by Florence Ondré
First it was Pluto not being a planet any more and now it’s screwing with time.
Are these the latest stupid human tricks or can we not find something larger to do with our shpielkes?
Can’t that overactive energy be channeled into something more beneficial like creating a better education system which truly motivates organic skills and talents beyond rote and is available for all children in this country?
Can man be still for one moment and appreciate what is without having to jiggle their legs up and down like a plugged in electrical dandling machine going no where fast?
We've all seen people sitting down; one leg still moving up and down like a racing engine idling in neutral. Why not go further with that available energy? Better than windmills, what about recycling the idea of people standing at their desks on treadmills? Why hasn't our government or think tanks thought about hooking them up to power generators? That alone could have corporations making their own power and helping us out with our energy crunches. Of course there'd have to be a little something-something extra in the paycheck or as corporations often do in lieu, a new title might have to be bestowed. Now, that is green usage of alternative energy sources.
But then there would be the tangles of how to market, outsource, monitor and manage the whole ferschlugginer thing. After all waste is a terrible thing to mind.
Is it just me or could our energy and time be put to better use?
Wouldn’t you rather see a cure for cancer, AIDS or a multitude of other diseases which have had people waiting years and lifetimes for a glimpse of help from science and scientists?
Bending time to suit a few humans; downgrading age old planets, yeah, that’s where I want my tax dollars to go for research and lawmaking. Yup. That’s where I want my representatives in government to focus.
Forget trivial things like top quality healthcare, and housing for everyone. Let’s get Congress to declare more paid holidays so we can enjoy that extra daylight they’ve just rearranged for us. War? Well, hey, there’s more daylight to see your enemy in. Oil gouging? Wait a sec. There’ll be less energy usage because you won’t have to put the lights on in your house as much, even though the same amount of SUV’s and trucks will be guzzling gas, lining pockets of oil robber barons and fuming up the atmosphere. Safety on those highways and byways? Material for plugging up the potholes in our roads? Sorry. No new research or materials there. We’re busy with the business of tinkering with time.
Don’t get me wrong. I can certainly smile at humans shifting the light to give everyone more of that commodity. Who of us couldn’t use more light in our lives? I can hear Angels laughing as we “lighten up.”
I do have concerns though.
Halloween is gonna be all messed up. There won’t be enough dark for the trick or treaters now that Congress has put this massive effort and funding into moving minutes around like tiles on a game board. You know how woosie it is to dress up like a vampire with the sun still shining.
I’d just like to see all that energy, science and funding go toward creating peace on this planet one day soon…that is IF Earth still is a planet.
You never do know…..tick tick tick.
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Quote For The Day
“History is a vast early warning system.”
Norman Cousins, editor and author (1915-1990)
Norman Cousins, editor and author (1915-1990)
Friday, March 09, 2007
Day In Haiku
Let us cross over
‘Attraversiamo’ gifts
Visits to learning
*Thanks http://whitishrabbit.wordpress.com for the gift of insight into that Italian expression which opens windows and doors, leaving the opportunity for new gifts to be shared as we all “cross over” and visit each other’s blogs.
‘Attraversiamo’ gifts
Visits to learning
*Thanks http://whitishrabbit.wordpress.com for the gift of insight into that Italian expression which opens windows and doors, leaving the opportunity for new gifts to be shared as we all “cross over” and visit each other’s blogs.
"Out On A Limb"
by Florence Ondré
Awakening to another day of wild winds, bitter cold and sunshine instead of snow, this March day also brings me sweet chirping in the symphony of branches dancing on my window screens.
Mother Birdsong amps up notch to octave notch, letting the world know that someone has interrupted her lullaby for her little ones. “Tweety tweet tweet,” warble back the Greek chorus of feathered cherubs, as they practice for their own symphonies to come. Rehearsal is necessary for all life’s performances.
I lay in my warm bed, covers keeping me toasty warm as I stretch and lean to peek at the show outside my shade, finding nothing unusual or interesting in the high branches of a yet-to-bud cherry blossom tree but a dark nest looking object which turns out to be, upon closer inspection, a deep, navy blue ball which has lodged in the outstretched limbs between my neighbor’s house and mine. A weird gift from the next door daily children’s chorus of laughter and shreiks; game playing and ball tossing; “Chatter, chatter, chatter.”
Kids- whether in trees, bushes or on the ground; feathered, furred or skinned are practicing something or other that will stand them in good stead as they grow.
I’m just up here on the second floor noticing…and smiling.
Awakening to another day of wild winds, bitter cold and sunshine instead of snow, this March day also brings me sweet chirping in the symphony of branches dancing on my window screens.
Mother Birdsong amps up notch to octave notch, letting the world know that someone has interrupted her lullaby for her little ones. “Tweety tweet tweet,” warble back the Greek chorus of feathered cherubs, as they practice for their own symphonies to come. Rehearsal is necessary for all life’s performances.
I lay in my warm bed, covers keeping me toasty warm as I stretch and lean to peek at the show outside my shade, finding nothing unusual or interesting in the high branches of a yet-to-bud cherry blossom tree but a dark nest looking object which turns out to be, upon closer inspection, a deep, navy blue ball which has lodged in the outstretched limbs between my neighbor’s house and mine. A weird gift from the next door daily children’s chorus of laughter and shreiks; game playing and ball tossing; “Chatter, chatter, chatter.”
Kids- whether in trees, bushes or on the ground; feathered, furred or skinned are practicing something or other that will stand them in good stead as they grow.
I’m just up here on the second floor noticing…and smiling.
Quote For The Day
“There is no passion to be found in playing small - In settling for a life that is less than what you are capable of living.”
