Missing things . . .

Dear you,


For months here in Seagrove Beach, we had no rain.  We did have merciless, blazing sun and tourists grilling, setting the occasional fire due to flying embers.  Then finally, we got rain.  But we also got days of too much cloud cover and continual, depressing drizzle, see today.


My point is not to be The Weather Channel, but to contemplate missing something, then getting it, and then wanting it to go away.


Is this a shared trait or just part of my Goldilocks syndrome?  This gal only wanted “just right”.  But I wonder if after she found the “just right” she really enjoyed the gift, the thing she wanted/missed?

We are mysteries to ourselves.


I am a bit bored with the Seagrove Beach scene but never, ever, tire of the Gulf of Mexico.  When I drive a few miles in country to continue my search for a quiet, freestanding house that is “just right”, I can’t wait to get back close to the water.  Yesterday, returning from a showing and contemplation of a house purchase, as soon as I got close to Highway 30A (our coastal road), everything felt light.  Sort of just right.


But still . . . I am missing something like the rain during dry days.

Maybe I should aim for and accept “happiness” instead of vision-questing for perfection.  I guess happiness is not my idea of “just right”.  


And that remains a mystery to me.


Meanwhile, news of the California fires is on the television.  I see people on the run and leading scared horses to safety, wherever that may be.  Poor California, one of our paradise states, the place where everything is more than “just right”.  Even there, things burn.  And rain is not falling to douse the flames. 

Missing rain in California.  Missing something everywhere.


Maybe it’s time to go Buddhist and overcome desire, the constant striving for “just right”.  But then again, what would it feel like to simply BE?  I would probably miss the feeling of longing for that missing something.


Okay, enough reflection.

Time for a few pushups, playtime with Vivo cat, and then a big Subway sandwich for lunch.  No thinking, or missing, required.

XO

Joyce

Getting over . . .

Dear you,


What a week.  Meteor showers in the sky and another war on the ground.


My country abandoned the Kurds.

My president did this.  I cannot stop him.


Now, I hear on the news that there are proposed sanctions against Turkey for attacking the Kurds.  Proposed, being the key word.  My president creates chaos/death and then wants to act all heroic and stop what he started.  


Surviving all this (psychologically) requires a special kind of exuberance.  A kind of resistance to a newly minted “reality”.   When I feel how I need to feel in the face of all this nonsense, it is like this:

 Are you ready to jump?


My previous blog was all about taking a knee, in sorrow, in honor of what we are losing.  Now it is time to get up and GET OVER. The vaulter in the photo is about to get over that little bar.  He is looking up at the meteor shower, universal reality of time and beauty, and with the help of a pole (tools/technology/knowledge) and sheer force of will (exuberance) he will GET OVER.


As will we.

Keep the faith. 

Keep the exuberance.

JUMP!


Love,

Joyce

Take a knee . . .

Dear you,

Life in Trumpland . . . our POTUS is creating his own little kingdom, day by day blatantly confessing to aberrant behaviors.  And it is feeling like he might just get away with it, yet again.  It feels like a really depressing sports movie:


Setting: football stadium, sold out crowd, major game

Plot/conflict:  From the opening quarter to the last, one team is openly vicious They horse-collar, rough the kicker, rough the passer, tackle out of bounds, grab facemasks, and those are the softer actions.  They also spit in the referees’ faces, reach inside helmets and break noses, kick the “enemy” mascot, scream ‘fuck you” at fans, and when one brave ref finally makes a call and beckons the offender over for a conference, he says “YOU TALKIN’ TO ME?”  The ref backs down.  And the bad guys win the game.

Subplot:  The majority of the fans in the stands support the fouled team.  They have faith.  They suffer the blows, aghast at the lack of rules or decency.  They have hope.  “This can’t last much longer; good will triumph in the end.”  But it doesn’t.  They are simply shocked and worry about the future of the sport.

Climax:  Post-game press conference features the quarterback of the bad team.  He is righteously indignant when questioned about his team’s rouge behavior.  And he goes further.  “They were cheating, not us.  They always cheat.  We have a right to do whatever we need to win.  And besides, they’re not patriots.”


Fade out and roll credits.


So, I take a knee this day for something bigger than a football game.

Good luck out there.

XO

Joyce