Time to Go

“It’s time now to go

for everything must end.

I’ll see you soon I know,

knowing time is my friend.”*

📷 geralt on pixabay

All life is leavetaking.  Saying hello, only to say goodbye.  None of us escapes change.

The quote above is from a song, “Time is My Friend” that Julie Andrews sang at the end of her TV show in 1972-73.*  Those sentimental words have survived all these years in my mind and heart.

This year comes to an end.  Soon we’ll see what history has to say about it.  We welcome in the new year, again with many problems left over from last, but yet with the hope of embers glowing small, waiting to be stoked and stirred up again into a fervent bright fire of activism, urging humane and just means to work together- to unify -our hearts and our minds, to forge a more perfect union, using simple qualities of acceptance, understanding, fairness, honor, respect, selflessness, and love.

Time can be our friend.  Let’s treat it that way and quit wasting it on bickering and blaming.  Let’s move forward, together.   Happy New Year.     Theresa M

📷 MDevost on pixabay

*’Time is My Friend” by Julie Andrews and Leslie Bricusse 1972

Ho-Ho-Oh No!

Here we are rolling right into another holiday season.  Whether or not we want it, it’s happening.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could somehow just change the general public’s approach to all of this?  You know, tone down the consumer-focused masses, bring back the real holiday spirit of hope, happiness, goodwill, family/friend reunions.  All the good stuff without the pressure of gift-giving.

📷by annca on pixabay

Don’t get me wrong, gifts are great both to give and receive.  But why did we have to get to the point of so much consumerism.  I looked in my American Heritage Dictionary for the meaning of that word.  It pointed me to “materialism,” which noted “excessive regard for worldly concerns.”  Yeah, true dat!  Checked the word “consume.” Among the normal definition of purchasing goods, it noted “to squander,” and “to destroy totally.” 👀!!  Now doesn’t that define today’s holiday activities?

There is so much focus on the purchasing of goods, spending enormous amounts of money (mostly on credit) to the point of destroying one’s bank account (and peace of mind!).  For what?  Smiles, hugs, thank-you’s?

Seems to me simpler things, even more enjoyable ones, can be done to receive those smiles, hugs, and thank-you’s.  Also, any time of year, gift-giving/receiving is appreciated, I’m sure, by anybody.

📷 Joyce Meyer Ministries

The little things count: the surprise gifts and courtesies, helping a friend with a chore, donating something to a charity, sending a picture of silliness.  Any day.  Without having to shop for the big stuff (big as in large, or big as in price), we can give in a huge way.  And will likely receive the same:  a smile, a hug, a thank-you.

Wouldn’t it be sweet to be excited about the holidays approaching because you get to decorate, listen to fun music, see family/friends, share meals, visit animal shelters or nursing homes, spread a little cheer with tiny packages of sentimental keepsakes or pictures.  And give the big things to those truly in need.

Wouldn’t it be more special if holiday times (Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year) was truly about the spirit of hope, happiness, goodwill, and sharing with anyone and everyone around you?

Happy holidays:  Merry Christmas!  Happy Hanukkah!  Happy Kwanzaa!  Happy New Year!  Oh, Happy Day!       Theresa M.

📷 by Larisa-K on pixabay

Snow Woes

Where is that snow?  It’s been so cold lately.  I hear “everywhere else” is getting it.  Some are even having blizzards.  Well, I don’t want that, just some snow. Enough to cover the ground, the trees.

I love to see the sunlight reflecting off the snow.  So bright - snow white (oh, pardon me, that name is taken).  But the glistening!  If you watch carefully, you’ll see tiny little rainbows in the snowflakes.  So magical indeed!

I don’t want snow on the roads or sidewalks.  Too bad we can’t just put in an order for where we want it, and for how long.  Silly idea.  Then people would be arguing about snow on their side of the yard.  It’s much easier to just complain about the weather in general.  Unlike an order at a restaurant, you can’t just re-order it, you just keep complaining.

I do like snow.  Not for toooo long though (oh, I better be careful what I wish for!).   I’m sure we’ll get some in time.  I’m not complaining though.  Well, maybe I will about the cold.  But you gotta have cold to have the snow.  Gee, this weather is stubborn.

Happy sleigh rides to all!       Theresa M

         *********************************************************

                         Let It Snow! or Whatever    ⛄⛄

Ah, winter!  With its cold, cloudy days

some filled with snowflakes, some simply grays.

