants drowning by the boatload, concerted efforts globally to stamp out any and all differences — racially, sexually, politically, philosophically, artistically, or in terms of values and relationships, ALL difference, as it presents itself. The whack-a-mole approach to control.

Thus, for all the reasons…

And we think it’s our fault somehow, which only tends to illuminate the fact that we’ve been trained to see ourselves as a super-race, immune to death and failure. What I know after the dust has settled is this:

If calm hasn’t traditionally been your first response to life, it feels magical when it comes to you.

We could all likely benefit from supporting Teri in her pursuit of self-fulfillment…

Your beverage of choice, but fight.

Image by Judy Smith

The gifts of summer…

23 Jun 2023 Leave a comment

***

Summer Solstice… missed it right by. So it happened without me, as most of life does, and we’re swimming in summer vibes now, even though it all looks the same from my windows. I’m finishing a big project for a friend this weekend along with a few other things, and then the assignment will be to screw my head on straight for a while. Time to reestablish the routine where I get up and do the things, including a daily stroll without excuses, so I can fall asleep at night feeling okay about myself.

Anyway, hi summer, glad you made it. Someone asked me the other day about my plans for the fall and it took me a minute to realize they were talking about October, not the collapse of society. Sigh… it’s an old joke by now.

I hope you feel free as a bird this summer, with plans you can take or leave as the mood dictates. Things are copacetic here, notwithstanding the ridiculous perpetual angst of the person writing. Sweet thing yesterday… I went out on the balcony to check on Kim’s strawberries, bent over, scrabbled around in the planter throwing out dry leaves and other detritus, and when I straightened up I was eye to eye with Mr. David Dove, who neither blinked nor flinched. Not a feather moved, in fact he seemed quite relaxed and happy to be right where he was. He wasn’t there when I stepped out, so he had to have purposely landed precisely in front of me, and I swear he was smiling softly. I had a quiet convo with him, telling him again how happy we are to have him and Darleen and their little broods camping with us. When I came back inside, he hopped over to the nest, switched places with Dar, settled in, and looked snoozy immediately. It feels… sacred… to be adopted by a small creature who senses I could harm it, but chooses trust over fear.

It’s pretty cozy in there.

Since childhood I’ve heard all sorts of things about what it means when you start talking to yourself. I’ll tell you what it means – it means nobody else is around at the moment to talk to. I didn’t used to like myself very much, but since getting to know me a little better, I’m really enjoying the friendly banter that goes on here, plus I give great advice. And take this with a grain of salt because I don’t know what I’m talking about, but word on the street is that knowledgeable conversation with yourself means you’re going sane instead of crazy. Think about THAT.

So yeah, making those lists, checking them twice, and we’ll see what happens.

And this, in ways known only to me, is related:

My Christmas wish for me and everyone I know.

I like it when you’re smiling, so here’s a little gem from the week. The woman who bought my farm was a District Judge, now Chief Judge, and one day about ten years ago while she was in court her niece played secretary in her office. The judge returned to find this… and I assume other treasures.

Forecast for the next few days is hot and sunny. Enjoy!

Image by Judy Smith

Good thing wrinkles don’t hurt…

20 Jun 2023 1 Comment

***

Good morning. Remember my childlike boasts about how much I love getting older? Of course you do. You said at the time, “Who does she think she’s kidding?” There are days when I do sort of hate it, but not as much as I despise the idea of being dead, so when I meet a compadre on the road from here to there, it means everything. I’m letting that fellow pilgrim speak for me this morning:

The other day, a young person asked me: – “What does it feel like to be old?”

I was very surprised by the question, since I did not consider myself old. When he saw my reaction, he was immediately embarrassed, but I explained that it was an interesting question. And after reflection, I concluded that getting old is a gift.

Sometimes I am surprised at the person who lives in my mirror. But I don’t worry about those things for long. I wouldn’t trade everything I have for a few less gray hairs and a flat stomach. I don’t scold myself for not making the bed, or for eating a few extra “little things.” I am within my rights to be a little messy, to be extravagant, and to spend hours staring at my flowers.

I have seen some dear friends leave this world before they had enjoyed the freedom that comes with growing old.

Who cares if I choose to read or play on the computer until 4 in the morning and then sleep until who knows what time?

