Bio Moment – How the light gets in…

It’s a stunningly gorgeous day – well, at least to some people. Like, say… me!

The sun is out, in, out, in… out.

The breeze is cool.

Well, actually, the breeze is more like a wind. At times, it’s “knock over the chair you left on the patio” strong. We should know better than to leave furniture outside after the first snow but my husband goes there to smoke and enjoys it while he can. Otherwise, he’s huddled beside, beneath, betwixt whatever safe space he can find, away from the elements and people like me who can’t tolerate the habit. As a reformed smoker – and I never smoked that much (3 -5 cigs a day, tops)  – it hardly seems worth it to me. But I digress.

The clouds move like wishes off dandelions across the sky. Not lazily but quick, like *poof* … blown by an excited child. If I stop and look out my window – which I do, often – I see them for a minute or two, like an online video that’s been sped-up.

And then there are blank spaces of grey-blue… not bright blue, like in summer, but gray (See what I did there? I spelled grey both ways! LOL).

And for a moment, there’s nothing to see here, folks.

I’ve opened the window a little, enough that Hannah has figured out she can go up on the window sill and let the sun warm her fur while the air cools her face. The curtain billows as the winds rush between houses in the neighborhood.

Like I said, stunning!

And right in the middle of my reverie an Emergency Alert comes across my cell phone and scares the living poop outta me.

Talk about a reality check!

(It was only a test! No worries!)

And so, I was originally going to talk about a book today but instead decided to talk about how the light (aka the reality, the lantern, the truth) gets in.

Suddenly, all the clouds are gone and trash cans are flying down the street, along with papers, junk and thousands of leaves. We live by a park, I’m serious about the “thousands”.

I have a forest cabin wax melting (it’s divine, by the way. Michelle made it!) but it’s getting a bit too strong and needs a rest. I need a sweater, getting cold. The washing machine needs my attention. My heel is numb, my mouth tastes yucky – I had Cheerios for lunch. I wonder what’s happening with the impeachment stuff and my back hurts from sitting on this folding chair that is not meant for long-term use, especially for typing.

They told me my hand would flatten out but it hasn’t yet… it looks like I have a bigger lump than before, which… why did I get surgery again?

I’m sick of being depressed. I had plans that needed to be put on hold.

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving in the States and I’m nowhere near any of my family. I miss my people!

Christmas is coming. I’ve come to hate it. HATE. IT.

My tailbone hurts.

My heart aches.

And this is how I spiral down.

Everything looks different now. The sky is gray. The wind is howling. There’s trash in the street.

Hannah even got down from the window sill.

Oh, and that light? It’s just the sun. It comes up every day.

I wonder if that emergency alert hasn’t happened… if I’d still be mooning over the gorgeous day?

Something to consider. Don’t you think?

7 comments

  1. So, interface with the index is going to be personal and intuitive — an initial question and answer session prompts a counselor (initially myself) to search for specific recommended works, and those links are then sent to the inquirer.

    Right now we’re at @ 5,000 entries, looking at pronably as many again before we’re ready to work on public outreach materials, hopefully in six months or so depending on how well my health holds out.

    After that we plan to create a second tier to the whole index, enabling inquirers to triangulate selections themselves to their specific situations.

    Hopefully eventually we’ll have something we can put online and get out from being so much under, though I can easily envision this work lasting pretty much for the duration.

    Right now we are already offering our “Penny for Your Thoughts” service in which the inquirer describes all the wonderful things about someone or some group or effort or event that they love, and we turn their words into a gift poem which will make its recipient cry, love them back greatly, and put on their wall for all their friends to admire. By free donation, like everything else we’ll do.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Oh, apologize away! It’ll give me an excuse to write more poems! Ha ha ha!!

    No, really — your posts just wouldn’t be the same without your “but I digress”-ions. If you stopped on my account I”d never forgive myself!

    On another note, I just finally figured out what to do about your work vis a vis the Foundation for Poetic Justice. My problem’s been that I couldn’t figure out how to categorize individual posts under the system’s index because, essentially, we are self help and so are you.

    So here’s what I’m gonna do: Index your whole damn site! Instead of registering individual posts under their individual subjects I’m gonna create a new subject — “Self Help” — and recommend your whole damn site!

    A Foundation first! A Froundation Furth! A… 😊

    Liked by 1 person

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