We bundle up and burrow in our warm huts and houses.

Some may drink a nip too much despite alarms from spouses!

Board games re-play for the bored and the grinch

To pass hours of day and night in such a cinch.

Or watch Mother Nature, the squirrels are getting cheeky

As they pop in and pop out, oh how very sneaky!

📷 by Jill111 on pixabay

A warm hot cocoa awaits me at bedtime

As do the cuddly kittens, oh so simply sublime!

Thus for all you summertime souls who dread 

the wind and the sleet

Await your turn for the seasons to complete.

Warmth wends its way under covers of quilts

So high they stack up, I might need some stilts!

Alas, I burrow in with my cocoa and kittens

Oh my goodness!  I left out my mittens!

Theresa M

📷 by Jill111 on pixabay

me and my snowman

Calm the Chaos

📷 Full Moon Arakawa by Hasui Kawase (1883-1957)

Just for today I will allow the world to be as crazy as it is.  I will let the breaking news carry on as if everything they say is really important.  Just for today I will let the shoppers compete for the bargains, spending so much more than they think they’re saving.

📷 mediamodifier on pixabay

Just for today I will read and write in the calmness of my home, while chaos ensues at every corner of the world.  I will sip my coffee while contemplating on the peacefulness within, as people with their holiday visitors argue with and annoy one another.

Just for today I will recline in my chair with the comfort of cats, a dog, and a blanket, and let the highways and roads clutter and clatter, with folks honking and yelling unfavorable epithets.

Just for today I will listen to music, calm and soothing, as the world carries on its noise of news and views, of booming and dooming, with arguments and agitations.

Just for today - a very fine day -  I retreat to a peaceful place I visit deep within where I am safe, happy, and calm.  Just for today can be any day, any time, just about anywhere.  Just let it be for today.   Theresa M

📷 Full Moon Magome by Hasui Kawase (1883-1957)

Dreams from the Subway

Do you remember what you dreamed last night?  Other nights?  Mostly they’re hard to remember.  Awaken and the dream breaks into fragments, then scatter in the wind.  Dreams are weird.

📷 geralt on pixabay

Although there are many theories as to why we dream and what their meanings are, I tend to think they’re pretty much individualistic in interpretation, and are borne of several images you’ve come across either that same day or from past times.

That is to say our brain processes so much “stuff” that it can’t put much attention on each and every thing that it takes in.  Do you ever come across something, say, an interesting sign along the highway that captures your attention, but you’re in the middle of a conversation with someone so -poof!- you forget it?  Then the same billboard sign comes up in a dream that night, in a situation having nothing to do with your conversation you had with your friend when you first saw it.  Just like that.  Various fragments merge into a dream, all vying for attention.

📷 succo on pixabay

Throughout the day many people, objects, words, even memories (aha! that’s why the past comes up) all travel through the roads of your eyes, ears, thoughts, hopping aboard a train (yeah, like a train of thought!).  But they don’t all take the same train.  Some take a different route, somewhere in the brain (subconscious part I guess) and get dropped off there, with or without baggage.  Let’s call it the subway.

You go on throughout your daily tasks, not even thinking about the passengers in the subway.  After all, you’re dealing with the here and now, today.  Go to work, drive past your old house, go to the store, read, watch a little TV.

If you’re lucky, by the end of the day you’ll be sleepy and go to bed.  Ah, sleep!  Nectar for the weary soul.  Next thing you know someone is telling you not to go in there (an old house) that you travelled miles to get to.  You start awakening, beginning to realize you are dreaming.  The more awake you become you try to focus on your dream…”I was walking dark streets, near (forgive me) a railroad...I see a house I used to live in but it is rearranged and I can’t get in it...My old friend Greg is mad at me and tells me to stay away…”

📷 enriquelopezgarre on pixabay

Fuzzy scenes now.  Blinking your eyes, you realize it’s only 4AM.  You had a dream. You’re wondering:
 “Why was I walking in the dark, railroad nearby, from a place in my teens?  Why toward a house I lived in as an adult? Why the heck is Greg mad at me?  And why does he look like that Nationals’ ballplayer?”  Hahaha…

Why?  Who the heck knows!  Images from the past always come back to haunt you in dreams:  the path, the railroad tracks, the old house, old friends.  Recognition of recent events:  the Nationals played in the World Series.

