When I was a child, my parents made coffee with a percolator. Water would bubble up and mix with coffee grounds. In time the combination was ready to drink. I often think of my mind as a percolator. I see words, images or feel things and whatever that small minutia is, it percolates through the miasma that is my mind and low and behold a thought takes form. If I’m lucky that form will become an idea and continue to grow and to develop into something tangible. Sometimes it dies on the vine but the essence of what it was remains to call to me with something else further down the line. Welcome to my world.
With everything that is happening on this planet I think there’s a great deal of percolating going on. Things seem to bubble like a volcano and eventually they erupt. There’s such violence in the world and it always seems to happen in a split second and then I can’t help wondering if the reason, the source of the issue has been percolating below the surface until it explodes. And then we have violence and anger and pain.
Why can’t love, kindness and compassion be what is bubbling beneath the surface? I know they are there. I know they exist. We see examples of it every single day and yet nobody wants to talk about it. It should be blaring from the headlines “GOOD PEOPLE CARE!” We have so many mental health issues where people are suffering. Would they suffer any less if they knew how much people cared? I’ve never made any bones about the fact that I am quite naïve. I want to believe in the good, I do believe in the good. But some days it is really difficult.
More and more I am seeing that on social media people are recognizing what needs to be done and stepping up to the plate. People are sharing the goodness that happens around them. I know that it helps me. It tells me not to despair of the human condition. But there are days…
But today is not one of them. It is pouring rain outside; it is cold and gray. But there is sunshine in my world because of the blogs that give me such comfort. I would name them but I follow quite a few. They make me laugh and they make me cry in all the best ways. I guess today I just wanted to say thank you to all the wonderful people I read. I am so pleased I have met you. Be well, be safe, be happy. And I’ll see you tomorrow…
Image from Amazon.ca
I would like to be remembered for a sunny disposition even on a rainy day.
Inspiration is an imaginative leap of faith.
Ideas come from idle hands.
Perfection is something to aspire to, not brag about.
If today the world is your oyster, tomorrow check for a pearl.
Just because I can, doesn’t mean I should.
Another Blast from my Past. It made me smile when I reread it. I hope it makes you smile and remember fondly those in your past.
When I was a child the world was my oyster and I was always shucking for pearls. I had a wonderful childhood. Unfortunately I have noticed that some of my memories are starting to fade. That is a very sad thing. But you have to understand not everything I did as a child or youth deserves to be remembered. Trust me there are quite a few things I would prefer to forget. I would if I could but I can’t so I won’t.
We have reached that time of year when we celebrate our parents. (Something we should do every day kids!) I find that I’m forgetting things. I forget the way it felt when my father used to pick me up when I fell asleep in the car. I was a small child and I would inevitably snooze in the back seat. I would be half awake when he picked me up and I can remember nuzzling against his chin. He smelled so safe, so warm. But I can’t remember how his arms felt. It was more than 50 years ago and we are not computers. Some things will fade.
As I was growing up my mother always made me my favourite meal on my birthday. It was seafood crepes with a pecan pie for dessert. I’ve forgotten what the crepes tasted like. I’ve had other crepes since but I haven’t had hers in probably 25 or 30 years. Probably haven’t thought about them in that amount of time either.
But on Mother’s Day and Father’s Day I remember. I remember them every day. And I miss them. We all have had people in our lives that we miss when they are gone. I believe that my mother is sitting on my shoulder with a grin on her face saying: “tsk tsk tsk, do you really want that second cookie?” I can see my father out of the corner of my eye: hands in his pockets, wearing a knit vest, smiling and shaking his head “damn kids”. We were loved. I have not stopped loving my parents since I lost them. And I haven’t really lost them as they are a part of me. They made me, they helped me become the person I am today. Thanks Mom, thanks Dad. I love you.
A little agitation today could mean a pearl of great price tomorrow.
The first step can be terrifying but the next one can be exhilarating!