Gratitude Sunday: New Spring, New Easter

Gratitude * Sunday
Sunday’s heartfelt tradition.
A time to slow down, to reflect, to be grateful.
A list of gratitudes, our gratefulness feeds one another.
Quoted from Taryn Wilson
Joining the Gratitude Sunday Tradition at Wooly Moss Roots.

Sunday Haiku
Bright white light fills my
eye, soft gray clouds obscure my
sight, cover my sigh.

Sunday Musings
Happy Easter however you celebrate it!

Regardless of spiritual overtones, Easter time represents the best of spring, a time of new beginnings, fresh starts, birth, changes, transitions, movement. It marks another year in the wild crazy adventure we call life.

In my youth I thought of life as a destination. If I can accomplish this one thing I will be happy. If this happens I will be content. When that thing comes through we’ll finally be good. Yet with every success and failure little satisfaction was obtained.

As I grew older I began to realize the only destination is death and I better embrace the journey along the way. The journey, however, has proved to be a struggle as there have been small joys and massive amounts of distress. The normal/average/typical road is difficult. The road less traveled is exponentially harder. This journey has been full of failures, nay, of lessons learned and not learned. This journey has also been full of successes as ephemeral and amorphous as they are.

Now I am older still and the destination looms hopefully still far in the future. The journey fades as each day becomes a failure and a success merely because I got through it. Each day is a gift to be made of what I will.

The past is memory. I judge myself on it and carry the burden of it. Yet if you tell nothing of your past to others, it hardly matters, certainly not to others who carry their own burdens. Is our past real or can it fade into fiction? Is it the reality or the fiction time has made of memories that is our burden? If it hardly matters why do we carry the weight of our past? The past is hard to give up because we carry our memories in our bodies not just our brains. The past is in our muscles, our blood, our cells, our DNA even when the memory proves elusive.

The future does not exist. We perceive the future in our imaginations: we plan, we make goals, we visualize, but we live only this very moment. I may want to have lunch at noon but so many things can happen between this now when I am in the moment of thinking of lunch, and that moment when I sit down to lunch, the concept of noon may seem arbitrary to the fact of when I’m having a meal. The phone could ring, I could trip over the cat, a bird might crash into the window, the dishwasher could overflow and lunch might not happen at noon. That crafty imagination brought all kinds of unnecessary concerns which don’t exist. The concerns are real enough; there are so many shoulds, woulds, and coulds. The concerns are not what necessarily what will happen; they are only possibilities in the myriad moments of the not-yet-existing “future”.

Which is evidence that even this moment we call now, slips away unceasingly like the current of a river. I can sit here writing, nothing changing in my immediate now, but time still passes, the sun moves across the sky, and life goes on for every person in my extended life. A phone call comes, or a text, or an e-mail, or a news report, and life has changed for someone else and there goes my river flowing off in an entirely new direction. It doesn’t matter if the news is good or bad; a change has happened. The past, the present, and the unknown future alters.

As a low-income person I have less control over how the river flows in my life. I am no longer able to control the flow and my influence is relegated to how I can keep what I have without falling further into poverty. One can live a good life with little, for example, Jesus Christ never owned property, nor did Mother Teresa, or Buddha. I am by no means comparing myself to them. Yet. One needs little in the way of material things to enjoy the bright changes in nature spring brings. Or to ride the current of change.

Spring’s colors and longer days seem to make transitions, changes, and re-birth or new birth easier. I don’t know if it’s the colors or the light or merely a sense of having survived another year, but I find spring to be refreshing and uplifting.

So life goes as the river flows. Welcome, Easter and Welcome, Spring!

Color Watchcolorful attractions in my neighborhoods this week – A cluster of bright and pastel daffodils next to the red brick of one of our city buildings. A creamy white bunch of blooms with golden centers. This tangle of varied pink cherry blossoms against the brown branches that produce them. The yellow green of these leaves against the tiny salmon pink buds. Vivid purple shooting star.

