Posts Tagged ‘Love’
Today I’m
Today I’m not preparing to evacuate a hurricane zone. In the middle of the country, the biggest threat from hurricanes on the east coast is that they might temporarily stall the usual flow of high or low pressure weather systems that move across our region.
Today I’m purposefully ignoring anything that democrats or republicans want to tell me about how awful and scary the “other” party candidates are. Just not gonna allow them to sully an otherwise promising possibility for goodness and prosperity to spring forth from even horrifically dire situations.
Today I’m remembering how it felt to be chronically depressed and appreciating the grace that allowed me to discover I had power over my thoughts and my body chemistry to navigate my way to better health. Eat well, exercise often, focus thoughts and actions in the direction of optimal health. Repeat.
Today I’m revisiting my realization that I am the only one who sees things exactly the way I do while standing in my shoes, and the view from every other vantage point is not necessarily wrong. Many could even be the exact opposite. Whether you need to turn left or right to pull into our driveway depends completely on whether you are approaching from the north or the south.
Today I’m going to laugh at something, because the universe is filled with comical possibilities. Even our horses have demonstrated the art of prankish shenanigans. It’s all in the timing, and they obviously have a sense of it.
Today I’m publishing this post, because you might stop by to read it and I want there to be something for you that wasn’t here yesterday at this time. A morsel of *this* John W. Hays’ take on things and experiences that I captured in the moment. A glimpse of the ongoing drama from my world that I hope dances around being relative to something for you every now and again.
Today I’m sending you peace and love from beautiful Wintervale Ranch in Beldenville, WI, USA.
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It’s Silly
It’s silly, I know, but I can’t help thinking maybe somehow that is the secret to what makes it so. Silly, that is. Like a dream that makes sense, only it doesn’t at all. Time gets all mixed up, and the characters, too. How can the ages of people get all misconstrued? Even those who’ve passed on show up, still doing what they do.
Well, there are those who see this as not dreamy at all. It’s actually explainable in their point of view, with time being hardly linear and spirits always present, yet mostly unseen. It is exactly what is happening, like a coupon being redeemed. There for the taking, if we choose to direct our attention in the general direction of effect.
To be aware, or be not. That is the question. Whether ’tis nobler to notice what is there all along, stumbling and rushing through mere air without care, or bumbling along just the same, yet with a certain savoir faire.
It’s energy, is all. An emanating, radiating field of unscientific particle waves. It’s anger or love that flows with abandon in directions intended, or not, at speeds and distances that defy what’s made sense since the time we left caves.
See, feel, and touch all you can possibly reach, then know, like the molecules too small to detect, there is more making contact than we’ll ever be aware, even those who detect what most of us perceive as not being there.
I choose sending love, whenever I can. Forward and back, even through time, just in case it might work. To those whom I know and even more, those I don’t. It would be silly, I think, to believe it a risk. I’m sending love, yes indeed, even while writing all of this.
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More Love
Picking up where I left off yesterday, on the subject of love…
I had a moment —well quite a few moments, actually— of being overwhelmed by simultaneous competing demands on my attention at the day-job yesterday. In the midst of the crazy-making, I felt an urge to be standing in the energy of our 4 horses.
I think they were sending me love.
I made a mental note to get myself down with them when I got home from work, rain or shine. This region has been under siege by downpours of heavy rain lately. My late departure from the cities turned out to be mostly trouble-free, both from traffic and precipitation.
When I got within a mile of home, I spotted standing water in some of the farm fields. As I pulled into our driveway, I saw water running in our drainage ditch. We had obviously received a significant amount of rain just a short time before. Cyndie confirmed it had poured hard.
The rain gauge contained 1.25 inches. The horses seemed entirely calm and collected with the situation. I needed to dig out a run-off route that had filled in and caused water to flow where we don’t want it to go.
Working there in the paddock put me right where I wanted to be among the herd. Legacy was particularly friendly and approached me to connect in a way that seemed a little uncharacteristic of him.
I think he knew it was just what I was hoping for.
Standing with them, breathing, loving, and feeling loved.
Horse medicine for what was ailing me.
I loved it.
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Trying Not
I’m trying not to succumb to the outrage. Outrage may well be deserved, but it doesn’t serve me well. I have to choose a different path. I strive to avoid getting my feathers stuck in the tar of controversial opposing opinions, but maybe venting about some of the insanity will bring about an inspiration to counter the inherent despair.
Does any of this make sense?
How did Wells Fargo bank get away with years of creating bogus accounts without customers’ consent?
