Flinging A Taunt or Tossing The Pen

I’ve always wanted to fling a pen across the room. I’ve never done it, but I’ve always wanted to give it a try. As a child it looked tempting, however the potential ramifications looked a bit too serious to allow me to go for it. You see my father hated painting. What if, when I flung the pen, I made a mark on the wall? There would be heck to pay.

My father would have to paint at least the entire room, which would then get my mother started on how all the other rooms should be painted too because why only do one room. I couldn’t handle all the responsibility just from flinging one pen, one time.

There were countless times I wanted to fling a pen across the room in university. But I wasn’t in my own house and did not want to deal with any landlord issues. Plus, there tended to be mountains of papers everywhere and it is just possible the pen could get lost in a mountain of paper. I’d trigger an avalanche of those papers and books while searching for my pen. Not a good idea. Not when I knew where exactly in my piles things were located. One should never tempt that kind of organization with the chance of a disaster all for a moment of silliness.

So, you’d think now that I’m past the stage of paper and book mountains that may be now I’d fling a pen. After all I own my own place so no landlord issues and if I don’t want to paint, so be it. Except I can still feel the guilt as if I were a young child in my parents’ house. And so, I don’t.

But today my doctor flung his pen across the room and I lived it vicariously. I watched it bounce off the wall, fall briefly to a chair and then roll back off the chair and under a shelf. The pen left a horrible mark and a scratch in the wall. Paint may fix the mark, but the scratch needs more than paint. And someone is going to have to unload a hundred pounds of books to be able to move the shelf just to retrieve one pen.

My doctor told me that for a brief moment it was kind of relaxing to fling his pen, but it was very short-lived. Now he was angry that he couldn’t just retrieve his pen and the mark would taunt him, just as the lab results he had been reading with me taunted him to throw the pen in the first place.

We Took The Long Way Home And It Was Great

Today we the long way home.  The way that had the most puddles and singing birds. After the rain.  We wouldn’t go out in a heavy rain, the dog doesn’t like it.  But after the rain she loves it.  All the new smells and stuff.

So we took the long way home.  To enjoy the smells of damp leaves warming in the sunshine.  We took the long way home to listen to the ran running in the gutters.  To watch the small birds drink out of the puddles and en try to chase the birds.

We took the long way home because there was a rainbow out and it was a beautiful time.  We could take the long way home because we weren’t in a hurry.  We had no particular place to go and went were we felt like going at the speed we wanted to go.

Pits nice, being able to take the long way home.  To not have to rush around so much which is what the world seems to be about these days.  Rushing here and there and a,ways heading to some place or some where that we need to be.  It’s nice to just slow down and do what we please.  It’s nice to settle down to what we want how we want and when we want.

There may be something more to this slow living besides not having to run everywhere.  There is a sense of getting back into something, touching something I haven’t touched since I was young.  Between the dog and the day of taking the long way home I felt a strange satisfaction.  A satisfaction of just letting things be as there would be without forcing things.

We took the long way home and when we got home there was a drink for me and a nice chew for the dog while we waited for our meal.  And we decided we would.d take the long way home more often.  We would follow the path we wanted no matter how far it took us from home.  And we’d take the long way home, scuffing in the leaves, rolling n the grass and marvelling at the clouds, rainbows and whatever we find.

Full Of Living Life

I was listening to a man explain that the key to living your passions in life is to just simply do it.  If you dream it, or have a passion for something, you should simply go about and try to live it as fully as you can.  Abandon all paralyzing fear, set aside judgements and excuses and just do it.

it all sounds so easy, I mean you boil this down to a few simply phrases and viola you are on your way.  Except it’s never that easy.  First you must find you passion.  Not a passing lust, but a pure passion.  Next you need to take you passion and apply it to your whole life.  Sometimes at the cost of things.  You must put you full energy into this without excuses.  Try that when here is so much stuff going on in the “sidelines” of your life.

My father once told me that if you got to the end of your life with little regrets and no energy leftover, you probably lived a full life.  He also told me that to move a full life you had to set aside things like worrying about what other people would think about you.  He told me he didn’t think he’d make the grade on living fully and he was okay with that.  He may have a few more regrets, but he certainly wouldn’t have had to kick out some space to light the way for what he wanted so that was an ideal trade-off.

perhaps to live your passions you have to be willing to have that become your whole life.  Sure you make some space here and there for the other stuff and people, but you must live completely for and with your passion.  And that can be daunting as well, when you consider how many aspects of your life might be ignored or placed on a lower priority.  I know my dad wouldn’t be happy living that kind of life.  The question is, where do I fit into that equation.  How about you?  Where do you fit?

It’s That Tme Of Year…You Know, Where You Dream Of Other Climes

The cold wet weather is upon us now.  I’m not a huge fan of the cold.  I’ve been known to plan and plot ways to avoid the cold.  I’ve not always been successful with these plans, but at least it takes my mind somewhat off the cold.  Temporarily, until I step back outside that is! 😕

Wet I don’t mind.  Actually there is something magical about walking in the rain on a hot summer day, the water seems warm as the raindrops splatter against your bare skin.    That kind of wet I don’t mind.  Wet that is cold, is a slightly different story.  Just not a raving fan of it.

