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The noise started at 12:20 a.m. with a whirring.  And it rumbled through the concrete floors and affected my heart rhythm.  I fibrillated and became concerned.  It started when I was readying for bed and when I settled in bed and was comfortably placed, I tensed and the bed shivered.

It was with a vibration that affected my body’s whole system.  It was as if my blood flow reversed itself and had no idea what to do.  I then played musical beds.  I went to my sitting room and sat.  And then to the sofa.  Uncomfortable there.  Then went into the main living room and even Leroy looked askance.  I tried all the chairs.  Nothing worked.

I went back to bed twice and thought I settled but was so uncomfortable I got up.  Wobbly on legs unanchored I tried calling my son upstairs.   The call went to voicemail and I knew he was asleep.

I ended up in my chair again in the sitting room and with a pillow and throw, and new bottle of nitros because the older bottle had no bite,  I decided to wait for my heart to stop.  But over an hour had passed and I dozed.

The vibrations were softening and breathing became lighter and I thought, oh great I am on my way out. It was 2 a.m.  and then it was 2:50 a.m.  I lumbered to bed and went out like a light.

Awake at 7 a.m. son John said hi ma and I related my adventure in detail.  We went to my wing and checked every conceivable thing that could be turned on.  It truly felt like some heavy crane had idled outside the window.

When he came in from chores and said he talked to the water softener agent and she said considering the generator is attached to the side of the house and with our usage, the generator would  operate every 3 or 4 days,  at night.  I had spoken of this noise before.

With no basement, the generator sounds noisy at night with vibrations resonating through the concrete base.

We have always had water softened but in a house with a basement where I manually softened the water.  Because the setup is different here, the effect is different.

Having written of being bodily wired in Earth’s gravity like a violin and a kalaidoscopic  perspective,  I am grateful son John took the time to unravel this conundrum.  Sounds and emotions have rampaged my physical frame to leave me awash for almost a hundred years.

But I plan to stay till my name is called because no other world I love so much.

What is hidden will surface and cannot be forever controlled.

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Manipulation is the black boot sitting on the head.

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A broader view is the fullness of a larger life.

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How to teach Within is the treasure and without the Within there is no Without.

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Trying to stay sane in an insane world is not easy.  Especially when you see what you see is a curse and a blessing.

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Old beliefs are a security blanket.  But already they become bare when the nap has been plucked from them.  It is then time for new thought to cover old butts.

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It is not the common lot of man to pursue learning what he only glimpses.  The extraordinary man who persists is the one the heavens pursue.

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Given enough rope every man will hang himself.  They will also pull themselves up the mountain.

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Race the night to its completion for the morning will arrive and demand something from you.

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How high up you reach is how high up you jump.

What Will You Do. . .when they tell you?

Only by observing on a constant basis the differences of genetics and environment on your own children, can you begin to see how unequal we are born.  This has been an ongoing study for me because of my own differences and peculiarities as compared to my 7 siblings and also these same differences and similarities in our 3 sons.

The topic has been repeated with added nuances and differentiation as the years progress.  Strangely there have been fewer inconsistencies simply because time kaleidoscopes into simultaneous events with my scribing.

When reading Doris Lessing’s Shikasta series the psychiatrist raises the significance in quality of thought.   Just two percent difference in the quality of thought puts both people, the talker and the listener in different countries and maybe worlds.

2 % is enough truly for different worlds.  All we have to do is look about our world.  Within families at the table, one notes the differences in emotional maturity.  When listening to the arguments, especially when tempers rise, one wonders who are the children and who the adults.

It is staggering to the senses when one notes with alarm the maturity assumed by the sons and daughters with the preponderance of classes in debating.  The elders, whether in Congress or in business depend greatly on sophistication that comes with experience.  And assume those will carry their argument.

My generation still assumes that all are created equally.  I cannot come to any word describing even one characteristic having no exception.  Coming to mind are the two girl playmates on the train to Chicago.  Both beautiful, different skin colors. . . overheard talking about birth marks, with one having a large visible mark.

Some of us have them on the outside, said one and some of us on the inside.  They both agreed.  And some still harbor the notion that all are a clean slate at birth to be written on by our compulsory education.  Even though educational systems differ throughout the country but this fact escapes their thinking.

We must stress the abilities of unique differences.  And how these enrich our lives.  When we look into the eyes of children we should see angels walking into our hearts.  If you are fortunate they will call you Baba knowing you are the safe one.  You are the haven they require if the world is to progress and they are to contribute.

When you see how much you invest in each child to instill needful habits you realize the great differences.  And muttering in exasperation where did you come from?  What would you do or think if you truly knew from where?

And what will you do when they tell you?

artwork by
Claudia Hallissey

When one has knowledge, one also has the obligation.
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God is a word most people stop at because the mind balks
at its meagre knowledge to proceed.
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To not remember to lock the vault leaves it to be burglarized.
Or easily opened at best to remember without those whose presence
would have made the memories bearable, either in joy or sorrow.
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To put memories into a vault and tightly lid them is
to crowd the emotions into a body with only death as a release.
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It is a work when to sit down to rest in front of the fire
one has to build it first.  But no fire made by another’s hands
warms as completely as one’s own effort in building and fanning one’s own flame.
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All labor is divine for it is the creative principle at work.  And
it is the creative principle one should cherish.
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There never was an all right in anything.
The all right is always conditional.
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How great a problem is,
is already decided by the forgetting.
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Conscience is installed to monitor one’s life for one’s survival.
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Conscience is memory of acts done to one
with the memory of pain.
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Two by two was for the Ark.
But two by two can only be because someone has moved over
to allow space for an Other.
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We are better than what we think but never as good
as what we know.
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