Easily Offended


Yesterday evening late, while lying in bed with my computer….yes I am one of those…browsing around to pull my mind into a state of slumber, a post was made on Facebook by of course one of my Facebook friends.  Not a real friend in life, just someone I sort of know and am friends with on Facebook.  As it is these days.  Not a friend who comes for coffee, phones or even sends a Christmas card which few do these days.  Just someone on Facebook.

The post was of photo from the back of a guy wearing a very bright green jacket with a backpack.  The caption read: Bro do u wanna be seen or not.  I made a comment that it may be the only jacket he has.  That after the fires in the area a few years ago when people lost everything but the clothes on their backs, I learned to not judge what people were wearing. My intent was to offer a different perspective on the ridicule of the guy in the jacket.

What I did not point out is that it also seemed rather racist because that is the headline of the day.  Not just yesterday however now every day.  The post did have a racist tone.  The caption offered that.  I didn’t go there in my comment though rather offered that maybe it was the only jacket he had and that could very well be the situation with a black male.

The reply comment from the woman sharing the post was mean, hateful and a tone of extremely condescending.  She told me in the first comment responding to my comment was that it was inappropriate to the post.  I responded with that the point of my comment was missed.   That then brought the mean, hateful response that it had nothing to do with the guys circumstances and that I was easily offended.

Well perhaps easily offended could be true when you are slamming someone else for your enjoyment.  If you look at the photo and the caption combined and see the situation as presented, it is offensive and would be to a lot of people.  Yet there were 6 likes to this post and that is further bothersome because people really are not seeing the big picture.  They are not seeing how they are promoting racism.  They are finding humor in the belittlement without knowing the full story.

It is stuff like this that pushes me further in to being a recluse.  These type of people who seem to think they know so much and are so ready to push another aside for their own purpose.  They bully.  They slam.  They do not care about the other person’s situation or that what they are doing is wrong.  They act so that they seem superior and drag all their friends with them.

A sad world we live in these days.  It is rare to experience any respect, courtesy or kindness. It is a society that has grown from the “you deserve it” to the “let me take”world we now live.  It is way too materialistic.  Way too label oriented.  Way to self centered and way to quick to attack when one hasn’t even considered all the angles, layers and reasons.

The other day I had a meeting regarding my property taxes which were to escalate tremendously.  Fortunately we are given the option to protest those increases and visit with the agency imposing those.  In the past these meetings have not always been positive and most have resulted with little change.  This one however from the moment the man called my name began on a positive note.  His body language spoke volumes.  The kindness of his facial features, relaxed and comfortable offered openness.  Our conversation was one of shared respect and cordialness.  Not a wall that was up rather the door was open to listening.  The man was so kind, so nice and so respectful of me.  We shared a few laughs while discussing the increase and even if I had not gained a positive result, his treatment of me would have been enough.  The difference being, he was a black male so he had a far different perspective.

He could have just as easily been the man in the post photo that I found to have a different dimension of meaning then the presentation and in actuality I think it really was the intent of the original poster.

So for this woman to say I am easily offended well yes I may be if it means degrading, biased exploitation of another regardless of race.  I am a three demential thinker.  I see layers that sometimes others do not see.  It is sometimes a gift.  Sometimes a blessing.  Sometimes misunderstood as is the case with this Facebook exchange.  The woman could only see the photo and did not pick up that it was really racist.  That it really was offensive and gave no consideration to what the reason was of why the man wore the jacket.

We have become too ready to criticize from the surface and too ready to attack when below the surface is revealed.  Some how we must regain a footing of consideration, of kindness and of respect.  Some how we must.

So if it seems I am easily offended well so be it.  There is such thing as unfriending on Facebook however there is also a way to just avoid the posts which is the higher road to take.  I will always stand for the less fortunate.  I will always defend those who are bullied, battered and beaten down by society.  If it means I have to mention the layers not noticed then I will and if it means that someone so arrogantly tells me I am easily offended, oh well.  Oh well.  At least I know I care deeply and treat people with respect, consideration and kindness as best I can.