Current View – {These are only my opinions about movies and books, but don’t let me stop you from trying these reviewed items yourself; your opinion may differ.} Hell or High Water (2016, rated R) with Jeff Bridges. A pair of brothers rob the bank that holds their mortgage to pay off the mortgage. It’s a little more complicated than that, and even though it is a crime movie, the intricacies are fascinating. * Discovered two seasons of Call the Midwife (2016, TV series) I hadn’t seen. Despite the predictability of having a birth in each episode, and the same things said to coach each new mother, the series addresses social issues such as British National Health, the challenges of living in poverty, self-inflicted and back alley abortions, language barriers, drunken or abusive fathers, and babies born with disabilities in the late 1950s and early 1960s, social topics still very much in discussion. The character portrayal of the midwives and nuns is engaging, as well. * Florence Foster Jenkins (2016, rated PG -13) with Meryl Streep, from a true story of a socialite who thinks she can sing, and can’t, but she does anyway. We all should have such confidence. Another stellar performance from Streep. * The Passion of The Christ (2004, rated R), the Mel Gibson production. I had not watched this before and I won’t need to again. I admire the production but it was absolutely bloody brutal to watch especially with the current political climate; though we have no current Christ figures in our world we certainly have a similar amount of brutality in many forms. Make no mistake: Christ’s death was as much political as religious; greed and jealousy are disgusting reasons to hurt people. I’m familiar with the stories but in the movie I couldn’t tell who was who even after I figured out who most of the players were; everybody had dark hair and dark beards, or helmets. I have never understood the need (or pleasure – more disgust there) for some people to inflict pain upon others, and watching this movie reinforces to me that for whatever reason some people cannot rise above that base feeling. I have more questions now than before. Always questioning.

Currently Reading – Finished Pachinko (2017, fiction) by Min Jin Lee. Tragedies ping around the plot like a steel ball in an old mechanical pachinko machine and shines as brightly as a new electronic one. I understand more about the racism between Korea, Japan, and China now, and American racism toward Asian races. I find racism such a sad waste of human potential, and I don’t have to abide it; unfortunately so much racism was here before I was. * Finished Ghostland: An American History in Haunted Places (2016, sociology/haunted places) by Colin Dickey. Well done historical approach. Death is one of the sure things we have in this life; we cannot help but be fascinated with what happens after. And exciting for me: Mr Dickey was my classmate when we were seeking an under-graduate degree. I am happy to see him succeed. * Galileo’s Middle Finger: Heretics, Activists, and the Search for Justice in Science (2015, scientific morality and ethics) by Alice Dreger. Just starting, the introduction gives a clue I will be reading about the philosophy of ethics and morality of medical procedures altering the bodies of babies born with ambiguous genitalia. Fascinating. * Citizen: An American Lyric (2015, prose poetry) by Claudia Rankine, a series of frank prose addressing the current black experience, climate, exclusion, and blatant discrimination in white America.

This week I have been grateful for:

  • Getting my taxes done and mailed.
  • How vivid the spring colors of flowers look when the sky is gray.
  • A few sunny peaks through the April showers.
  • The new baby giraffe at Animal Adventure Park after weeks of watching.
  • Resting when I needed to.
  • Being able to do my pool work-out when I wasn’t feeling up to par.
  • The pleasure of reading when I want, not just at breaks and lunch like when I was gainfully employed.
  • Getting up when my body says “Get up!” instead of by the clock.
  • The convenience of my own private bathroom.
  • Celebrating the successes of other people and not falling into the jealousy trap of comparisons.
  • A fat ripe sweet juicy pineapple.
  • Water.

Hoping you have a lovely week.

Namaste. Peace. Blessings.

Floral ribbon border by Laurel Burch

This entry was posted in abundance, Aging, GRATITUDE, Grief, Health, History, Nature, Photography, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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