This is a variation of some of my recent dreams, since I really can’t remember the sequence, but even looking at these bits and pieces, I can make up my own interpretation:

I’ve come down a long, dark, lonely path (image I remember as a teen once walking home in the dark - spooky); made a home for myself as an adult, moved on from that house (which in reality I pass by once in a while and it is near railroad tracks).  Although I miss that place sometimes, I can’t return.  Lost Greg too (a friend I haven’t seen in years).  Wish I could see him again.  He tells me no. 

The Nationals ballplayer?  He likely triggered this whole thing!  I saw him on TV recently, thought he looked a lot like my old friend Greg, then I forgot about it, or so I thought.  Well apparently the ballplayer got on the train with my baggage and waited around in the subway till he could visit me in my dreams!

Dreams are so weird. 😕😕😕   

📷 Kellepics on pixabay

Theresa M

ps - Sweet Dreams to you anyway!!  😌💤

Poetry Compilation: Night Sky Moods

                                   Nightfall      
                                           
    Crickets signal the             Pinpoints pop up  
    nightfall                              in the skies.
    I hear them call                  Now the fireflies
    Birds murmur their             blink signals across
    final peeps                         the lane,
    ready to sleep.                   scenting the rain.                       

📷Fireflies at Ochanomizu 1880 
by Kobayashi Kiyochika Wikimedia commons

                       Clouds drift over the half moon
                       bringing showers soon.
                       An owl sends out a warning, 
                       long night till morning.                    
                       -Theresa M                          

   
 ☁☁☔🌌🌘☁☁

             

📷 Supernova Explosion by NASA, 1987

   Starlit Wonder

And all the dreams I’ve dreamed before

that stretch out into the skies,

each hanging as stars -

   an intricate web -

reach out and extend to connect

to a dream that is yours.

Persistent desire feeding the fire;

The glow of the night sky -

   from northern lights?

   from lightning bright?

   or the ecstasy of 

   a new creation

   of starlight?

   -Theresa M

🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

📷 Turkkinen on pixabay

                                                        
                               Moonglow

Silently the moonglow lays a glimpse of light
over the hills and valleys…
a sheet of snow reflects the white light--
   faintly, softly.

Few houses scattered like mirages of dream-like 
safety, warmth.
A light or two here and there casts like yellow candlelight
praising the moonglow.

This highway I drive leaves me no justice
to stay and watch the miracles of night.

Onward I go with the flashes of these dreams--
images my mind longs to partake of--
Cool, blue horizons with stars casts like lights.
But no match for the moonglow
on the snowy hills and valleys
that reflects the holy one.

Be at peace.

               - Theresa M

📷  cocoparisienne on pixabay

Oh, Grow Up!

We truly do understand a lot more as we get older.  I can’t imagine how life would be much different if I had all this knowledge as a teenager.  Choices would have been made way different from what they were.  Or would they?

Maturity with knowledge is different from just plain knowledge.  One can learn, study, read, know a lot of stuff but still not be mature.  Being mature comes from the continuous choices of learning from experiences, whether it be one’s own or from others.🏫

Just take a look at all the fine examples we see everyday.  For instance, look at college-educated people in government.  🗽Their life experiences vary.  Have they learned to be mature?  Or do they still call others names?  Do they bully?  Do they disrespect people on a regular basis?  How about accepting responsibility for one’s actions?  Do they acknowledge mistakes; apologize?  Do they put others’ needs on a level of importance or manipulate their situation to benefit from the less fortunate?


Many, many questions can be asked here, but it doesn’t take too many answers from those questions to show how one has either grown in maturity by their interactions with others, or remained childish and, well, downright immature.  Knowledge is a wonderful thing, but so is insight to bring about personal growth.💡

With experience added to knowledge is where maturity can develop.  But not on its own.  One has to acknowledge the consequences and take continuous action to attend to the internal problem.  Internal, because blaming (external) does not help.  Blaming, name-calling, disrespecting - all of that - just leaves one pretending there is not a thing wrong with one’s self:  “nothing to see here folks...look how stupid and ignorant and mean and unjust and blah-blah-blah everyone else is!” 👀

That kind of attitude and posturing leaves one in the dark.  It takes a lot of courage to take an honest look at one’s self and acknowledge flaws.*  Acknowledge.  Then accept.  And make a choice to work on it.  Growing up, becoming mature, isn’t easy.  But it’s the “ripe” thing to do! 😀
Choose wisely.       Theresa M.


