“A person that started in to carry a cat home by the tail was gitting knowledge that was always going to be useful to him, and warn’t ever going to grow dim or doubtful.” ~ Mark Twain, Tom Sawyer Abroad
“The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph. What we obtain too cheap, we esteem too lightly; it is dearness only that gives everything its value. I love the man that can smile in trouble, that can gather strength from distress and grow.” ~ Thomas Paine
Did y’all go and notice I went and missed posting yesterday? I did and I am sorry for not providing fresh commentary on whatever. My day was focused on an eye exam that was far overdue. As it turns out my prescription for glasses was little changed in the 4-5 year lapse. Nor do I have glaucoma. Sweet. I look forward to getting the new glasses. Scratches, says my provider, Jane Compton, create subliminal distortions that hamper focus. Maybe that goes for inner focus as well? How could it not.
Personally, I confabulate with the best of them, thus I’ve always been able to see well, and all that I see is upfront and accurate. Not! At times I’m a dimwit. No way around it. Being in the thick of a monumental spiritual transformation I think about stuff like this.
These days, in these times, it’d be much more of a trendy solution to change with a snap of the finger, or a twitch of the nose like Samantha in Bewitched. But I like the old fashioned way, both for it’s focus on the savory aspects of transformation and for it’s allowance of time to get it right rather than going blind into the darkness that shall be light. I like that phrase: the darkness that shall be light.
Light-chasers (a term created by the late great Debbie Ford) seem to always want to jump right in an have their Light right now, with no delay, given that they want it and they want it now. I hope they get it before it’s too late. Me? I can wait, just as I can admit that my almost-Wiccan worldview gives me the sway to value light and dark as both being essential to life.
Things along the way, things that are obscured and rendered ambiguous by the shadows, may well, and they often do, become treasures when the big picture comes to be seen. Patience is it’s own reward, as my old friend Mitch usta say.
Mitch was wounded by seven gunshots while working the graveyard shift at the convince store that I had quit just two months earlier. I worked that shift on occasion. That crime happened 13 years ago. I saw Mitch about two months ago and he has healed well through accepting his transformation. He told me that he highly recommended getting shot. That’s how much it did for him, yet I will decline his advice, for obvious reasons.
After my eye exam I went to the supposedly despicable corporate supermarket to do some shopping. On a whim I purchased a few beans of excellent coffee as a treat for myself. Black Lightning! Dude it’s like all gnarly and stuff. Black Lightning rocks! I am sipping some right now as I write. Does it improve my prose? The data at this time suggests that results are pending. Wait and see. That’s what I say.
As a closing note, which like Mitch’s plight provides a gander at another success story of healing through valor, I am providing a photo of Petey the pit mix, a dog that has made me smile uncountable times. Petey was found with his paw hanging loose and accompanied by the stench of rot. Through the dauntless efforts of our staff vet, at the Stray Hearts Animal Shelter where I am employed, the dog was nursed back to health, a process that I consider to be nearly miraculous. Many, many, shelters would have put Petey down due to administrative policies and biases. Doc did the work and patience provided veridical proof of success. Petey was transferred to a sanctuary where he was subsequently adopted. Some folks said that Petey was abused through elements of the healing process and activities of the veterinarian. I suppose you could also make a case that humans are abused through chemotherapy in treating cancer. The claims that Petey was abused are plain silly. Petey rocks! It’s that simple. And the moral of this story is – if ya can’t see just wait. Wait, don’t confabulate, this I state. I’ll now sign off before I wield bad rhymes again.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.