I will dance with me to the rhythm of the 50’s and 60’s. And if later I want to cry for some lost love… I will!

I’ll walk down the beach in a swimsuit that stretches over my plump body and dive into the waves, letting myself go, despite the pitying looks of the bikini-wearers. They’ll get old too, if they’re lucky…

It is true that through the years my heart has ached for the loss of a loved one, for the pain of a child, or for seeing a pet die. But it is suffering that gives us strength and makes us grow. An unbroken heart is sterile and will never know the happiness of being imperfect.

I am proud to have lived long enough for my hair to turn gray and to retain the smile of my youth before the deep furrows appeared on my face.

Now, to answer the question honestly, I can say: -I like being old, because old age makes me wiser, freer!

I know I’m not going to live forever, but while I’m here I’m going to live by my own laws, those of my heart.

I’m not going to regret what wasn’t, nor worry about what will be.

In the time that remains, I will simply love life as I did until today, the rest I leave to God.

Dame Judy Dench

***

Image by Judy Smith

Hitting the pause button…

16 Jun 2023 Leave a comment

***

All week I had the dumb and couldn’t brain, so I took a No-Brainer Day yesterday to reset. Went for a walk around the neighborhood, slept for four hours, then spent the remainder of the day doing mindless things on my computer, by which I mean I cleaned out both of my Messenger apps click by click because I couldn’t force “select all” to function. I was horrified to find in iMessenger that everything sent or received since 2012 was still there! How do these things happen?? Welp, somebody goes mentally AWOL for five or ten years while pain runs the show and it all stacks up, the evidence doesn’t lie. I was born with a Siamese twin named Anxiety so she’s never not been attached to me. An ordered existence goes far in keeping her quiet, but she could tear up an anvil in a heartbeat if I didn’t watch her, so she has to be considered in every equation. She was feeling much better by bedtime last night.

So an intentional Get Yourself Better Day turned out to be exactly what the doctor ordered: the brain fog lifted, the thinking processes lined up straighter, and a probable answer broke through. Pretty sure my anti-seizure Rx was working overtime, rendering me near-comatose since sleepiness is a side effect if the drug doesn’t have enough to do. BINGO. I cut yesterday’s doses in half and felt the difference within hours. So. ONWARD. The good news is that the focal seizures have been very much under control lately, so no worries.

My secret plan is to go underground for the weekend and show up Monday morning ready to function as a human. Stay tuned.

Meanwhile, a few topical memes on our way to doing Friday right, starting with today’s PRIDE MONTH post:

Topic of the week (read century). Leaving this here for posterity’s sake.

And this last one is for all the feelers who water the earth with our tears and drive the macho-macho-race mad with frustration. I encounter something to cry about at every turn in the day so sometimes I try to get that over with first thing in the morning. Just have a good cry about EVERYTHING and EVERYBODY and proceed, Guv’nah. Then later, when touching or infuriating things pop up, I can say “Nope, gave at the office, already cried my quota for the day, c’mon inner peace.” Believe it or not, I am kicking the snot out of it… it actually works. Sometimes.

Why we cry.

It seems happy little Pollyanna’s work here is done for now, so it’s time to toddle off and scrounge up something more nourishing than coffee before I get on with doing as little as possible. You know what feels good and right on a Friday or any other day ending in “y”? Self-care without guilt. Don’t wait ’til you’re past 75 to try it.

Live your story. Right now.

Image by Judy Smith

Watch yourself, it’s HumpDay…

14 Jun 2023 2 Comments

***

A glorious June morning is underway, full of promise if you’re here for it. My self-assigned mission today is two-fold: reading and writing. Reading for fun and profit, interspersed with terrifying moments of writing for angst and amnesty. BOWLING FOR AMNESTY! She has a working title, boys and girls… and, we’re ROLLING!

At more than three-quarters of a century into this preposterous human experiment, I should be able to state one thing with certainty, and it turns out I can: This whole thing is insane. We emerge as the most helpless of creatures on earth, claw our way toward adulthood, gain awareness of our frightening awareness, and scream our way to the grave, because… insanity. I ask you, is there more fun to be had anywhere? We’ll never know.

There are things we CAN know, however, and do. For instance, I know the following to be true:

I read the entire poem knowing I recognized that voice, and when I saw Mary Oliver’s name at the bottom I burst into tears of joy over unexpectedly meeting up with an old friend out here in the wilderness. We crazies find each other, in this life or the next.