So lets all do our best to see past the degrading posts and treat one another with kindness even if it means to some we are easily offended.

Enjoy your day.  Be kind to people and animals, please.

 

 

 

 

 

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Sherlock


IMG_1282Sherlock, an older black cat with golden eyes that more then knew life.  He came to my courtyard one day several months ago with a very small kitten in tow.  At the time I didn’t know his situation although asking around for days, I finally learned he had been turned to the streets when his owner passed.  Her daughter treating him no better then the rubbish she cleared out of the house and soon put on the market.  More focus on the money and what she was getting then the life of a cat that brought something to her Mother.  Dreadful in my book however how it seems to be in this small town where I have been trapped for way too long now.

So as it goes with animal lovers, I began feeding him along with the kitten.  He was so kind to the kitten, letting him eat as much as he wanted then finishing off what was left.  So one dish, one bowl became two dishes, two bowls.  They became familiar with the feeding schedule and showed up for those times.  Other times hanging out in the courtyard or wandering off to find something else, whatever that something else was.

Soon the kitten was getting a bit brave without the experience or knowledge of the danger that existed.  He began sitting in the middle of the street that people use as a speedway from the stop sign on down the street.  Mostly redneck guys in their trucks who have to squeal tires as they peel out from the stop sign, gaining speed as they pass my house.  It wasn’t safe for even the most experienced cat, dog or person, much less for a small kitten of about 6 weeks old.  So as animal lovers do, I brought him inside hoping I would find a home for him.

Of course homes are difficult to find.  Very difficult to find.  People say they will pass the word around yet I know that is only lip service. Other people who help animals are always maxed out with little to no help finding homes either.  Yet I kept hope.  Months have passed though and he is still here.

Sherlock remained outside even though he really wanted to come in.  I just had too many others and felt I needed to do what I could to help him yet not bring him in to be with the others.  Something I now really regret.  I fed him good food as the others got, twice a day.  Talked with him, befriended him.  Sometimes he didn’t want to be friendly so I respected that and let him be.  Other times he liked to have his back brushed, then rubbed.

I had high hopes of finding him a home.  I contacted all the rescue people I knew and put out the word that he needed a home.  People who could have taken him, wouldn’t and the months passed.  Then one day a woman said she would take him.  I was reluctant because she seems so blasé about everything….everything.  I sent an email to a woman who lives in my area and who is a good pet person asking if she would take him.  Feeling that if she let him out, he would know the area and be safe.  She declined however said the woman who said she would take him would be a really good choice.

So on the night when Sherlock decided to go in the carrier after his dinner, I phoned her to come for him.  She came after some time.  My heart broke though when she placed the carrier in the cargo of her SUV and closed the door in his face.  I wanted to stop her and take him back.  I had no place to keep him safe inside though.  Most of the rooms of my house are taken by other cats, so no place that he could have as his own while he adjusted to a new life.  She had a big house, money and could easily give him a good life if she wanted.  If she wanted becomes the key to this.

A few days later I checked on him and she said he wasn’t happy.  I offered a few suggestions that if she had followed, I doubt there would have been the issue that exist today.  Within a few hours later of that email, he was let out to what is a heavy, thicket type area.  The briar patch.

I wasn’t told and only found out three days later because I asked about him.  So I began the quest of trying to find him in all the thickness of the area.  Each day going out and doing my best to find him.  I know in my heart it is just too much effort for her to be bothered.  That is evident by her lack of communication.  My inquiries about him either go unanswered are met with a single word reply…well maybe a complete sentence that offers little.  I have asked for help.  None comes.  I contacted everyone in the area, she did not.  I contacted the fire department made up of volunteers for the area.  I have called everyone I know to look, spread the word asking for help to find him.

It is now almost ten days and he has only been seen once which was the Sunday after let out on Wednesday.  Now to try to get any response from this woman is like trying to change the weather.