*taking a self-inventory is a very helpful tool. It is step 4 of the 12-step programs (AA, NA):
“Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.”  

It's Always Time

There is no time...here’s where one fills in the blank:  “like the present” “left for you” “left.”

Time is whatever you make it to be.  A lot.  A little.  Long ago yet far ahead.  What is our personal trajectory of time?  Whose timeline do I fit in or overlap?  Who has gone before me?  Who will go after?

📷 Fireflies at Ochanomizu 1880by Kobayashi Kiyochika Wikimedia commons

Where did time go?  Nowhere.  It was, is and always will be.  Everyone measures it differently.  Experience it in varying intensity.  Time is neither rich nor poor.  It is neither good or bad.  It is intertwined with all people, all creatures on the earth.  It exists among the planets and stars as they interact with us.  Consider the moon, the tides.

Time plays with us like a breeze, moving about the leaves, rustling them down from the trees.  I hear you leaves.  I see you trees.  But time itself is silent and unseen.

📷  by geralt (Gerd Altman) pixabay

Unless you consider aging as time seen.  The wrinkles under my eyes, the taut skin on my hands.  The gray hair blending with natural colors I’ve worn through previous time.  Is that the same as seeing time?

Hearing babbling babies start talking words, then sentences, then whole conversations, as they grow up and grow on.  Is that the same as hearing time?

Can you feel time?  Taste it?  Smell it?  Perhaps in a sense, yes.  Feeling the weariness after years of labor, ache.  Tasting a fruit you haven’t had since childhood - flashback of picking peaches in an orchard.  The smell of a logfire, instant picture of grandmother’s house in the countryside.


We do sense time.  Yet can we make sense of time?  What did my time on earth mean?  Will I ever know?  Will I ever understand?

I guess we’ll see.  In time.    Theresa M

Future Forecast

Elijah Cummings, Representative of Maryland’s 7th District, died at age 68 on October 17, 2019.   He is someone I admire.  He was a strong supporter of civil rights, voting rights, and on maintaining protection of our Constitution.  He was the son of a sharecropper.

In the past year I watched him remain strong and outspoken despite his failing health.  One of my favorite quotes of his was from the Committee of Oversight and Reform (which he chaired) Cohen Hearing on February 27, 2019:

“When we’re dancing with the angels,
the questions will be asked, in 2019
what did we do to make sure we kept our
democracy intact?  Did we stand on the
sidelines and say nothing?”

📷 by geralt on pixabay

 Using that futuristic position to look back on our lives can either be unsettling or it can be of service.  Look at yourself in future years, or imagine the next generation pondering over our historical behaviors.  Or, as in Rep Cummings’ statement, consider how you will appear among “the angels,” standing before God himself, trying to explain yourself.

Take time now to look closely at what we are doing to ourselves, to each other, and towards all people.  The effects of our action or inaction ripple away further out than we can even imagine.  Not that we are in control of everything.  But we share in the control, we share with our influences, we share in developing outcomes.  Thus we are creating the future:  for improvement or destruction?

 Will the future be peaceful, with equality among us; will we have law and order, along with respect and justice?  What each of us does today does matter in transforming the outcomes for tomorrow.  You see, even the son of a sharecropper, Elijah, knew that power.  And he acted with that power until the day he died. 
Rest in peace, sir.    Theresa M

Elijah Cummings 1951-2019

*Elijah Cummings photo from his twitter account

Remind Me I Was Here

📷 Walnut Grove Cemetery by Theresa M

A delightful twitter account named Canadian Cemetery History (@CaCemeteryHist) sent a reminder that walking through a cemetery in the fall can be tranquil.

I really appreciated that reminder.  I have gone in previous autumns to visit cemeteries.  The colorful leaves and crisp air blended in so well with strolling in the sunlight, visiting mostly strangers laid to rest.  There was a sense of comfort, of acceptance, that we all have this in common:  We live.  We die. That’s okay.


But will anyone be around to visit?  It’s one thing to be alive and not have anyone visit once in awhile.  But to die, be buried, and left behind.  How sad.  No one to remember you.

