O kay, I can’t live like this–all this tweeting, and FBing, and
V blogging, as if I need to know
E very single inconsequential thing about your daily
R ituals, what you’re selling, what you’re pushing.
W hat I need is quiet–physical and mental–a
H iatus from personal and political rants and
E nd-of-the-world diatribes. If the world is
L ost, then let me at the very least live
M y last brief moments
E njoying the illusion that people really
D o love and respect each other–at least now and then.
S omething stinks, and the decay
C omes creeping, creeping, over Facebook and
E mail and Twitter—whatever. And I would have
N ever thought the divide so wide, the pit so deep, and
T he resolution and mending so impossiblly far off.
D oom and gloom, sometimes of our own doing;
E ven if not, we can choose how
V aliantly or cowardly we respond.
A cceptance does not mean
S urrender.
T olerance does not mean
A ll points of view are true. But
T o live, thrive, and love
I n this crazy, reeling world is to
O nly and in all things hope,
N ot giving destruction and despair a soul-hold.
Were I to cling to safety and hide behind these formidable walls–
safety behind, beside, and above,
I would miss the adventure,
the big, wide, and prickly world of the unknown.
I visited Virginia City, NV, a few years ago. The old part of town looked like it came out of a Hollywood western, complete with rustic building facades, saloons, and wooden sidewalks. Strolling along, you had to be careful where you planted your feet because probably like bygone days the planked sidewalks were uneven. Sometimes where one board met another, there was a lip that could send the unwary sprawling.
Now in my town that would be an occasion to sue. But in days gone by, the assumption was that you watched where you walked and took charge of your own life. Though efforts were made to safeguard the community, it was assumed that life happened, so walker beware.
It seems that in this day, we want everyone to be aware for us and to be held accountable for any mishap–whether it be a physical situation or a misspoken word. Life is uneven–sometimes a result of our own choices and sometimes others’. To take responsibility for our actions and own the resulting consequences is a skillset that needs cultivating.
So yes, I am taking that Facebook post down right away!
I ncreasing in time and distance, pushing back, back, back and forward again,
N ever finding a beginning or an ending. It is like the game I used to play as a kid,
F illing my mind with as much intentional emptiness as I could, pushing, pushing to see
I f I could drive my way back to where there is
N othing.
I t never quite worked because somewhere in this exercise my brain would stop—just stop.
T oo full of thoughts to be empty, expanding space. Too busy and impatient to persevere to the end of my self. Vanity. Human.
E ver seeking the end of things, the majesty where God lives and where He finds it in Himself to love even me.
Let me be SPECIFIC: I had hoped to FLOAT into the New Year with a new determination to daily respond to the Daily Prompt; however, it has been 3 days without posting, and I guess I was just TEMPTED by other things–photography edits, hiking, cookies, school corrections and lesson plans, and other engagements. It just had not CROSSED my mind that I was so late.
Now let me be SPECIFIC: Though I didn’t post on time for the others, I feel much assuaged in my guilt, having included 4 prompts in one.
See, I feel so much better.
Lots of people are saying good riddance to 2016, as if it had its own personality and a will its own. But that last stroke of midnight, though a final wave goodbye, will not diminish all that was set in motion during those crazy months.
Gone but not forgotten!
(screenshot from live feed)
I have been watching the live feed from Florida of bald eagles and their eggs. One has hatched and is fed raw fish from a very conscientious mama (or perhaps daddy—hard to tell). The other egg’s hatching looks imminent. Mama sits on her nest, rearranging the twigs and grasses, protecting the hatchling and the one yet to come. The nest does not look particularly soft or comfortable, but obviously fits the bill for this little family. What makes this nest safe is not the materials of which it is made, but the presence of formidable parent-raptors who not only shelter the young but stand ready to fend off any foe.
The home my husband and I made for our kids is not very fancy. It is not filled with rich furnishings or decked out in ostentatious accessories. Granted, it is a bit more than twigs and grasses perched high in a tree, like my eagle friends, but it is warm, and hopefully welcoming in its simplicity—and with no more eggs to hatch!
I have visited immaculate homes with rich furnishings, but sometimes the décor does in no way compensate for the pain and dissatisfaction present in its inhabitants. I would prefer to invest in simplicity and a happy hearth for my home to one of cold perfection.
The same goes for an interior life, I suppose. I want my interior design to be straightforward and honest, not cluttered with the thoughts and arguments of someone on the run from themselves and truth, not decked out with the lies people tell themselves to keep guilt at bay. Not cold and aloof, fearing exposure, but open, honest, and welcoming.
As is my home, so I want my heart to be—hospitable to life. Simple, clean, and suited for the task.
Now back to my eagle live cam. It is not a great movie because the plot doesn’t move quickly, but the characters are awesome!
It is just another sunset and sunrise,
another day and night, a long exhale, but
somehow turning the page of a calendar to the start of a new year,
a new number,
is like a deep breath of hope
that the future, rather than a serial plot line, is a new story to be written on
this clean,
blank page.
Apronhead 