Nelson Mandela
Nelson Mandela
Monday, March 05, 2007
Quote For The Day
"Uttering a word is like striking a note on the keyboard of the imagination."
Ludwig Wittgenstein, philosopher (1889-1951)
Ludwig Wittgenstein, philosopher (1889-1951)
Saturday, March 03, 2007
The Gratitude Pool
Oh Spring breezes with out sneezes
Tulips growing
Colors showing
Sunshine glowing
On every living thing
Walking or on wing
Life is on the thrive
It’s good to be alive!
Tulips growing
Colors showing
Sunshine glowing
On every living thing
Walking or on wing
Life is on the thrive
It’s good to be alive!
Thursday, March 01, 2007
C-C-C Coping
by Florence Ondré
Since I've fractured my foot and had to stay off it totally for over 2 weeks now and am looking at more like 4 weeks of being third base, I've been put to the test of humility. Humble pie has raged with pride and being in the position of having to ask for help with every little thing has been alternately hard as sharp nails and soft as loving touch.
There is no other way to say it than sandpapering the soul is most of the middle ground of this accident added to my spine disability.
Raised on a steady diet of you-can-do-it-for-yourself and if-you-don't-do-for- yourself-no-one-else-will is still cemented in me like bedrock resisting the chisel.
As much as I know that in my disability, I am someone else's turn to grow in giving and my own opportunity to balance my energy of giving with receiving, I still chafe against not being able and feel like a burden.
When I need something and have to call for help, hearing a groan, moan or umph of air expelled confirms my worst suspicions that no matter how loved I am, I am a pain in someone's ass.
And the tenor of energy paving each tending to my task is as important as words which say, "I'm here for you. What do you need? How would you like that?" or "You're asking too much. You have to have it done your way. Why didn't you ask for that when I was in here the first time."
To me, anything smacking of those last three is the SST straight to hurt and anger.
Getting my needs met with a snarl or a diatribe of discussion of an array of choices of how else the need can be met other than what I asked for, just adds insult to injury.
All that goes through my brain is, "What? Am I speaking a foreign language here? I don't remember outsourcing to get a glass of water and an Advil!"
Today, I took yesterday's quote by Christopher Morley, “Heavy hearts, like heavy clouds in the sky, are best relieved by the letting of a little water,” and I cried- several times- because it is hard and it hurts to be disabled and lack of compassion in communication adds to that hurt.
I get it that everyone's needs will sometimes overlap and that sucks for the handicapped person in the can't-do situation.
That pushes me past hurt to say, "Screw it!" and try to do the very things that will injure me more...like hobbling in pain and winding up smacking my fractured foot on whatever piece of furniture snags me instead of asking for assistance.
Just for today, or I should say moments in this day, a song from a broadway show entitled "It sucks to be me!" is rambling around my brain.
Will I get past this?
Yes.
And I'll still communicate forthrightly as plainly and straightforwardly as I can. No. I'm not shutting up or shutting down or making myself smaller in any way-even though I feel shrunken into myself often in this process of healing and hampering.
I'll regain my sense of humor and positive attitude - after the pain of the project of showering like a flamingo on one foot; trying to be a magician getting the soles clean and cared for like an inflight contortionist.
But first, I'm gonna let the water out of the heavy clouds in my heart and cry.
Since I've fractured my foot and had to stay off it totally for over 2 weeks now and am looking at more like 4 weeks of being third base, I've been put to the test of humility. Humble pie has raged with pride and being in the position of having to ask for help with every little thing has been alternately hard as sharp nails and soft as loving touch.
There is no other way to say it than sandpapering the soul is most of the middle ground of this accident added to my spine disability.
Raised on a steady diet of you-can-do-it-for-yourself and if-you-don't-do-for- yourself-no-one-else-will is still cemented in me like bedrock resisting the chisel.
As much as I know that in my disability, I am someone else's turn to grow in giving and my own opportunity to balance my energy of giving with receiving, I still chafe against not being able and feel like a burden.
When I need something and have to call for help, hearing a groan, moan or umph of air expelled confirms my worst suspicions that no matter how loved I am, I am a pain in someone's ass.
And the tenor of energy paving each tending to my task is as important as words which say, "I'm here for you. What do you need? How would you like that?" or "You're asking too much. You have to have it done your way. Why didn't you ask for that when I was in here the first time."
To me, anything smacking of those last three is the SST straight to hurt and anger.
Getting my needs met with a snarl or a diatribe of discussion of an array of choices of how else the need can be met other than what I asked for, just adds insult to injury.
All that goes through my brain is, "What? Am I speaking a foreign language here? I don't remember outsourcing to get a glass of water and an Advil!"
Today, I took yesterday's quote by Christopher Morley, “Heavy hearts, like heavy clouds in the sky, are best relieved by the letting of a little water,” and I cried- several times- because it is hard and it hurts to be disabled and lack of compassion in communication adds to that hurt.
I get it that everyone's needs will sometimes overlap and that sucks for the handicapped person in the can't-do situation.
That pushes me past hurt to say, "Screw it!" and try to do the very things that will injure me more...like hobbling in pain and winding up smacking my fractured foot on whatever piece of furniture snags me instead of asking for assistance.
Just for today, or I should say moments in this day, a song from a broadway show entitled "It sucks to be me!" is rambling around my brain.
Will I get past this?
Yes.
And I'll still communicate forthrightly as plainly and straightforwardly as I can. No. I'm not shutting up or shutting down or making myself smaller in any way-even though I feel shrunken into myself often in this process of healing and hampering.
I'll regain my sense of humor and positive attitude - after the pain of the project of showering like a flamingo on one foot; trying to be a magician getting the soles clean and cared for like an inflight contortionist.
But first, I'm gonna let the water out of the heavy clouds in my heart and cry.
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