📷 Riverview Cemetery by Theresa M

So even visiting gravesites of those you don’t know can be a heartwarming experience.  For you.  And for the dead person.  Remembrance - just read their name, say it aloud if you like, and let that spirit know you just wanted to say hello.  A little act that will likely brighten up their heart in the heavenly realm.


      👀  👀  👻  👻  🌙  🌟

📷 by yarmouthandacadianshores.com

Then later, when the sky is clear at night, look up into the stars and see your new friend smile.  Thanks for keeping in touch.          Theresa M

Erasing American Ancestry

If you could picture each and every person on earth as a pencil sketch--sure with colorful pencils to brighten everything--how would a giant eraser be used to change our lives?

📷 by Evan Amos Public Domain Wikipedia Commons

With all the talk about immigration, it has me imagining what it would look like to go back to change the past situations with today’s political proposals.

(Note:  We definitely need immigration reform.
 We definitely need to have people seek it legally.
 We definitely also need to treat all people humanely.)

Well, what would it look like?  Maybe many of today’s descendants wouldn’t be here.  Irish, Italian, French, German, Jews, Japanese, Chinese, etc arrived with very little, and maybe few skills.  But they had sheer determination to work.  And work hard they did.  How fortunate they were given a chance.  America needed immigrants then and still need them.  But apparently the chance to become an American is being removed by hard line politicians who don’t see many of them as even being human.

📷 by geralt on pixabay

Thus, erase this current generation, erase the kids, the grandkids, the parents, back to the grandparents.  Erase in the Northeast--such a heavily populated area.  Erase down to Florida, sweep toward Louisiana, which had many French, German and Spanish settlers before it was a state.  Many of the French there were kicked out of Canada  by the British.  Can they stay?

On to Texas where Native Americans and Mexican people have lived long before white settlers, so don’t erase them.  They do belong.  Erase on towards the West--California on up and back around through the plains, sparse-populated areas.  Erase the people, but again not the Native Americans all throughout North America.  There, give them their land back instead of shoving them into reservations.

Erasing now toward middle America and down to the South again, where slaves were brought against their will; their generations deserve to stay as they were born here.  But those immigrants--maybe not so much by the standard of today’s policies/proposals.  Erase.

📷 by kalhh on pixabay

Lots of erasures.  Wipe off the residue.  Clean off the map.  How far back do we go in generations with these policy proposals?  What does America look like?  Who are the people here?  Native Americans.  African Americans.  Some French, Spanish, German settlers--some from Acadia in Canada.  We have handfuls of people brought from China to help with the railroads.  They worked hard.  We have a handful from European countries--potato famine folks for one--but what can they do?  They failed their farms.  No Irish here.  No Italians.  No more Germans.  No Jews.  Just enough here, unless they can prove they don’t need a handout; unless they can prove they will work hard, pay taxes, and agree to receive little compensation; because the rich want as much as they can get.

📷 by Capri23auto on pixabay

But the rich weren’t willing to do the hard work or get their hands dirty.  Nope, they needed more cheap labor.  Oh, okay.  Bring in a few more immigrants.  Got to fill these jobs.  Got to make more money.  Got to be richer.  Oh, I see how that works.

Where will we go from here?           Theresa M. 


my tweet on Aug 13, 2019:
“America was never meant to be an all-white nation.  The greed and opportunities of many European settlers forced their hand against people of color.  Each generation seeks a better way of life.  The norm is naturally multi-cultural and much more diverse, white not so much.”

Fall Preview

📷by geralt on pixabay

Back in the old days I walked ten miles...wait, that’s not my story.  Back in the semi-old days as a kid I always looked forward to the Fall Preview edition of TV Guide.*  I would map out which of my favorite shows came back, and what new ones looked interesting.  I gauged the conflicts in scheduling.  Before I had a VCR there had to be a decisive winner, couldn’t watch them both!

I remember TV Guide changing with the times, trying to fit in with the additional cable channels.  The big turning point I did not like was when they went to “magazine” style; no more handy book-size editions.  Lots of flash and splash but the ease in reviewing was gone.  Well, I dropped my subscription and never went back.  But now I do appreciate their online presence for information.
Some people have kept their TV Guides for years.  If in good condition, it probably is worth some money.  I used to keep the Fall Guides, but they’ve fallen by the wayside.