It is a life and one she jeopardized.  It is unacceptable to me for someone to just drop the ball and walk away without a care in the world about what they have caused or the need to help.  It has been the way in this small town.  People start something, then it becomes a bit of work, or a challenge and they just drop things for someone else to either pick up the pieces or the pieces lay broken with no resolution.  This is a life though.  A cat that deserves better.

The nonchalant mindset of  “he’ll be ok.  He is black.  There are trees to climb so he will be safe from predators.  There are lizards and plenty of mice for him to have food.  There are water bowls out and ponds for him to have water.  So he will be fine.”  I want to scream at her and say no he won’t.  He is older and he should not be so casually tossed aside like his life doesn’t matter.

People are treated the same way in this town.  As long as things go as is wanted and as long as one can offer money, all is fine.  Once that changes then they are tossed aside as well.  I have never encountered so much lack of responsibility or caring.  I have lived several places and have never previously experienced the mindset.  It makes life very burdensome and challenging to try to have to constantly pick up the pieces of what others have left broken with so little care.

Now there is Sherlock.  A little life that should have mattered.  That now is faced daily with survival.  Not be able to totally relax ever.  Sleeping with his eyes half open so that he is aware of what is approaching.  Food is not prevalent and has to be repeatedly sought just to keep going.  There is no home.  No comfort zone.  No future of love.  Just a toss aside life by very uncaring people.

I have to face the fact, that I may not find him.  Help is just not something these people get.  Responsibility is not something these people get.  Oh sure they probably pay their bills and are supportive of their tight little circle however beyond that why bother, right. Especially if someone else will take care of it.  And if you don’t begin to help or be responsible then of course someone else will take care of picking up the pieces especially when those pieces put together are a life.

My hope is vanishing and my heart is heavy.  I will never understand the people of this town.  There are a few nice ones yet the overall game is a lack of caring.  A lack of responsibility.  A lack of communication.  Unfortunately this time around it has been costly for Sherlock and I so regret sending him with such an uncaring, non communicative and blasé woman.  So regret it.

I will keep trying though and at some point,  if I can not find him, then I will have to give up.  Yet he deserves to be sought.  He deserves so much better then what this woman gave him.  And so it is with people.  Those tossed aside because things are not perfect with them.

When will life become important again.  Life of all living things.  When will people have high regard for others, for a cat like Sherlock.  When will the caring happen.  It is so very needed and for right not, it is what Sherlock needs.  As do so many others.

Can we not come together, communicate.  Be kind. Be caring.  Be considerate.  Be responsible.  It really doesn’t take that much to do any of those things.  In the hope for Sherlock, may this happen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Stop the World, I Want to Get Off


The past few days have been absolute madness and a roller coaster of emotions.  First I have been dealing with the fact that a woman I allowed to adopt a rescue cat, turned him out to a very rugged, rough area with little to no concern.  She did not bother to phone me to perhaps take him back, nor did she phone me when she claims he escaped or so that is what her husband said.  She has yet to talk with me.

How I found out of his missing, was during the break of a house concert of mutual friends. I inquired of the husband about the cat.  His response was “I am not so sure you should ask”…so I asked why and he told me the cat had escaped.  That was three days and nights after the cat was let out.

They live in a very dense underbrush area.  Growth after fires many years ago.  The trees that once were, are burned nubs with thick brush that has taken over the terrain.  It is hilly, rocky and rough.  Swarming with coyotes and other type of predators.  It would be tough for him since he has been living in a much more civilized environment with two canned food meals a day and dried food, water as he wanted it.

Many said this woman would offer him a good home.  I wanted great however had to go with supposedly good.  A few days after he went with her, I inquired about him and was told he was not happy so I suggested a few things.  Then I didn’t hear back so I thought maybe things had worked out a bit.  It had only been four days since she took him.  Taking him on a Friday night then by Wednesday he is let out to the wild.

There are not words to express how I feel other then heartbroken.  I feel I let him down by trying to find a home for him.  We had a routine worked out.  Not ideal yet manageable.  I have numerous cats already and simply could not take another one inside.  So I offered him a place to be and regular food offered on schedule.  Plus my house is for sale and I will be moving.  So he needed to be placed.