Between my scheming and plotting, I secretly plan how to stay warm and not look overdressed.  This can become an adventure all of its own because half the time I’m dressing for outdoor weather and then also indoor “weather”.

With all these plots and schemes I’ve come across some favourite things.  Some I’ve stumbled on, some I’ve found after searching and others have been gifts.  The gifts are by far the best because they represent someone’s love and thoughtfulness.

Today, with the cold joining the wet  knew it was time to pull out some of these fa route items.  I have a lovely wrap of the palest blue, like a summer sky at noon.  It’s as light as a feather, but comfortable and oh so warm.  Then there is the pair of red socks, another fabulous gift that make me giggle when I wear them.  Not only are they warm and comfortable, they are a brilliant, cheery red.  Just the thing for cold and dreary weather.

I also pulled out my white fuzzy gloves.  These are like clouds on my hand.  Well I honestly don’t know how clouds feel, but I imagine how soft and delightful these gloves feel is exactly how clouds would feel.  If you wore them.  On your hands.  My fuzzy white gloves were also a gift and one dearly treasured as they are from someone special.  I’ve worked hard to keep them pristine and white!  (It goes without staying that keeping things white is a rather superhuman challenge for me!  That shows how much I treasure these gloves.)

Now none of these items have actually removed me from the cold or the wet cold.  To do that I’d have to move to some place that just never gets cold.  Tempting, very tempting.  But I’m sure there drawbacks to those laces, like perhaps drought.  Drought and I would have issues, because remember I like wet, provided it isn’t cold wet! 😉

Beloved swears there is no place that would meet my requirements.  Not even most of them.  Pretty sure he’s right about that.  But shhh!  We don’t need to let him know that!😉 Let’s just have him focus on me not being cold and wet! 😉

 

 

 

Cutting The Grass And Finding Your Place

Beloved took it upon himself to cut the grass even though we have a service the comes to take care of it.  If he was here more he wouldn’t want the service, but given that he isn’t here all that often and I’m not always able to find the energy to do so, we have a service that cuts the grass.

However to Beloved, cutting the lawn looks like fun.  From running the lawnmower to emptying the bag, the whole thing looks like a delight to him.  So when he has a chance he pulls out the lawnmower, checks the gas, and gets to cutting. He is in his glory, cutting diagonal lines, or straight up and down or, when the fancy hits him he does circles.  He will stop and look at what’s already cut and what needs to still be done and grin like a fool.

When he is finished he will come into the house pleased and proud of himself.  To him this is a very North American thing to do, cutting the grass.  He didn’t grow up here, he didn’t grow up with grass near his house so he had no need to learn how to cut the lawn. But now when he is here, it’s what he enjoys.

Now I’m not complaining any.  If cutting the grass makes him happy then fine he can go and do that.  But the man gets little bits of grass everywhere.  I have no idea how it ends up on his hair and on his face, but by the time he is done, he is a bit of a green man.  Oh not the kind you find in Europe in the churches.  No I’m talking about the kind where a man ends up with a lot of green on him.  😉😀

And when he has finished with the lawnmower he has this need to walk through the house, several rooms, just to grab some clothes and hit the shower.  It is as if he is on a mission to spread as much grass throughout the house as possible in the shortest amount of time.  And the dogs can the left out so they end up with grass in them.  Grass that they then transport throughout the rest of the house, just to ensure maximum coverage. 😐

And after he is cleaned up he will call the service we have and let them know that for this week they don’t need to come,he has taken care of the grass.  They will remind him that he has paid for them to come and that there won’t be any type of discount for him doing the work and he will assure them it’s okay and wish them a good day.  Then he will sit down and read a book, feeling secure in his ability to fit in here.  At least when it comes to cutting the grass.

Changing For Change

I work with a man who has changed his career several times over.  He believes a person shouldn’t be unhappy in his/her job and thus he has switched and jumped jobs as required to meet that ideal.

He started his adult career in business, became unhappy and decided to teach.  After much dissatisfaction as an educator,  he changed to marketing before settling in theology, but is not happy there either.

It isn’t just a case of a man trying to find what he wants to be when he grows up, as he has mentioned horribly bosses and colleagues as reasons for switching not just where he works, but what he does.

I agree that  life is too short to be unhappy or miserable, but at some point I would want to settle into something and be at least content.  I accept that not everyone we work with is going to be our best friends, but I can’t fathom that every boss is going to be toxic or out to get us.  I also cannot buy into the idea that to my coworkers are all negative or toxic people.

I can’t help but wonder if part of his unhappiness is because he is seeking a fairytale instead of living real life.  And I must confess that does make me a bit sorry for him because there is no happily ever after for ever into the sunset deal.

It’s  life with all the ups and downs.  The good and the bad, the happiness and the unhappiness.  For without one how do we possibly know the other, or for that matter how we do embrace life fully if we remain in denial of the duality of living.

But maybe it is easier to keep changing where we work or what we do rather than change ourselves.