Inspiration.

This is how it is with me:
I start with a feeling I want to write about. Yes, a feeling. This morning, the feeling was "Neglect".
I open the "New Post" link and click on a picture link.
I survey the pictures that come up, looking for just that connection to my initial feeling.
Then, I proceed to write about the concept, the feeling, elucidating around the picture.
Usually, I use my own pictures,easily retrieved, and totally accessible without anybody else's permission.
When I take a picture, I'm actually writing about what I see, storing that picture in my memory cells as though each picture is about a bigger story.
For this one, I noticed how I had abandoned this corner of my garden, all of my gardens, for months and months. I had no time, nor interest in anything else except my pain and grief at that time. I noticed how my self-absorption affected the rest of the world around me.


You know how there are seven deadly sins?  Neglect should be right at the top of the list. Neglect should be the original sin! Every evil deed starts with No Deed at all. A baby that is not loved and cared for, and cherished, that baby is doomed from the start. A teen who is not asked about her day, her activities, her friends, her concerns, will find attention elsewhere. So will a wife, a husband, even a pet.


Especially a pet. If you don't care for your pet, he'll end up being mean and disruptive when you are not around.  


Neglect is a negation of love. It says, I don't care.
Neglect is like rust. It will slowly eat up the core of that being, until nothing is left.




How about You? How is your process for writing your blog?

Countdown.

Yesterday was my birthday. The day was this good. By noon, it warmed up enough for me to take a good walk around the block, even after a busy morning of Tai-Chi and housecleaning. I started Tai-Chi just a few weeks ago, a way to find my breathing, to meditate, to stretch my body and soul.

I have limited capital left in this life.
How many more losses will I experience before I die?

As I age, after each birthday, I notice that my body betrays me more and more.  I can no longer keep the svelte figure I had in my youth.  My digestion has changed: it doesn't like ice-cream, pizza, cakes,  any indulgences.  I used to spend hours cleaning and organizing the house. Now, my strength and flexibility are so unreliable that I barely do an hour of housekeeping before I collapse. (I do housekeeping as an aerobic exercise, pushing and lifting and moving the whole body!).  I sleep in spurts. I read and write in spurts too.

I'm only seventy! What will happen when I'm eighty, ninety?
(At our book club, on Thursday, Dot celebrated her 95th birthday! She reads a couple of books a week, belongs to The League of Women's Voters and many other groups active in the community!)




We have access to two canoes for lake rides.
They sit, forlorn.
Brian was the last person to ride the canoe to the Ocean and back.

I need to rustle up a youthful  desire and resolve for adventure,  a long sojourn somewhere with new sights, sounds, tastes, midnight cruises, mid-morning hikes.
I need to live while I'm alive.



How about you? Do you countdown to doing things differently?
What changes are you looking forward to?

The next stage.

It's Fall, and the rains have not arrived yet.  Everything is drying, except the morning fog over the ocean and the lake. Lights from crab boats bob through the night on the Ocean, like stars in the sky. Overhead, the sky is calm. Winds are soft whispers.

This is a false lull.
We're anticipating furious storms any day now, storms that will shut us in the house for hours and days. Newkie, our new cat, will be shocked at the violence of the winds. She'll have to become an indoor cat exclusively.



We've been on curvy and treacherous  roads since July. Literally.Metaphorically. Roads with names like Shock, Grief, Funeral, Memorial, Probate, District Attorney, Crime Unit Investigations. We are tired and worn out. We sleep poorly. Our  patterns have changed. Our foundation has shifted.

There will be a next stage.

But, as in an earthquake, the next stage is the mess you alone deal with. Everybody else will have moved on. You deal with the clean up,  the re-building, the healing.

As long as you have life, you will have stages.
Like seasons, they each bring new perspectives and new challenges.