He already had a sad story which this woman who was going to give him a home, knew.  He had been turned out to the streets by the daughter of his owner when she passed.  He came to my house because I think at one time he may have lived there.  I bought my house from his owner.  So I fed him and nurtured him as I could.  Over the course of the months of trying to find him a home, I watched him become more untrusting and his coat more scruffy.  My heart broke each time I would feed him and so wanted to add him with the others yet I just could not take one more.

So when the opportunity arose for him to have a home I went with it. I was promised he would stay indoors and then later if he wanted to go out, he could.  I asked around and was told she would be a good provider and he would have a good home.  So I went with it.

When she came to get him that Friday evening with storms looming on the horizon I was relieved knowing that he would not be out in the storms.  Yet when she opened the back area of her SUV and set the carrier inside with the food I sent along, closed the door in his face, my heart sank.  I almost said no just leave him.  Because if it had been me, he would have been setting on the passenger seat and I would have talked with him all the way home.  So my fears began then.  I didn’t think too much would really happen other then he may have a bit longer to adjust.

I did not know that they had a new little dog which Sherlock so disliked little dogs because the one that visited the neighbors from time to time, aggressively chased him.  So I feel sure that contributed to his fears in the new place.

To be so nonchalant about him being outside in such a rough area,  not even looking for him, not even calling me to let me know so that maybe I could have found him quickly is just beyond what I can understand.

A friend sent me a message that it is animal abuse and I have to agree with her yet there is not anything that I can do.  I am now having to face that I may never find him.  I have word out with everyone along the road that leads to their house.  I even talked with the fire department so that if they are cruising around checking things out, they can watch for him.

He just does not deserve this.  So I am reeling from the betrayal by her.  Reeling because I feel I let Sherlock down and betrayed his trust.  I am truly at a loss of what to do now because as the additional days mount into close to a week, the chances grow slimmer and slimmer.

I am loosing faith in almost everything.  The world is a mess and people just do not take responsibility for their actions.  It has become such an uncaring, cold, hateful society that it is difficult to deal with.   It makes me want to do as Sherlock is probably having to do, find a hiding place and just stay.  It also makes me want to just stop the world and get off.

Yet we can’t really do that.  Just like this situation with Sherlock and all the hope going away each day, not because either of us did anything however because of the self centered negligence of someone else, is just how society feels.

People no longer are grateful for efforts made on their behalf.  They think they can do better through someone else with more wealth, more power leaving the one who began the process to be tossed to the wilds, like Sherlock.

There do not seem to be any answers and I have always been able to look at things and think maybe there is just a window of hope yet today as I write this, I am not so sure any longer.  I have truly lost faith in man kind.  I have lost faith that kindness and caring still exist.  I have lost faith that we can treat animals and people with respect and consideration.  I have lost faith in general and somehow like all of us, that needs to turn around.

So maybe there is a safe place in our hearts and maybe Sherlock has a safe place or will find a kind loving home in the briar patch.  Maybe Alice will show up with tea and a tuna cake for him and the tin man will offer some hope.  Let’s just hope that is true for all of us.

 

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What about love…


The other day I received a private message on Facebook.  It was much like a chain letter that had to be sent to 20 people I love and back to the person who sent it, unless of course I did not love that person.  Whew!  Such guilt.  It is as if some Mother was trying to get her child to behave and laying on the guilt.  It even provided instruction of how to send to 20 people.

Silly me, I was curious what the method of instructions would offer so I did as it said only to find that the message then was sent to some people I am only friendly with. Some may be not even so much as friendly.  To say the least it was awkward.  So then I had to make a post on Facebook addressing the issue that this had been sent to a few.  Further explaining that I am not a mushy sort and if I like you, you know it.  Absolutely nothing against the person who sent the private message.  So many these days feel they have to offer warm and cozy messages to the entire world.  Some also feel then need to tell us what the Bible says just to remind us to be good people, I guess.

