Ten-Finger Exercises

blogalog

I don't really have a topic, you see, tonight. That is, I have one or two, but not the time and quiet and frame of mind to write about them. So, like last night, I've been trolling through the blogs hunting for something that caught my imagination. Last night I forgot to come back in time to write though.

I hadn't made a comment at alfred booth, wanbli ska 's blog for a while, so I stopped by. I'm still catching up on the ones I missed during vacation, and so I came upon his "If I were a ___" entry. Normally that sort of game doesn't appeal to me, but I had fun doing it.

One problem I encountered was that he did not specify what animals I would like to be, just which ones I would be.

For instance, if I were a bird I would probably be a waddly old penguin with very cold feet. But I'd rather be a swallow, dipping and diving, whirling through the sky, putting up my mud nest anywhere I pleased, maybe even making the yearly trip to Capistrano.

Now here's the other problem: what would it feel like to be a tree of any kind? Would it be better to be tall so the eagles might land on you, or would you be afraid of the lightning? Or are we to make these choices only by thinking which ones are the most attractive, or useful? Will people love me more if I provide good shade? Or will they be thinking about cutting me down for a Christmas tree? That would be a short, but festive, life.

I can't remember at all what kind of dog I said I'd like to be. How terrible! And I committed to it, and now I'm stuck with it for life? Oh well, maybe I can change. Whatever kind it is, I hope I can run through the orchards and the fields chasing rabbits, then thrill at the sound of my master's voice calling me in for chow and a good scratch behind the ears. "Good dog," will be such a pleasure to hear! In fact, maybe I'd even like it now, those amiable pats and praises. Doesn't that sound good to you?

As for a flower, I think I'd prefer to be one that fades slowly, maybe pressed in a book at the end of my life, rather than one like an iris that just shrivels into a gelatinous goo.

Now, more to the point, I think: what kind of person do I want to be? And how much control do I have over that? I mean, I'll never be an athlete, but I might be stronger and more graceful with the right training and practice.

I'll never be one of those marvelous, joy-filled people who are so affirming and always positive in their outlook. Truth be told, I don't want to be as sweet as all that. I prefer a person with a little tartness, a little bite: a key lime pie, say, rather than a praline or divinity. But I can try harder to say positive, encouraging things.

I'd like to be a 'holy' person, but for the wrong reasons, so that won't work. I'd like to have that inner serenity that comes from being in touch with myself, and more, with One who is greater than myself, the Source of all being. I can work more toward that connection.

I'd like to be like my grandmother, and my father, who I never heard speak angry words. They were peaceful people, and content in themselves enough to not be threatened or become defensive when others acted badly.

I'd also like to be a better friend, and that includes to my children. So, I'd better get off this laptop and get on the phone before it's too late to call. Good night all.