"It is, moreover, only in the state of complete abandonment and loneliness that we experience the helpful powers of our own natures." ~C. G. Jung

Live Your Life

You're alive only once, as far as we know, and what could be worse than getting to the end of your life and realizing you hadn't lived it? 

Edward Albee

The Beauty in Song

I downloaded this song several months ago and sort of stashed it away in my iTunes library not really giving it much thought or "airtime".  I was perusing my library several days ago looking for what's there, and what's "not there" if you get my drift.  I always get inspiration listening to music, adhered by the poignancy of a artist's lyrics, the catchy melody, the crescendo of his/her voice as it skirts in and out of a particular meaningful verse.  Music like this often moves me to tears.  It doesn't necessarily have to be the lyrics, but can be the melody.  And so it is with this particular song that was immersed in one of my Country playlists.  I started listening to it and as it's words struck a chord with me (sorry for the play on words) and I found myself belting it out over and over and over in the car.  As you can see I've embedded it in this particular post.  As I often like to do, it's a song about reminiscing, not living there, but touching on those days gone by and the memories that are evoked from them.  I'm often saddled by those times and thinking of the one that got away, (or I let get away), and how the haunting verse in this song tattles me with ever so bittersweet memories.  He so beautifully sings of "the power of song when a song hits you right".  This is one of those song that "hits me right".  And it doesn't have to be a song, it could be greeting card verse, a lasting memory from a movie scene of one which embraces me and swaps places with me for now.  Yes, it's the forever sound, or vision of those sounds of a million dreams that lingers with me for all time.

"Seger was singin' words I could believe in
And "Mainstreet" was my street that night
So I called up Samantha and asked her the chance of
us runnin' out neath the moon light
Well shes not with me now, she can always be found
When I rewind the radio dial
and like it was then I feel her on my skin
and I'm back there for a while

[Chorus]
So I labor for hours cuz' I know the power
Of a song when a song hits you right
Poured my soul into stories of life
Hopin' someone will hear one tonight.

Maybe my voice
will cut through the noise
And stir up an old memory
And out of these piano keys
Comes the sound
The sound of a million dreams

[Verse 2]
My 18th summer I was a cocky up and come'er
Crankin' up "Born To Run"
Turn left out the drive with the pistons open wide
And I came back a prodigal son

My spirit was broken, she threw the door open
I love you not I told you so
When I hear "Momma Tried" I still break down and cry
And pull to the side of the road".

TWO YEARS

I fully and readily and quite unashamedly admit to being a "sap" when it comes to events or circumstances in life and my own for that matter that touch me.  Interestingly enough, I didn't used to be this way or maybe I didn't want to admit to it lest it label me as a "sissy".  What a revelation we often come to that identifies us in terms of our sentimentality.  It's not surprising to me that I tear up when it comes to the silliest of things; a Folger's coffee commercial where the girl's brother has returned from being overseas in the Army, any of the Hallmark commercials, and the coup de grace for the Super Bowl this year was the Budweiser commercial where the grown up Clydesdale recognizes his young trainer.  You might as well build the damn now to stop the flow of tears.  And so it goes with "anniversaries" of sorts with me, especially those reminding me of the death of either my parents or one of my pets.  And it is without hope or agenda that I acknowledge that it was 2 years ago this week that I lost my boy Dancer to cancer.  This particular picture was actually taken the day before he died, Feb. 12, 2011.  It seems like it was such a long time ago and then again not.  It seems as I've aged, when I reminisce on those recollections of past events they don't appear to have zipped by, but now as I think on Feb. 12, 2011. it feels like it has been a drudgery of time.  But in any event, I miss him each day as I do Piper who died 6 mos. later.  But again, I don't allow a self pity to hold me to some grave, but relish in the time I was so blessedly given to be with them.

He Be 4

If you're an animal person then this post will make perfect sense to you.  If you think a dog or cat should be relegated to sitting outside, chained to a post, or left to wander the streets in search of it's next meal, then you won't get it at all.  This is Kody (and his buddy-Riley) and he turned 4 to day.  Or, this is the birthdate that was given to him by the Aussie Rescue group that found him wandering somewhere in southern Missouri about two years ago.  Infested with heart worm, somewhat emaciated but definitely a boy who could only give anything but love.  Fortunately for me, I met him some 4 mos. after my special boy "Dancer" died after a 18mos. struggle against nasal cancer.  At the time I truly wasn't looking for another dog.  I still had two at home and was still very much in a state of terrible grief over Dancer's death.  While I know full well that when you lose a pet, you never can find another one that will be like the one you've lost.  You only replace that one with another that you'll love unconditionally and they will do likewise.  However, in Kody's case, something very unique has occurred and when I saw his picture on the Aussie Rescue site, I was taken aback by him and his very uncanny resemblance to Dancer.  And now that he has been living with us for the last 2 years, I often think of Dancer reincarnated.  I'm not sure if it's the "Aussie" personality or if Dancer is "floating" around near our house and speaking to Kody, telling him to do the same things he did when he was alive.  Kody immediately looks to chase squirrels or rabbits as he bolts out the back door.  He poops as many times a day as Dancer did; like 5 or 6.  And when he does, he poops in  the oddest of places....along the fence under the ivy, or in the far back part of the yard where the ornamental grass is, or next to the trash cans.  He likes to curl up next to me in bed and lay his head on my arm.  For a dog that hasn't had any formal obedience training, he is frightfully obedient to me.  As you can see from the pictures I've posted, his love for Riley (and my other two cats) is astonishingly the same.  Dancer would often clean Riley's ears.  There's the old saying, "when a door is closed, somewhere God opens a window" certainly rings true in this case.  As I lost Dancer, God certainly brought Kody to help me heal.  

Happy 4th Birthday Kody!!