So since the internet offers so much information, I decided to find out just what is meant by the word love.  Just as I thought Webster’s defines it as “a feeling of intense and constant affection for a person”  There is of course the sexual side of love which Webster’s also offers….for the most part though that can be mere infatuation.  My thought, not Webster’s.

The Brits have a lovely way of referring to someone who is a dear as “love”.  More or less for a kind, helpful person yet it goes beyond that and acts like “you” many times in conversation such as “thanks love”.  It actually makes the day a little bit better when that is said.  All the while knowing that the person does not love you, simply offering a little softer touch for everyone encountered.

After my post I received another message from the sender of the original chain message saying that “Love always counts”, like I don’t know love counts, yet for most people in many different ways.

Personally I don’t think love is something we can tell someone how to do, be or act.  Love as stated in the Bible (1 Corinthians)  since so many who want to tell us how to love also refer to the Bible, yet perhaps have not really understood the message, is that love is patient, love is kind, love does not envy, does not boast, it is not proud.  People so many times spout love yet do not actually have love.  They are merely a resounding gong or clanging cymbal. It is what society has taught us, much like materialism.  It is something that is supposed to be said or expressed even if one does not actually know much about a person.

I think we have become a society that is very superficial, synthetic and truly without much depth.  People who know me, really know me, also know if I care for them or not.  They also know that I will leave a fancy dinner party, dressed in my best dress and shoes to come help them change a flat tire in the rain if that is indeed what they need.  That is demonstrating how I care for someone.  I do not have to say I care because it is a given.  I will tell my daughter I love her because she is family and that has a different meaning and should.

The 60s and 70s were a beautiful time in the world.  It was a love one another time yet it was a sincere time of love, not what we see today.  Somewhere along the way, love spouting has become a way to gain points.  To feel good.  To look better in the eyes of others when in actuality it should really be all about caring.

So I have learned a very valuable lesson.  Albeit an awkward one because quite frankly I am embarrassed that the message was sent to some I don’t even know very well.  They are on my Facebook page and I exchange posts with them because I feel they are either like minded or they have a different slant on things then I may encounter in my world in a small town.  To tell them that I love them, though is whoa, way out there with Mars.  It is so inappropriate I can’t even come up with the words to express.  So I will be much more careful now with my curiosity of how things work on Facebook.  I will stick to my old values, my old ways and operate as I always have with a big caring heart that doesn’t need a billboard to make it known.

My Dad always offered a grace, blessing if you will over family dinners….and that went…
blessed oh Father and these thy gifts which we are about to partake and make us ever mindful of the needs and wants of others.

That more or less sums it up….”make us ever mindful of the needs and wants of others” which would mean across the board caring without discrimination or selectiveness.  The world would be so much better if we could just be more mindful and caring.  Less superficial, less in need of personal recognition and strokes. Less need to broadcast love when we only feel like.  If we could just change tires in the rain for that friend in need and offer a dinner, not left overs, to a homeless person on the street, gosh just think what could happen.

So if someone thinks I need to send a message back to them for them to know I care, then they really have missed the point of life and love for that matter.

Please be mindful of the needs and wants of others…it will indeed make the world a better place and your world as well.

 

 

 

 

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The Loss


Loosing someone to violence is something that one never really overcomes. Not really.  The emotions are swept under the rug or tucked away in the back of the mind hoping that the impact will just fade away with time.  For the most part it does.

Then a song plays or a breeze touches the cheek in just the right way to stir an emotion regardless of how long ago the time.

It has been almost 31 years since I lost my husband to murder.  Wrong place, wrong time was the basic outlook of most.  There was much more to it then that yet to move on with life, I had to accept the words offered by those around me.

As a song streamed from the CD player (yes I know I am behind the times, yet I have stacks of CDs and love many of them. Each morning I pop a CD in and begin my day with a bit of music) the rhythm gave me the sensation of the roll of the water as the sailboat would slip through the bay when John and I sailed.  I could feel the salt air breezing by my face and almost could smell the sea.  It brought about a huge rush of longing.  Of emotion and to have just one more sail slipping so beautifully across the water.  No other sound then the boat moving gracefully through the roll of the water and the beautiful wake flowing behind.  The sails full, the seagulls flying happily behind in a gleeful follow.

