“The saddest aspect of life right now is that science gathers knowledge faster than society gathers wisdom.” ~ Isaac Asimov
“Your conscience is the measure of the honesty of your selfishness. Listen to it carefully.” ~ Richard Bach
“Hide not your talents, they for use were made. What’s a sundial in the shade?” ~ Benjamin Franklin
It just occurred to me that I checked the solar weather a couple of hours ago, then just now checked the weather forecast down here on Earth, for my specific location. Okay, it’s not really my location, as such. Just don’t start the ego thing with me this morning, I . . . oh, never mind. Grouchy, yes, but not too bad. It ain’t so bad anyway. I’ve got a sweet animal at my side, and she doesn’t snore. That should be enough. And good coffee. What about that? And it’s laundry day. What about that? Yeh, I’ll go with the gratitude thing and leave the ego thing to whoever’s musings need to go there. I don’t. I’m not sure you can get over your ego by thinking about it anyway. It’s coming up on dawn. It’s cold, about 40º. I had a full eight hours of sleep. Should be caught up by now, ya think? Another thing I noticed this morning, besides the solar winds that are caressing the planet, is that I have been waiting for life to be over for pert near six years now, give or take. I’ve been tired of it, and waiting for it to end. I still am. It’s not a sad thing really. Not really. Last week my psychotherapist pointed out to me that perhaps the major stressor that lurks, that waits to trigger a PTSD attack, is my termination from the natural foods supermarket. I hadn’t thought of that. And why not? Well, rationality and mental disorder are not exactly good bedfellows. In fact they don’t seem to get along much at any particular moment. I like to turn to rationality when the going gets gnarly. It got me through the most recent panic attack. I handled it, managed it, with skills I have worked hard to refine, then I spent the next week recovering from the part of me that could give a rat sass about rationality. PTSD is a body thing. It’s a snapshot lodged in the muscles and endocrine system, a hard and fast image/feeling of the moment when fear and helplessness overwhelmed all else. When the trigger gets tripped it all comes back. ALL of it. Now and then becomes here and now, one big wad of excruciating pain, drizzled copiously with the too-salty sauce made of metaphorical habenero panic. Wow, that last analogy was a bit of a stretch, ya think? Yeh, me too, but one essential function of this blog is for me to experiment and/or play with words and phrases, so I don’t come across as a pedant or something in my formal writing. Sometimes this is only a test.
Just stepped out to witness yet another magnificent sunrise. There is a nice glistening of dew this morning, turning even the brown parts of the dying weeds to gold, as if Rumpelstiltskin has been running amok with a mist sprayer. Nice. Maybe he has? It’s getting near time to feed and medicate the cat. Gotta take a rinse in the shower as well. Groom what needs groomin’. Best get to it.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.