And I Wait....and Wait.....Swinging

Scooby -Doo fills the scene for three tired offspring. Little one is content gazing out window and reading board book in crib, husband is at work and all I have is....well, what I want; unscheduled moments of me. I have brought my notebook out to the deck, fixed myself an iced coffee, lit the candles and breathed in my environment. A cacophony of birds compliment the surround. All is present and ready - but my mind. It is adrift and I wonder why. It is cluttered and giving me a headache. These are moments I yearn for, beg for and take in with incredible advantage and tonight, I am "All dressed up with no where to go."

There is nothing to write and I apologize to those who will soon be getting a copy of this??? What *is* this?

I am spoiled and cynical, but grateful all the same.

My pendulum swings freely from it's weight above; it moves slowly, but with great weight and precision; once arriving and leaving within the same breath. Continuing without effort. Within the exactness of those moments, all is defined and never to be mimicked in style, taste, or condition- with risk of becoming out of sync. I am under.

I often take view from an aeral point; looking down, watching the maze unfold, keeping in time with each swing of the pendulum. Watching in moments, the convergence of time: my time - from past to present to future. Without control, you swing on the wire, grasping and breathing and watching your outstretched fingers melt away.

Some days, gravity plays games and a day, month or year disappears in a single swing of the pendulum. Other times, it pulls with great force and there is no fighting, just questioning of involvement and need.

The ubiquitous pendulum

So, I have found this niche and carved out another etch in history. Nothing significant, nothing short of boring and mundane - just writing a moment away as I swing upon my pendulum

Thanks for listening.

the tao of pooh

"While Eeyore frets ...
... and Piglet hesitates
... and Rabbit calculates
... and Owl pontificates
...Pooh just is.

This is one of my favorite books and one of my favorite passages. When I first read this book, I was caught by the first couple of lines and I knew I wanted to better my life. "Pooh just is..." This is a great place to be.

How can you get very far if you don't know who you are?
How can you do what you ought if you don't know what you have got?
And if you don't know which to do
Of all the things in front of you
Then what you will have when you are through
Is just a mess without a clue
Of all the best that can come true
If you know what and which and who

During this holiday season, when the majestic snow covers in beautiful simplicity; I take stock in the questions of Who and What and Why and Where -- but the snow slows this contemplation at times and calls me to be. Be. Just be. The snow knows no path, it does not question, it does not stress - it falls, it covers and we marvel at the perfection within. The perfection - a strong word to use, but nonetheless, adequate. Much like Pooh, the snow shifts and glides; lifts up and takes it's place within a spectrum of knowledge of it's destiny.

This is where I want to be.