A Very Unique Sense of Awe

Over at 1600 the other day, there was a ceremony of sorts that left me in reverence for the participant that was honored.  As our illustrious commander in chief ceremoniously placed our highest honor around this gallant and heroic warrior's neck, my thoughts drifted to what sense of unflinching strength of courage could this man possess.  The news media began to play some of the video that he and his fellow soldiers encountered as they attempted to secure their position against the enemy.  I really don't understand where men such as he and his unit for that matter obtain their audacious skills.  I understand that these men are professional soldiers.  They have been trained to perform under a reasonable amount of stress and combat operations.  But I truly fail to understand what extraordinary quality in this soldier's make up allowed him to defiantly risk his own life to save so many others.  I never had to serve in the Armed Forces.  I can recall eons ago (actually in 1971) as my college buds and I sat in our dorm rooms and listened to the announcement of the birth dates as the draft was reinstituted for the Vietnam war.  As we heard the first birth date called out, "Sept. 14th", and we looked over at Tom K. as this was his birthday, we all thought, would we actually go if our local draft board sent us our "walking papers", to Uncle Sam that is?  I can still recall the fear that came over me as the my thoughts and images of running through a rice paddy with M-16 bullets whizzing over my head literally evoked panic in my body.  And then to hear the account of this man's description of being totally surrounded by Taliban forces, being seriously outmanned and outgunned, and his actions that he performed to save the remainder of his company only gives me the greatest of respect for him and his fellow soldiers.  I'm somewhat embarrassed as I sit half a world away, sitting on my ass in my barcalounger, drinking a Dr. Pepper while munching on a bowl of popcorn and he was defending me and another 200 million or so Americans.  Whether you agree with our government's policies or disagree with the shameful amount of money that is being pumped into this war, the fact is that he and some 35,000 other men and women are risking their lives day in and day out.  I salute you, and thank you.

That Which We Seek

Soon the child’s clear eye is clouded over by ideas and opinions, preconceptions and abstractions. Simple free being becomes encrusted with the burdensome armor of the ego. Not until years later does an instinct come that a vital sense of mystery has been withdrawn. The sun glints through the pines, and the heart is pierced in a moment of beauty and strange pain, like a memory of paradise. After that day, we become seekers. ~Peter Matthiessen

It's Getting Still...Closer

"What an astonishing thing a book is.  It's a flat object made from a tree with flexible parts on which are imprinted lots of funny dark squiggles.  But one glance at it and you're inside the mind of another person, maybe somebody dead for thousands of years.  Across the millennia, an author is speaking clearly and silently inside your head, directly to you.  Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions, binding together people who never knew each other, citizens of distant epochs.  Books break the shackles of time.  A book is proof that humans are capable of working magic."

Carl Sagan

WHO CARES?

In some ways, I can't believe I'm actually "blogging" about this.  However, there's been enough "buzz" on the internet about a variety of these issues, I couldn't help but throwing my 2c in.  Maybe it's out of wisdom or a bit of senior discernment (which could actually be wisdom) and the fact that as I've aged, what used to be important to me no longer radiates any significant value in my life.  Or, maybe stuff, and this is what it actually is-stuff, see no visible, intrinsic, or moral value in it's effect on me.  I guess I actually challenge those people who find it of value to ask themselves, "are you going to be a better person for knowing this?" But we live in a technocentric world (I think I just made up a word) that ransoms us to certain capricious and modulated bits of information.  For me, I don't recall (sign of age) when I was younger if this kind of "stuff" ever intrigued me.  I'm speaking right now of the latest and most egregious use of "air" time....."Did Beyonce lip sync the Star Spangled Banner at the Inauguration?"  In light of my attempts to keep this blog at a family valued interest, I will simply say, "who cares?".  Although, you know what I'd really like to say.  I have to think of how slow the news day is at some of our nationally syndicated networks that they even give this consideration.  And, sort of shame on me for putting this on my blog.  But, I'm trying to make a point here in that I'm trying to get one to find out and learn about themselves the value of information that we feed upon and is it really that important.  My other "pet peeve" is the Kardashian family news.  It is abhorrent that the antics of this so called nuclear family is given attention.  However, Ryan Seacrest sees a good thing when he's got it, and the amount of money that is generated for his network, himself and this family is my opinion, sinful.  But again, when I say, "my opinion", that's what it is exactly.  I guess, I just wish more people would redirect their energy, interest, and adulation to more prodigious events.

IS IT REALLY NECESSARY?

"Ours is not the task of fixing the entire world all at once, but of stretching out to mend the part of the world that is within our reach". ~Clarissa Pinkda Estes

I must admit and somewhat cynically that I'm not one for pomp and ceremonial pageantry.  It is the thing of kings and artisans and in my estimation, terribly intemperate.  I often look at such experiences as to whose benefit are we doing this?  Certainly not mine and the amount of money that exceedingly goes into such events is shameful.  I'm mainly speaking of the Inaugural functions that have occurred in the last several days.  Yes, I know we've elected a President and yes, I know there's "supposed" to be ceremonies that are by right-traditional.  But, really, does one really care what designer Michelle chose to make her dress?  Or does anyone really care whose shoes she and her daughters are wearing?  I believe the sad thing is, the answers to these questions are sadly a resounding Yes.  I look at the amount  of money that has been spent on these ceremonies and look more disgustedly on who's footing the bill-Me and about 200 million other Americans.  I look at what we could have done with that money and how many homeless shelters could have been built, or how many other bills could have been paid and how much could have been cut into our so called Fiscal Cliff.  Mind you, I am being cynical here and  my wonderment in how we got ourselves into this trillion dollar debt is only answered by the exorbitant amount of government waste we spend each day.

Oh, by the way, its now been 27 days since Christmas, only 338 more days!!