Thrown for a Loop

Back in early November, I had settled into what I thought was a pretty decent routine.  Reading, walking, hiking, meditating, and exploring my hobby of photography.  That routine came crashing down when the house I was living in became contaminated and I had to make a hasty retreat.*

My patterns are still in a state of disruption.

Writing has become a bit secondary to solving the housing problem.  But I did finish a series, at the invitation and encouragement of my blogging friend George,** about marriage and divorce.  And that too left my head spinning a bit.  I was, after all, revisiting some very painful memories.  Basically, these memories, as well as the present situation, all involved a theme in common – the loss of home.

And I mean “home” in the more intangible sense of that word.

Not just a place to stay, but a feeling.  A feeling of sanctuary.  Of warmth.  Of love.

Loss of “home” is not the same as moving out of a place we’ve “occupied.”  It’s abandoning a sense of security, of integration, of sentiment.  A home is where there is a heart connection.  It becomes part of you.  An extension.

Usually, this extension of ourselves is tied up with another individual or a family.  It’s a communal nature.  What makes a “house” a “home” is not the decor.  Not the pictures hanging on the wall, or the color scheme of the bathroom fixtures.  It’s an amalgamation of the feelings of warmth and protection and mutual love.

Quite an introduction there, I guess.

Intro to what?  You know how I like to switch gears. 🙂

Time for Review ?

Time is slipping away, and as we approach the end of another year it’s time for people to engage in reflection, projection, and resolution.

Some are already referring to this as being the end of a decade.  And they’re glad for it, calling it one big dumpster fire.

To others, it’s the end of another year of tumultuous political machinations.  Or perhaps, a role call of all those who died, famous and infamous, loved and unloved.

Others find victimization, trauma, sadness, and are truly heartbroken.

And to others still, it has been just another amalgamation of meaningless seconds ticking away on the clock of the Universe.

The Loneliest . . .

Photo: A Bluebell somewhere in Wyoming.

Those Who Know . . .

“Because When I Read . . . “

I have to admit, I stole this quote from Victoria Ray.  She included in one of her posts recently, but I absolutely loved the words.  And I played and played on the photo editor to try to get them to stand out on the background pic, so here is the quote in case you’re having a hard time reading it:

“Because when I read, I don’t really read… I pop a beautiful sentence into my mouth and suck it like a fruit drop, or I sip it like a liqueur until the thought dissolves in me like alcohol, infusing brain and heart and coursing on through the veins to the root of each blood vessel.”     Bohumil Hrabal

The lilies, by the way, were growing wild along the trail – an astonishing lush forest in an arid, high desert climate.  Amazing !

I guess I was a little stubborn about my choice in pictures for this post as I could have picked another to contrast the text better, but I loved the symbolism here – beautiful lush flowers, lush forest, in the high desert – not what one expects to find.  But there are so many wonderful surprises in this life.  Not being predictable makes life so much more interesting, wouldn’t you say?

What is Enough??

My Wish . . .

 

 

Do you prefer yellow or red 🙂

 

B Plus

Some days, it’s just difficult for me to resist.  Poking fun at language and usage.

Especially with the business community.

Whenever I worked for big organizations, it seemed that some managers were always trying to justify their existence by constantly rebranding the old with a new term, or maybe even coming up with a new label and experiment to further dehumanize the workforce.  After all, it’s easier to mistreat staff and dispose of them that way.

One of my most despised manager’s famous quotes was: “Attrition is our friend.”

I mean, how do you justify having 400 managers for a 400-bed hospital?  And yes, I worked at such a place as an RN.  I used to joke, although it wasn’t that funny, that each patient could have their own personal billing executive, but they had to share their nurse with six other patients.  And when a patient died, I quipped, “I guess we can fire his manager now.”

“None of These is You”

 

 

The Only Paradise

Photo: From my recent journey to the West Coast.

I have been told that mobile users are unable to see the “Feature Pic” when it is added on a desktop or laptop, so I’m including it in the text as well in hopes that mobile readers will be able to view it.  WordPress does have its glitches.

In Metta

 

Looking Within . . .

Photo: Part of the Yellowstone River as it winds its way through Hayden Valley.

 

Routine is Lethal . . .

Living the in the mundane is definitely a death sentence.

Photo:  Hiking in the mountains in the borderlands.

 

Soulmass

Lately I’ve read some interesting blogs pointing out just how insignificant we, as humans, are.  And I’ve read others about just how meaningful life is.  I guess opposites attract 😊

Frankly, I’m torn, because these thought experiments bring me back to another interrelated concept and that is “purpose.”

Just what purpose are we supposed to fulfill?  Or, stated another way, why are we here?