This is a good Rainy Monday colour. Blue with a hint of grey.
So it seems, it seems (think Hamlet), that I forgot I had a blog... again. Well I was only writing for practice, and for escape, not for posterity. Which is a good thing, Martha, because no one knows I'm here anyway!
I wonder how long I could blog under the radar?
After keeping journals for years I finally type much faster than I write and think in type better than in ink.
May 22 today, a holiday. It is tough to concentrate with an untidy house, looming school deadlines, and my brother's wedding on Saturday.... I'm the MC. I'm about to have a nervous breakdown.
Satisfaction in life is directly proportional to one's expectations. As I learn to expect less, I feel more content in the everyday. I didn't expect to relax, have fun, or get away this May long weekend. I have a million and one things pending. Therefore, each moment of relaxation, a cup of coffee uninterrupted, sitting with the kids on the couch or sleeping in seem like boons of benevolence. Like Keegan's Shirley Temple at East Side Mario's last night... a red, blue, and orange cherry on a glass stick complete with a cloud of pink cotton candy!! Unprecedented riches!! Next time, when he expects it, the colorful wand will be mildly enjoyable. Perhaps the cotton candy cloud won't be as large. A slight frown, a feeling of disappointment.
Disappointment that is expected is merely normalcy. A childhood without disappointment sends perfectly sane adults to mental institutions. Actually, I am quite sure cynicism is the cure for all ills. OK, maybe not all. Complacent skepticism disguised here as serious thought will solve a few problems as well, by tucking them nicely away from view. Just sliiiide it over, gently, behind the hedge there.
A fully engaged life is one that deals with complexities, that never shuts the door and sits demurely with a dime novel. An engaged life must draw strength from God, working with Him, talking with Him. Accepting the disappointments and opening to each blessing with wonder and joy. It is tempting to shut down, to blank out, to shift the view to what you want to see and the blame to someone, anyone. Some rainy Mondays can only come one drop at a time, one foot in front of the other. One load of laundry, one rosebush pruned, one assignment graded. Perhaps in living fully, engaged in the moment, there will be no time to gaze with a cynical eye. What is required? To act justly, to love mercy, to walk humbly with God.
So it seems, it seems (think Hamlet), that I forgot I had a blog... again. Well I was only writing for practice, and for escape, not for posterity. Which is a good thing, Martha, because no one knows I'm here anyway!
I wonder how long I could blog under the radar?
After keeping journals for years I finally type much faster than I write and think in type better than in ink.
May 22 today, a holiday. It is tough to concentrate with an untidy house, looming school deadlines, and my brother's wedding on Saturday.... I'm the MC. I'm about to have a nervous breakdown.
Satisfaction in life is directly proportional to one's expectations. As I learn to expect less, I feel more content in the everyday. I didn't expect to relax, have fun, or get away this May long weekend. I have a million and one things pending. Therefore, each moment of relaxation, a cup of coffee uninterrupted, sitting with the kids on the couch or sleeping in seem like boons of benevolence. Like Keegan's Shirley Temple at East Side Mario's last night... a red, blue, and orange cherry on a glass stick complete with a cloud of pink cotton candy!! Unprecedented riches!! Next time, when he expects it, the colorful wand will be mildly enjoyable. Perhaps the cotton candy cloud won't be as large. A slight frown, a feeling of disappointment.
Disappointment that is expected is merely normalcy. A childhood without disappointment sends perfectly sane adults to mental institutions. Actually, I am quite sure cynicism is the cure for all ills. OK, maybe not all. Complacent skepticism disguised here as serious thought will solve a few problems as well, by tucking them nicely away from view. Just sliiiide it over, gently, behind the hedge there.
A fully engaged life is one that deals with complexities, that never shuts the door and sits demurely with a dime novel. An engaged life must draw strength from God, working with Him, talking with Him. Accepting the disappointments and opening to each blessing with wonder and joy. It is tempting to shut down, to blank out, to shift the view to what you want to see and the blame to someone, anyone. Some rainy Mondays can only come one drop at a time, one foot in front of the other. One load of laundry, one rosebush pruned, one assignment graded. Perhaps in living fully, engaged in the moment, there will be no time to gaze with a cynical eye. What is required? To act justly, to love mercy, to walk humbly with God.
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