The world has never felt more tenuous… more divided… less inclusive. So we must each do our part to counteract that state:

Wherever you are as you read this, STOP. Sit very still and let yourself relax from your toenails up. If you’re blessed with quiet right now, relax every cell all the way to the top of your head. Breathe. It feels really good, so do it some more. While you’re letting it all go, have a soft little conversation with yourself: You didn’t make the world the way it is. This brokenness is not your fault. Breathe in. Accept the good and the right and the real. You know how to be kind. Do that. Breathe out. Reject the existential pain that permeates everything now. Let it go. One individual human heart can’t contain what’s out there, so we have to simply lay it down and accept that being here for it is enough. And when we feel somewhat healed and therefore brave… we bear witness.

Image by Judy Smith

Putting the pro in procrastinate…

12 Jun 2023 Leave a comment

***

Experience has taught me that I do my best writing when I’m supposed to be doing something else, so here I am, saying good morning, and thanking you for your help in keeping this a safe place for all of us. It’s funny to realize that even after almost fifteen years out of touch with the working world… can that be?? … Mondays are still Mondays. It’s the day I’ll apparently always wake up and say “Couldn’t we do that tomorrow?”

A bit of news… the Doves, David and Darleen, are once again enjoying a peaceful incubation interlude in their leafy bower. Two perfect-looking eggs, two new babies to fledge. And then what, I wonder. Google isn’t very forthcoming as to what adult mourning doves do until another spring rolls around, but it can likely be summed up in one word, “survive.” Which segues us right back to Monday…

… the perfect day for this question:

Self-assigned task today, pick a shower and take it:

They misspelled “surprised,” so you see my point, I’m sure. Point, blade, knife…

Guess we could try this for starters on a Monday, ‘k world?

P.S…

Image by Judy Smith

Slow-walking it to summer…

09 Jun 2023 2 Comments

***

So far it’s been a slow month in “paradise” and that’s lovely. The morning temperature was perfect during my stroll and nothing hurt, so I’m two for three at this point.

I remember 40. It was just a hint of how shockingly life and death can deal with us. No worries, walk it off.

And so did you. Celebrate!

June is PRIDE Month, and with friends and family on every part of the LGBTQ spectrum I’d be an unfeeling idiot not to state my support.

Every LGBTQ human feels all of this and more, every day of their lives.

This will feel like a 90° tire-screeching left-hand turn but it’s relevant, so keep your arms inside the vehicle at all times and do not attempt to disembark until the ride comes to a complete stop:

Abject confession, I have been this person.

DISCLAIMER: I’ve never made friends easily and can think of only a few people with whom I’ve felt a true bond, but I attract the needy like flies to honey. Something about that equation makes people want to challenge me in order to back me down on what my personal moral code looks like, and I’ve had to not only unfriend them but block them, because they don’t give up. This is relevant because longtime acquaintances I once thought of as friends have felt compelled to convince me of the errors in my thinking, trying to wear me to a nubbin on the “gay” conversation, among others. Let me just say for the record that persistence does not equal veracity and I won’t be tuning in to the gaslighting and shaming. Ever.

Image by Judy Smith

Walk it off…

08 Jun 2023 2 Comments

***

It’s 9:30am and whatever else happens on this Thursday in June, my day is already complete because I went for a walk. Third morning in a row, a block further each time, go me. Everything else this week is gravy because the walking is my only solid commitment. Next week we’ll add things like projects, writing, and interacting with the world and see how that goes.

In the ongoing quiet it’s been all about the thinking this week here in my ivory tower, not always a positive trend. I appreciate when someone says with a meme what I haven’t managed to suss out in hours at the keyboard, so here’s a little batch of truth I’ve gathered for us over the past couple of weeks:

It starts here, and if you know, you know…

Sucks to be a witch.

And leads here…

And disappoint you will, because feelers can’t follow the rulz.

Here’s a clue for when you find yourself wondering WTF…

Don’t be a patsy to their mindset.

We all fall prey at some point, so fix it and go on.

