I just realized that I have been writing this blog for one year, as of December 2ND.
Do you know why I started writing a blog? Me either. I think it had something to do with someone whom I greatly admire encouraging me to write. But I remember feeling inadequate, how does one write if one has never taken the proper courses or educational opportunities? Is it possible to write without knowing how to write? There are many who write, the blog nation is heavily populated. Sometimes I check out the "Next Blog" prompt- many of those I have come upon are written in languages new to my eyes. Many blogs appear to be rants and are often ugly, hit and run bashings. The landfills are not the only public places full of garbage. But- to each his own.
The human spirit amazes me. How on earth do some people survive? Why don't they use their poor excuse for a life like so many others and just give up and spew more garbage?! Could it be they have found a most necessary element of living- being grateful? Why is it so hard for people to open their eyes to their blessings? Don't they know the past is locked in, there is no key to open that door, that the future is limitless but cannot be obtained now, no way no how? I know it may sound too simple and perhaps a bit Pollyanna-ish to say, but the moment to live is now, the time to be thankful is ever present, the breath you take at this very moment is a gift. Oh sure there are moments I wish I could race through, not feel them, get past them. There are people I encounter that I just want to shake. There are children in this household (some coming, some going...)that I wish would just wake up to their responsibilities- their potential. But the best I can do is have faith in them, love them all along and anyway. I'm the only one I can really change. My response to their actions requires a great deal of love, all that I can afford. I'm awful selfish in that department at times. I know it hurts them, though I don't often see that hurt until it is almost too late. But then again, it never truly is too late- every opportunity to begin again is always there. Once I get past my misgivings, my ego- I can relate again to them in a loving way. The only way. Being on the right path is difficult, and made so much more so because I think I know the way. I don't. But when I'm on it, I feel so intensely peaceful that things just seem to flow, fall into place. That's why I continued to write this blog- for a year. I was only going to do it for one full year. Find my voice, my authentic telling of the day- my perception. But that is not what happened.
All my ramblings were not so much my voice, but a voice. The perception did not come from me but from an inner voice that merely echoes timeless truths. The holy spirit is alive and well in me, the divine spark- whatever you want to call it- really shines. I'm not making this up. I wish I were, then I could go back and be my bumbling mumbling self. I could drink till I was dry of all torment for a time. I could shake my fist at the world with ugly words and say I deserve deliverance. Because I've been to hell and back and know the path well- but who hasn't? Everybody has a brick to carry, everyone bears a load. Everyone. No one on this good earth has got it easy. We all get waylaid sometimes, some have a whopper of a mess for a life, some truly- by no guilt of their own. Some parents were no parents at all, they were just biologically serving. And yet, their children found it within themselves to rise anyway. They did not use excuses, they used strength of spirit. Again, these kind of accomplishments amaze me- to no end.
So, as I can- I'll keep writing, bringing to light the stories that amaze me, the moments that inspire me, the hardships that bring me down to my knees. If I find a greater good in my day, I'll keep sharing it. If I find a bit of humor, well I'll try to bring that too. If I have a rant, just bear with me- I'll get through it somehow, usually by either finding the beauty, the absurdity or the oh well! in it.
Oh, by the way- the house is out from under construction. The new bathtub upstairs is serenity. The walls everywhere shine eggshell off white. The light over the stove(the one I've been waiting 18 years for...)is magnificent. And the new door off the back porch- actually closes on it's own, the latch never fails. If I say "just like love", you'll groan. So I won't say it, it's merely written here as a disclosure, a reminder. But it's true.