“Rest a while as the new growth takes place. Observe changes in your outer and inner world. This is your foundation for the next step.” ~ Kelly Martin
“Let your rest be perfect in its season, like the rest of waters that are still. If you will have a model or your living, take neither the stars, for they fly without ceasing, nor the ocean that ebbs and flows, nor the river that cannot stay, but rather let your life be like that of the summer air, which has times of noble energy and times of perfect peace. It fills the sails of ships upon the sea, and the miller thanks it on the breezy uplands; it works generously for the health and wealth of all men, yet it claims it hours of rest.. “I have pushed the fleet, I have turned the mill, I have refreshed the city, and now though the captain may walk impatiently on the quarter-deck, and the miller swear, and the city stink, I will stir no more until it pleases me.” ~ Philip Gilbert Hamerton
Instead of a lost day I will call yesterday a found day. Ya gotta be generous to yourself on occasion, right? Yeh, no doubt. With that goes gratitude. Generosity without gratitude makes it much harder to treasure yourself. It’s a question of balance. Not that I did much at all. Then in the afternoon my major activity was binge-watching “Haven” in Netflix. There is something about that show that relaxes me, just by watching it. And it plays to the novelist in me in that sometimes the storyline get pretty cheesy, and the challenge is to make cheesiness work. It’s more than simply getting campy. Slapstick is a good example of what I am talking about here. And cartoonishness can work the same way. Not to drift into literary theory. I’m not educated in that, and besides, I make this stuff up anyway, and then I see the patterns in my work when I go back to read what I wrote. My justifications for these borderline-questionable scenes are what become my observed methods of injecting humor in where it just don’t seem to fit. What am I talking about? Yeh, suffice it to say that it truly is a question of balance. My novel goes all metaphysical and paranormal and stuff, and my years of somewhat steeping in New Age worldviews become the major cauldron from which comes the story. Oh! Did I mention yesterday’s weather? Snow, nearly all day long. Snow is a mind-altering event. I enjoyed it. As I have said before, one of the things I like about having traded the sub-tropics for the high desert mountains of Nuevo Mexico del Norte is that there are actual seasons here. Like dude it snows here. One of my old favorite writers, who is likely unknown to most folks, was Al Burt, a columnist for the Miami Herald, back in the day. He once wrote – and I paraphrase, maybe – that Springtime in South Florida lasts for a few hours on some Tuesday afternoon in mid-April. The dude nailed it. Burt also referred to the crocheted veins of old Florida as “the Mullet Latitudes”; as opposed to the gentrified modern world. I cannot tell you how rich that designation is. I mostly lived in the Mullet Latitudes down there. I couldn’t help it. It was enchanting . . . and now, where I now live is called “the Land of Enchantment. Go figure. Ob la di ob la da. But it is shower time. No hair washing. In this weather hair washing would be more vanity than anything. Yeh, and I gotta shovel some behind my car so that the snow doesn’t bind up under the car when I back up and swing the car around to face the sunrise. Tis the heart of the sunrise I seek. It’s going to be a challenging (neurologically and spiritually speaking) coupla days for me, but the last active event is a massage tomorrow morning with my lovely massage therapist. She’s got a lot of work to do . . . and she always does it well. So. Ummmm. What will it be after the massage? Working on the novel or watching more “Haven” on Netflix? They blend in odd ways. What I am saying is that whatever works, works. Right? Yes.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.