Those were the best times.  Times of which I have tried to repeat yet have yet to be able to find that same tone.  That same sense of peace.  That same breeze.

I suppose like all people who endure a loss especially one a result of violence there is that one memory that stays and stays yet also comes and goes as life has to move forward.  It is that one memory that we long to recreate.  We long to have one more time or actually if we are honest, many more times.

I wasn’t a sailor when I met John.  It was his kind of test of people though whether or not they took to it.  If they didn’t then I guess they were left at the shore forever and the others who meshed with the sea, were kept.  I immediately took to the entire notion.  I loved the environment.  I loved the purity of sailing.  No nasty buzz of a motor polluting the water.  No nasty odor of the engine.  No intrusive noise.  I grew to love sailing in all types of weather and the beat of the sun or pound of the rain became pure joy.

We sailed beautifully together once I learned the ropes…and ropes it was.  We developed a dance with the wind.  A dance together as a duo sailing the sea.  As I look back we were probably from a distance rather elegant looking.  The rhythm of our movements each knowing what to anticipate and each taking the next move to send the boat up with the wind.

I have sailed with others and enjoyed it yet I have yet to find that purity of sailing that we had.  I sailed with a wonderful woman who was so kind to take me several times after John passed.  She was an excellent sailor having participated in racing off the coast of Connecticut.  She indeed knew her boat and the sea.  One would perhaps have called her an old salt however she wasn’t old just an extremely experienced and good sailor.  It gave me comfort to be with her on her boat yet it did not achieve that realm of joy.

Another time I sailed with a guy from Norway who claimed to have crossed the Atlantic in his boat which was a tattered piece of junk.  Barely seaworthy in my mind.  He was an absolutely awful sailor.  He had no sense of the wind, nor any common sense at all.  One time we ended up in the shipping channel.  A huge tanker was approaching, blowing its horn loudly telling us to get the hell out of the way.  He wrung his hands like some panic child who had wet his pants and was doomed for a scolding.

Our lives were at stake and he had no clue what to do.  I began barking commands at him and fortunately we were able to raise the sails and just in the nick of time catch the wind. As the tanker slipped by us, we rocked like a bobbing bowey.  I never sailed with the guy again.

Yet I love the thought of sailing and as the music played on this morning those time came clearly back.  Yet not really back.  Just the sensation.  But oh to have those days back of sailing so peacefully would indeed be glorious.  To feel that salt breeze across the face. To gently rock with the flow of the sea slipping under and around the boat.  To see the sails full on with the wind…..oh those glorious days.  Those ever so glorious days.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Zip, Zap…zip, zip, zap


It stings sometimes to read the written word.  Comments.  Replies to a short note that was intended to bring a smile or laughter rather then anger.  It brings the mood down and costly energy has to be mustered to regain the level of calm before the zap of the reply.

It comes really in all forms though, not just the written word.  News arrives of one getting what you really want to have happen in your life yet you have helped it happen in someone else’s.  That feels like a zip, zip.  Bits being torn from your soul and the question pops up of why can’t I reach the same level of gain.  Not so much in the way of materialism more so in the way of life events shaking out to create good in ones life yet not in another.

The more one has, the more they seem to have.  So it is said that it is the law of attraction and that may be true.  Yet some of us are so entrenched in just getting through a day and try to find our way that we can not really attract too much.  Sometimes not even lunch.

In the case for me, I have cats.  None of which I wanted, yet they needed help.  Food, care, homes.  The day is consumed by just trying to keep things clean, tidy and somewhat orderly so that the house feels ok.  At one time I had nice things.  I don’t any longer or so it seems to me I don’t.  Pets have a way of redecorating that is really not my style or desire.  I live with it though and question myself all the time, of why.

I am not an advocate of rehoming particularly because animals become attached and it doesn’t seem fair that they have to readjust yet at times like in my current situation, it is what needs to be done.  Like many things though, people will look the other way because to them it is too difficult to deal with and besides for now the situation is under control.

