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 |    Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
Winter 12 'Ala (March 13) 2006-03-13 afternoon, 42 degrees. 33 in Missoula, MT. Got talking to someone about Boulder today. We both liked Nederland. He's thinking about going to Missoula because it's colder and more like what Boulder was 20 years ago. He has a point. Towns as well as people can be spoiled by success. Well, my car is okay. Bit another bullet there! Lots of trees down in that neighborhood. Friends loss electricity for hours. May need to restock the fridge today when Jessica and I go to the store. Dottie was happy and totally oblivious. As a puppy she seemed to be most interested in wagging her whole body to greet me with her whiskers. And she has learned how to behave to get a treat. The paper today isn't calling yesterday's event a tornado; but, can't convince those who saw rotation or went through it that it wasn't something close enough to make the argument moot. Some have video. So, called Jan today figuring that maybe folks would wonder how I was doing. Tain't much of an excuse, but it'll do. She had stories about children we've talked about in the past. They grow up fast. I'll have to remember to send out an email this week to keep in touch as my friends and family do not seem to want to read my blog. It is work to keep in touch. SENSED peasize hail; pear blossoms; grey streaks across a full moon backed by a blue sky, dark cloud above, white below; brown puppy; crowds whooping outside a boarded up bar. Alway more to notice in the Spring! Saw a robin calmly sitting on a pile of brush from yesterday's storm. Forsythia in bloom everywhere, peeking from out behind downed trees. Saw magnolia (two types: pink cucumber and star) in bloom yesterday. What wasn't killed survives quite nicely. It'll be warmer tomorrow and a better day to take photos. Sketched 3-11: Moonrise before the dawn of redemption Nothing can be seen on this starlit night what remains wrong must be made right two threads entwined, one black, one white we sleep too tired from life's long flight. Yet before the dawn, breaks a fullsome moon and all becomes silvered, a Brigadoon where the lonesome response of the far-off loon is heard over the waking scuttles of coons. For once in a hundred years they say, come the mists and the moans in the month of May when they meet lips to lips where the grass grows gay in hope once again it's Redemption Day. [162.794] GETTING TO KNOW ME 123. Anxiety for me is like the moments before the storm. Once it hits, I cope. After, I'm fine. Long after I may still be dealing with it if it deeply affected me. These are some of the seeds of trauma. 124. Trauma doesn't go away by telling it to go away. It takes time. Sometimes a lifetime, sometimes never. 3 years is not long enough. Yet, tomorrow it could be dissipated. Not likely. 125. I am who I am. Never could be what others wanted; never could allow myself to be ME either. 126. Thunder storms and Nature excite me, energize me. Internal struggles sap my strength. 127. What I want most today? A phone call from a certain friend. Although, frankly, any call would do fine! O SON OF BEING! Thy Paradise is My love; thy heavenly home, reunion with Me. Enter therein and tarry not. This is that which hath been destined for thee in Our kingdom above and Our exalted dominion. ~Bahá'u'lláh, Arabic Hidden Words # 6 |
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