Mega Observations. . .
Oftentimes in retrospect, we would wish we demanded someone to grow up to matters requiring some degree of maturity. But how to do that? When a thing is outside our frame of reference, we will fight tooth and nail to remain innocent and free of taint of anything unfamiliar. Or what might even show us to be inadequate in some way. Many religions tell us to flee from what arouses fear even though new ideas might even broaden or enhance what we already believe. Even as children we would strike out aggressively at anyone disturbing our zeitgeist. One preserves one’s innocence and evolution stagnates. Do we know when the unfamiliar will undo us? That we will go babbling down the street and we will be caught by the fellows in the white coats? I think so. I think so. Which is why we make the woo woo circles in the air with our fingers to show we know who are the crazy ones.
Memory, I hear, is the high cost of life.
To be human is an excuse only to one who knows where man’s God resides.
The heart is the organ of redemption. It heals and with love salves the wounds of the world. The psyche of man is healed by the heart.
A parent is a parent. And when the child is fortunate, there are two and it is a partnership. It does not matter who nurtures. What does matter is that the arms know the shape of the heart in their care. And the heart will recognize its parent. And the one who loves him or her.
After buying a 10 yard bolt of burlap at almost 85 years of age, I cannot say I will sit and wait for death to arrive. I will meet him halfway to the bridge. I will take his hand and say let us walk the way together. And we will together, be met.
(click on the plaque. It was a gift to me from Last Bird Sings and a favorite.)