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Thursday Thoughts

  • The problem with living in the now and with releasing the past (meditation, blank state and all that) is being a Reader. Reader, Writer, either—both. There it is in front of you, those dates, those times, those revolutions, those disappointments. Those misunderstandings. Those uglinesses and judgments (of self). And of course those flights when living inches off the ground, and equally the longing for them.
  • To say nothing of seeing again the raising of the flag of protest and reaching for the wine bottle. Or vodka when all of it is considered.
  • We found that if you don’t kneel to sacred cows you’ll be wiped out by them. We also found out the joke’s on us. That is, when it ends and you look around and no one’s there. There’s no one left standing as everyone grew up at the same time as they got older and then they became middle America.
  • Terrible is an adjective that has become so limited by its use in the negative when it should not be so. Think of a terrible love, think of a belief of terrible strength. Think Terrible Glory! No, it should not be limited to the anthem of negativity. The same with awful—as in an Awful Beauty.
  • The saddest thing about growing up is losing the dragons and angels and goldfish and secondary teeth without pay.
  • Certain expressions are so lovely that it’s a pleasure to work them in. To put a fine point on it we could say somethings are worth repeating even though we could become a walking cliche of ourselves in the process.
  • I personally wish people would stop saying they will give me a free gift for something. Number one and most egregious, that’s redundant. A gift is free by its very nature. Number two, we all know (or should) that it’s not free. The price is built into the cost of the item.
  • Those giants of passion, of terrible knowledge or ability, so caught in the web of their visions, never stop. Never quit. Never say “my work is over.” Einstein was working out an equation on his deathbed, and so died. Schiele was making a drawing of his wife Edith Schiele on the day she died, October 28, 1918. He passed away three days later.

  • Edith Schiele
    Posted by Modern Art Twentieth Century

But isn’t it also glorious that there are those whose work is finished when it is finished? That there are those whose work in factories builds our cars, as well the butchers who carve our meat, the drivers who bring the buses through our streets—all of value. All of need. All of it to be mastered and answered the same: to what purpose am I?

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Just For Today

Psyche’s Call with Donna May: “The big question is whether you are going to be able to say a hearty yes to your adventure.” ~Joseph Campbell

And the biggest problem, is it not, is knowing which path to take? To understand that sometimes the direction of the path, the adventure, has to be created by ourselves. Waiting for the magic billboard in the sky is a sad mistake that too many of us make. The months, the weeks, the years go by and standing at the side of the road takes its toll. Sometimes the teacher does not arrive. Sometimes the teacher is not recognized. Sometimes we needs must create our own path, come what may, but dig in!

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Good Night

And now, dear friends, a sweet good night, and thoughts of Rilke to hold us tight.

  • Posted by Psyche’s Call with Donna May

And once more from our dear friend, Donna May. May we all dream on with thoughts of snow and angel wings. And may we plumb the depths of our own souls, our own center which cannot hold.

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Now

So many thoughts, so little time. So for just now, and a catch-up later, here’s a thought to tide us over once more.

  • Tao and Zen

“There is a misconception that Buddhism is a religion, and that you worship Buddha. Buddhism is a practice, like yoga. You can be a Christian and practice Buddhism. I met a Catholic priest who lives in a Buddhist monastery in France. He told me that Buddhism makes him a better Christian. I love that.” – Thich Nhat Hanh

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When The Nots Have It

Sometimes it’s just easier to say what you do not want or do not like than to say that which you do. (There’s a note on previous ramblings about same.) This is an extended version, just to pass the time while I bake. Yes bake. (From already prepared dough. But still. It requires oven time.)

  • I do not care for Andre Rieu. I think he is a poseur. And a narcissist. However and of course one needs to be those things to be a conductor in any case, yes? Perhaps not as obviously—if so. Or as long-haired-blond, look-at-me, about it. And I certainly have nothing against long hair on men/boys.
  • Yikes to Ravel. No thank you. Bolero is tedious and repetitive. I don’t know about his other works; as soon as I see the name I move past.
  • No, no, absolute no: “Post this if you love” me. Love at all. If you can see my name. If you don’t post or share this within two minutes you will die by lions tonight. It will mean you hate god. Or you don’t care for the grief-stricken woman who just lost her: …………(fill in the blank)…
  • No and sad about it: Al Pacino and Robert De Niro. Neither one has made a star-quality film since their bigs—The Godfather & Raging Bull. Though I keep checking and watching their latest films. Such a disappointment.
  • NO NO NO: baby talk for animals. Why do posts make otherwise fine content a reject because someone just wolfs me? Why do people believe misspelt words are charming? Excuse me while I barf.
  • Not to my taste: Beautiful horses posed beside a model. What’s wrong with a real person next to that beauty?
  • Do not, not, not—Stop it I say— call poetic justice irony. It is NOT ironic. In most cases irony is misused. I may have said this before. Most likely. And that is not ironic.
  • Please do not have the not snow. It’s winter. Here in the midwest or eastwardly leaning, we should have snow, should we not?

And that’s all for semi-thinking on this Sunday night. And I managed to burn the last load of cookies. Maybe baking should seriously go back on the list of Nots.

Bob Blair

“Another-wintery-scene-from-silver-springs-park-in-stow-ohio,” posted by Rob Blair. I post this for those of us who have forgotten what snow looks like.