The buck is passed and there comes the zap.  Reaching out to those who may help and only silence comes is a reminder that one is really on their own with most situations.   An attempt to share a story, or even a rare whoa-is-me hits a blank space.  Zapped right out of no where.  Yet the ear must be offered and a helping hand must be given in the reverse situation.  Thus the zapper gains rather then gives.  A dance then begins and continues. One learns to live their life in silence and put up a strong front albeit a threadbare one behind the door.

We live in such a farcical race that it seems there is not time any more to stop, listen for a little while or read the gaps between the words of a short message, to feel a bit of compassion, to reach back to offer a hand, a smile or a simple nice reply.  Rather we zip, zap…zip, zip, zap leaving the other person in the zapper’s ever so glorious dust.

Life is trying at times, mostly because of having cats.  The restraints they place on a day.  The expense.  The demands.  True of all type of pets.  I am glad that I know I try to act from a position of kindness.  Of compassion.  Understanding and open mindedness.  Am I right all the time, certainly not yet I will always have empathy for most people, for animals and I guess I will do what I can do make a life a bit better for all along the way.

The zips, the zaps may sting however a new day dawns and offers the opportunity search, see, and forgive.  Now if only the cats would understand about zips and zaps.  If only.

Zippity, Zappity, Zip to a new day.

 

 

 

 

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A Music Event


As I have done most of my adult life, I seek out music performances as I can afford and convenient to attend.  This past evening was one of those times.

I really didn’t know what to expect.  Contemporary jazz arrangements of traditional Christmas music.  Wow was I so delighted at what the evening brought.  We rocked, we rolled.  We were melodically touched.  Then there was this wonderfully clear, perfect fitting voice from a young woman I have known for a few years yet never knew her singing voice.  She absolutely meshed perfectly with the world renowned musicians of the trio she sang with.

One of the musicians, the bass player is her brother.  He has an incredible resume as do the other two men on guitar and drums.  The four combined though were indeed a treat.

It is these types of performances I seek and what held me to the area where I am when I sold a historic building after long years of trying.  My plans were always to leave then the year prior to selling these events began happening a block from me and I could not resist.

I enthusiastically went to the weekly jam sessions.  Shared dinner around a big table.  Fun conversation.  Then the music.  It brought so much to my life that I could not move away.  Yet a year or so later it was all over and there was a huge void again as there had been the years of living in the small community with no culture.

Now when I get an email notice of a music event, I quickly respond to assure a place.  Last night it was packed.  Many new people or maybe they have been around now for a couple years and I just have not encountered them.  Some of the old guard still come, most however I notice are very uncomfortable talking with me, so I leave as soon as the performance is over.

Yesterday evening it would have been a treat to talk with the musicians and learn more about their lives other then the professional side.  They are each highly sought after yet there has to be more to them then that even though the accomplishment is tremendous.

I did have an opportunity to hug the singer and encourage her on.  This was her first performance other then singing in a small church in the small community.  Her voice and stage presence deserves higher recognition and reward.  She was so full of joy and shared that she absolutely loved the performing which was so evident as she moved from one song to the next.  She brought that pure joy to those attending.

Now for me, my house is selling and the road ahead leads way out of town. There will be an empty space of missing these performances yet one can not live for a periodic performance.  There has to be more.  There has to be conversation.  Dinners shared with friends.  Laughter and joy rather then guarded chat fearing that those who rule will notice the exchange.

So I will have to seek other performances on a different horizon however those yesterday evening will always remain in my memories as absolutely pure, uplifting joy.  There will be the regret of not having had a chat with each musician to know them more deeply.  To learn of the person behind the talent yet as sometimes happens in life, the music remains in the heart and we simply must enjoy the song as we move down the path to different horizons.

For now as the road rises in front of me, I am so grateful I have had the opportunity to witness such talent.  To hear such beautiful music, such a clear beautiful voice.  That in itself is a tremendous gift.

So I am very grateful for the music in the past, now and in the future.  It is what brings fullness to life.

 

 

 

 

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