Events this week have demonstrated that chaos is loose in the world in ways we’ve never witnessed until now. It’s a challenge to stay positive and to believe that it will all get better, if never the same again. It would be a grace not to care, not to have a stake in any of it, not to cry over the brokenness everywhere. However…

It’s Thursday, which in #lfk starts the weekend. Finish strong and never let the misbegotten wear you down.

Image by Judy Smith

Summertime, and the livin’ is…

05 Jun 2023 Leave a comment

***

Summer is still officially fifteen days away, but evidence shows that it’s already in town for early rehearsals, with days in the 80s and 90s and a possible rain break in the mix. The good news for solitary me is that my calendar between now and July holds not a single appointment thus far. Visually that looks like a gift, a solid block of peace. What will I do with all that time… clean, organize, write, walk, go hug my sister, read, all of the above? Yes, and beyond that we’ll see, won’t we.

Last week was a slow one in some ways, but life is never not happening. I kicked a couple of things to the curb, thus improving my general outlook, and got through the days with a minimum of drama, always a good thing. In the course of all that, I saved a few graphics for you, beginning with the theatre aspect.

If you’re pretending to be happy, let’s talk.

I know I’ve lately bemoaned facts of life, such as truth v fiction, life v death, family v loneliness, but the following is factual as well:

Time and health are of the essence.

One’s energy can be better utilized on things that matter.

A bit of happy news saved for last: We won the lottery — the Doves opted to remain in our balcony complex, but in a nicer, larger, safer condo. Despite all odds, they’ve chosen to raise their second brood adjacent to the daily Smith goings-on, and their quiet trust couldn’t feel sweeter. Having closely observed the advent of brood #1, noting every nuance, we’re old hands as grandparents now. Dave and Dar have proven themselves to be stellar parents. They’ve got this and we simply feel privileged to have seats in the orchestra pit while the play unfolds. It all leads precisely to this thought:

Sounds simple, possibly even innate, but it takes a lifetime.

Image by Judy Smith

Can you take another bird story?

01 Jun 2023 2 Comments

***

Once again nature has proven to us that Google notwithstanding, we know nothing. We read up on the facts while we prepared to be doting grandparents, only to find that isn’t how things really work in DoveLand. They know what they’re doing, it’s all written into their DNA, and our sporadic observation of their habits does not reveal to us the secrets. We’d hoped to see the chicks’ first flights, but David and Darleen very efficiently wrapped up the training course, possibly under cover of darkness, and the kids are gone, just like that. Yesterday morning when I went spying, Derek and Diane had moved to the east edge of the balcony, still under the ferns but positioned for escape, and their bright eyes and shiny feathers, freed from all the downy fluff, told me they were ready. When I saw this morning that the nest was empty it was no surprise, but a bit of melancholy set in since they left without saying goodbye.

Not to worry, Dave and Dar are already giddily at work on a new nest in the other planter where the ferns are thicker and taller, thus providing greater comfort and security than did their starter home. We hope this will become a tradition, so next spring’s plantings will be timed to encourage exactly that.

Having birds on the balcony, as opposed to bats in the belfry, is teaching me a few sweet lessons while plowing up my heart a little, as is required from time to time. Maybe the best reminder has been that life goes on, so go WITH it. Thank you, David, Darleen, and progeny for your patience and presence.

After being angels for weeks, today’s Mickey D’s run will be just what the doctor ordered. Love happens in every flavor, especially cheese and chocolate.

It’s Thursday, and you know what that means… HOW IS THE WEEKEND HERE AGAIN ALREADY??? Bizarre, but enjoy every minute of it.

Image by Judy Smith

Tales of rain, sunshine and life…

31 May 2023 Leave a comment

***

Thunderstorms have been moving through on the regular, whether they’re in the forecast or not, and we’re metaphorically soaking up every drop because soon enough our days will follow THIS pattern:

After that, rain’s supposed to move in again, so I’m thinking the Dove family will be getting their affairs fully in order in the coming week. The rains have no doubt delayed flight training to some extent, but we see little chicky-heads bobbing around in the nest, and small wings stretching to the limit, so preparations are underway. I turned around and snapped this shot of David and Darleen yesterday while they were talking about the babies, the day’s agenda, and no doubt their undying love for one another. Pretty sure I heard him murmur, “Time to kick these kids out and reclaim our bed, schweetheart.”