TV programming has changed a lot.  I don’t even watch that much on network TV (and I dropped extended cable--too expensive).  Netflix and Amazon Prime offer some good stuff, and I wait for them to pick up shows from networks; that way I can be the one to schedule viewing.

📷 by Clker-Free-Vector-Images
pixabay

But this fall I do look forward to NBC “The Good Place*” and CBS “NCIS*.” One show is fairly new, this being it’s final (4th) season; the other starting its 17th season (ps--I hope they bring back Ziva for real!).

TV has been a popular pastime all my life.  Pick and choose your favorites, folks.  But remember:  📺 viewer discretion is advised. 😉     Theresa M.


                                                               

📷 by geralt on pixabay

* Twitter links:                                                                                  

TV Guide Magazine: 
https://twitter.com/TVGuideMagazine?s=17
The Good Place:
https://twitter.com/nbcthegoodplace?s=17
NCIS: 
https://twitter.com/NCIS_CBS?s=17

also...lots of good old info: 
SilverAge Television: 
 https://twitter.com/SilverAgeTV?s=17

and remember PBS is always awesome!!!!!  
https://twitter.com/PBS?s=17

Remembering

To remember a sadness, a hardship, a loss of our own or of many people, is not always an easy thing to do.  But if we don’t allow remembrance, we won’t be allowing a natural, necessary process of healing.  I don’t even want to mention closure.  I think closure is something one may never achieve.  Who in the world gets to the point of “closing” off a part of themselves?  Our experiences define and shape us.

A process of healing makes more sense.  Consider it akin to a wound on the skin.  Very painful at first, but treating it, watching over it, maybe covering it up sometimes--but not too often--is necessary to move life forward.  Healing is a process that takes time; sometimes it is excruciatingly slow.  Maybe a scar will emerge after the healing.  A scar left as a reminder; it will always be a part of us.

Thus, remembrance will be a teacher, a guide.  It will reflect a measure of how much we’ve grown.  Hopefully remembrance will always bring a deep gratitude for what we have now, what we have had in the past, and what we’ve learned.  Remembrance of others’ pain and loss and acknowledging your concern for them is a part of everyone’s healing too.

We remember in order to move forward.  Healing is a welcome, necessary process in becoming whole.       Theresa M

Home

As I turn a certain corner I always glance over
there to my old homestead.
It’s where I dealt with demons and shame,
and finally released the bricks of blame.

There I struggled to find the hope
of reasons to hold onto life
as I began to understand my past,
forgiving all and allowing myself to try again.

I cleaned up my slate in some ways,
with just the dust of old deeds diving down -
left as a reminder of how easily
problems could rise up again.

But even more, that house holds
the moods and memories
of who I once was
and whom I have become.

As I turn the corner I always glance over
there to my old homestead.
A wave of sadness engulfs me
remembering all I left behind.

The past was a part of me for so long.
It took a lot of energy to change.
Even now I am tired and weak…
I go to my new home with hope
of getting some restful sleep.

Theresa M.   

Reality...For Real?

Who in the world’s reality are we living in? So much drama, stories of which we constantly need to fact-check.  But check with whom?  How is anyone to be trusted?

📷 by geralt on pixabay

There cannot be only one source for information.  Even that one source needs cross-checked.  How do we get someone who is fair, honest, who presents a balance of what all sides say/do, and then what is true about all that?

I read something, it seems stupid or upsetting.  Is it real?  I don’t know.  I read another opinion, another source.  Well, seems so real.  I see with my own eyes the person saying what is stupid or upsetting.  But is it an edited, out-of-context version?  Further searches for a fuller context.  Maybe then “Oh, yeah.  That’s stupid!”  Then I’m on it.  Or maybe I decided, “Oh, yeah. That’s not what they meant.”  Then I’m on that.

📷 by geralt on pixabay

Everyone has their own opinion.  But I’ll look through a few sources before I believe.  Maybe I’ll still have doubts, perhaps because I don’t want to believe.  Sometimes the truth is just so awful, or maybe absurd!  In the end, I must learn to trust myself.

If one is going to speak up against that which is awful, or wrong, or unfair, or racist, or dangerous,  isn’t it always a good thing to seek the truth, or at least listen to all sides?  I think maybe more needs to be taught in schools about learning to be rational, to be impartial, to think through information provided.  Too many people, with our age of instant info, have pre-set notions, beliefs, ideas (I’ve got a few of my own) and have their minds made up.