How did the Sugar Association get away with paying off Harvard scientists?
How do political campaigns succeed by only focusing on the perceived bad things about other candidates without providing any substance of their own in ads?
How did we get to a point where there are only two unpopular primary candidates for President of the United States?
How do people feel comfortable publicly supporting a candidate who demonstrates such contemptible characteristics?
Why do people allow religious ideology to lead them down a path of choosing to injure and kill others?
What if creative people like Lennon & McCartney were able to write songs about peace and love for all of the world to hear?
What if that made all the difference?
All you need is love.
Love is all you need.
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Pequenita consoling me while I distract myself with word games… That’s love.
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Anniversary Thirty-Five
Happy Anniversary today, Cyndie. Thirty-five years in a blink. How’d that happen?
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At the same time, today is also Julian’s birthday. Thanks for sharing this day with us, my other jwh, and making it even more special than it already was!
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Scratch Fest
When I walk in the door at home after work, Pequenita kicks it in to high gear, meowing and rubbing herself against my legs in a plea for attention. The second I settle somewhere to take a load off my feet, she climbs aboard.
I am at her service, giving her whatever she seems to want the most, in terms of massage and scratching. Her head shifts up and down, to and fro, moving to direct my fingers to the next sweet spot.
I suppose we both gain something out of the exercise, but I get the impression that she tends to enjoy it just a little bit more than I.
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Hi, Mom
It’s a tough thing to lose a parent, but my mom lived a long, full life. She was ready to go when her time came, and I was ready for her to go. It’s been many years since I’ve been able to spend time with her on Mother’s Day, and as each additional year passes, instead of getting easier, I find I miss her more and more.
Here’s to my mom.
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Overwhelmingly Loved
I am living a charmed life lately. Really. It’s a bit overwhelming. How do you adequately thank someone for loving you?
Pequenita has been dishing out so much affection for me that I am almost feeling smothered by her. At the same time, who can resist the charm of a cat who repeatedly seeks a perch somewhere on top of you?
She can be so insistent for attention when I get home from work that I have to pick her up to protect my legs from becoming her scratching post. If I make the mistake of choosing to lay down with her for a few minutes at that hour of the day, I usually become the victim of an unplanned nap.
She oftentimes finds a suitable spot on my legs and joins me for a snooze.
My lovely wife has been spoiling me with extra special attention by choosing healthy options for my goal of eating a reduced sugar diet, and tweaking her bread recipes to incorporate more diverse grains with extra substance. Lately I have a thing for millet in bread, along with a fondness for wheat berry and sunflower nuts, in addition to the usual whole grains.
Yesterday, Cyndie nailed it with a couple of excellent loaves, hot out of the oven at dinner time, while she was simultaneously whipping up some fresh homemade pasta to serve as a base under her delectable leftover beef bourguignon that was recently pulled from the freezer.
It certainly feels like being loved, to be fed like that.
My mom gave Cyndie some special training on how to make the bread I grew up with. Talk about love!
Last night, while looking at the beautiful loaves she created, I suddenly noticed an insight about how my father must have felt about the bread mom baked for him throughout their life together. Mom told us stories about how she first learned to bake bread when they were newlyweds stationed in a fire lookout tower in Glacier National Park.
By the time I was born, over 10-years later, she had definitely mastered the craft. Her homemade bread was a staple in our kitchen. Dad was a stern scolder when we didn’t cut straight slices. We toasted it and fried it, and I recall Dad used a slice to soak up the juice on the meat platter when the menu involved steak.
My parents weren’t very demonstrative of their love, but looking back, those years of homemade bread reveal a pretty good version of it.
Now I am blessed with the same. It is overwhelmingly lovely.
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Superb Theme
Seriously, how could I consider any other auto manufacturer when the cars I have been driving for years come from a company that uses “Love” for their marketing theme?
Apparently, I was so smitten on Friday, I completely forgot to contact our insurance company about the lovely purchase. We decided to play it safe and leave the car in the garage until they can be reached on Monday.
It was a little anticlimactic, not driving the new ride right away, but we didn’t want to take any unnecessary risks.
I have a fear that my luck for avoiding collisions with deer so far in the time since we moved to the country could run out, now that I’ll be driving a new car. That’s just the way the odds seem to work sometimes.
I’m hoping I can rely on the love to keep deer from doing anything regrettable. I wonder if that could work with other drivers, too.
It’s a Subaru. Feel the love.
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Relative Something 