And that’s life, the cycle goes on. Speaking of which, sorting boxes and bins held over from previous eras can be hazardous to your mental health. In emptying six households belonging to loved ones, I’ve come across a few items that have creeped me out, one of which is old driver’s licenses. There’s something about that stark moment set in the amber of time. I always want to let go of it NOW and not look at it again. That is NOT the person I knew and loved, but there they are, captured forever at their near-worst for all to see. During my recent closet purge I found one of MY old licenses, thus the evidence of trauma you may be sensing as you read. I sliced it right through the numbers, cut the strangely-hued awful portrait into Xs, and buried it. There. Not that girl anymore, moving on.

Please enjoy a luscious day.

Image by Judy Smith

Oh, how I love answers…

27 May 2023 Leave a comment

***

Second item on my list after getting out of bed this morning was to check on the Dove family, and I had a prescient little sense that something would be different this time. My first look at the nest told me there wasn’t a parent bird in attendance, and when I peeked inside there were two little chicks, wing by wing, looking up at me totally unspooked by my presence. Kim got home from his walk in time to see the babies, and he pointed out that David and Darleen were on the next-door neighbors’ balcony railing, quietly keeping watch. Must be time for the little ones to start gaining a bit of bravado and independence – they’re in the nest for only two weeks before being booted out to make way for Round Two. Such a high-speed upbringing boggles my mind. Once again this is a stock photo, but Derek and Diane look just like this at the moment, and my mama heart wishes them every success. So now we know. Two babies. Two weeks (minus time served) to enjoy them. Expect flying lessons soon.

Answers to the things we wonder about. Answers to the things we care most about… those, too. Five of the people I cherish most in the world need answers to health crises, and that’s a wait that relentlessly saps strength and courage over time. Loving people means hurting with them, that’s just how it is. May their answers turn out to be as instinctive, timely, and real as fledglings taking off for the skies.

All things considered, the heavy-duty requirement at this stage of living might be PATIENCE. Life goes on, things happen, things change for better or worse, and, well… life goes on. If you’re reading this, you’ve lived through everything that’s happened to you, every second since you were born. Base your patience on that knowledge, and keep walking. Or, like me, DO something, right or wrong, and hope for the best. Your call.

Have a lovely weekend and a solemn Memorial Day observance. Summer’s almost here!

Image by Judy Smith

A happy HumpDay…

24 May 2023 Leave a comment

***

A few major commitments having been lovingly attended to, the world feels open for the taking today. Sunshine, balmy temps, no wind, just what the doctor ordered for strapping on the sandals and hauling the carcass out into the fresh air. Did that. Felt good. By which I mean breathing fresh air is never a bad thing, but the carcass protested all the way. I’ve lost a little ground over the winter and into the woods, but nothing a bunch of dedicated torture won’t fix. Zero nerve pain, which is the whole point, just nervy muscles protesting their late-spring awakening, and they’ll get with the program soon enough.

We can’t see the neighborhood right now for the dense leaf cover, but it’s lovely down at ground level. The early bees have been fed and nurtured, so most of the dandelions have been mowed, and the eclectic yards are beautiful, each in its own way. Life on the edge of perpetual hippiedom has suited us well here and our hearts benefit every day.

Health is a temperamental thing. We think we have the whole system nailed down and something turns on us. But we no sooner speak a discouraging word to ourselves than the sun breaks out and voilá, we feel almost human again and possibilities abound! A moment of silence for Kim, who will likely be cajoled into tackling one of our last bastions of disarray… the dreaded Mantry. I can’t do it without him because the shelves are full of tools, musical instruments, sound equipment, cooking paraphernalia, and other objects I dare not make decisions about. And we have to question whether or not I can do it WITH him for precisely the same reasons. Degaussing the Mantry also necessitates, at the same time, a vicious cleansing of our storage cage down in the garage, oh my, all of which Kimmers is up for, we’re just slow starters. So yeah, keep a good thought because I can’t wait.

Today I’m in Mood #2 because there’s nothing on my calendar. Tomorrow and Friday I have appointments, so on those days I will revert to Default Mood #1. If you’re an anxiety baby I don’t even have to tell you.

Meanwhile, David & Darleen and their babies Derek & Diane keep us in Zen mode. We have to keep things copacetic… you know, for the kids.

Image by Judy Smith

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…

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

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