📷 by john hain on pixabay

 But to grow continually as a person, one must practice such virtues as understanding, kindness, tolerance, faith, forgiveness, compassion.  Put aside the hate altogether.  Put aside at least harsh judgement, old biases, stereotypes, and platitudes.  Put values of fairness, respectfulness, and goodwill up front.  And yes, keep a sense of humor.  It helps retain sanity.  At least it does in my reality.           Theresa M

“Oh reality, it’s not for me and it makes me laugh,

but fantasy world and Disney girls

I’m coming back.”*

*"Disney Girls" sung by Captain & Tennille /1975 album Love Will Keep Us Together
written by Bruce Johnston

School Rules!

Yellow buses. Back-to-school sales.  Clothing discounts.  Sighs and smiles, depending on how one looks at this time of year.

📷 by UzebekIL on pixabay

Back to school starts on different dates for different states.  Some parents are relieved - kids do need structure.  Some kids will be happy too, whether they like the social aspect of learning - or both.  Some kids will dread it - whether it’s the social aspect or learning - or both.  Same difference. 😁🤷

Even years after attending school, and for that matter college, I still enjoy looking through back-to-school supplies displays:  the choices of pens, notebooks, folders.  And backpacks.  Oh yes, lunchboxes too (do they make those anymore?)

Being poor I could never get a lunch box.  I don’t remember having a backpack either until college.  There were also expensive notebooks I would love to have had.  But nonetheless I did get basics - pens, pencils, erasers, paper folders, crayons, colored pencils, and later years highlighters.

📷 ringsphoto on pixabay

Not only was there an array of beauty in the colors, but the smell of new supplies still take me back to the good memories of school.  Freshly sharpened pencils with a whiff of wood scent.  Opening a new box of crayons - mmmm - wax colors raising their pointed ends, calling for me to color with them. Ha!                                                   
If I was able to get a new outfit or two, that was always both exciting and awkward, wearing it the first day, getting used to the feel of the crisp fabric.  And the shoes!  Ouch!  After a summertime of mostly bare feet or flip-flops, there were always those darn blisters to deal with when school started.

But there I was in a new outfit, carrying my plain notebook with colorful folders and ruled paper.  If I was lucky I would also have the vinyl zipper bag to contain the pens, pencils, erasers and whatever else I could stuff in there.   

The books would be assigned from the school.  I do love the smell of books.  I always enjoyed trips to the school library to get more books.  I loved to learn and I loved to read.  Still do.

📷 geralt on pixabay

Being shy, I was not particularly happy to be in school around people.  But I was glad to be there for learning.  Teachers liked me and were good to me.  I did have a few friends, but was never popular, never in a club, or a study group.  There were times I missed a lot of days but despite that I got good grades.  For years I would keep my notes and information I learned from each grade.  The material is gone now, but the education remains.

📷 by Skitterphoto on pixabay

I don’t know why school supplies make me happy.  Maybe they were like friends during those early years as I struggled to learn to socialize.  We all get attached to things, even though many are fleeting.  Perhaps the supplies are symbolic of something within me.  I feel a sense of control, of having a bit of power.  I can use these tools to gain knowledge.  These tools are instruments to attain some worth, to find a place of belonging.

📷 ringsphoto on pixabay

A sense of empowerment.  Wow!  Thinking of this has me wondering what it would have been like to be a teacher.  Teachers are powerful.  They have a strong impact over so many lives.  How unfortunate they are not remunerated adequately for their services.

So here we are in these times - today - back to school. 

📷 Dystopos on flickr

How many supplies do kids need now, when there is so much technology in use?  Guess some of the tools will remain despite computers.  I think that is a good thing.  There is something much more deeper and stronger in what is gained when you write with a pen or pencil on paper, than when you type on a keyboard.  It’s as if there is a harmonious connection among the written tool, the paper and our inner selves, a collective unconsciousness of sorts.  Maybe it even goes back to cave men drawing on the rocks!  An awareness of being among others, animals, nature...a whole world.

📷 Alexas_Fotos on pixabay

Writing this down gives me a sense of being.
I am here.
 (Rinnnnnngggg!!!!)
Oh, there’s the bell.  Gotta go!  😉
Theresa M