Life is...

Instead of asking, keep doing. Over and over.
Even through 300 lifetimes.
Or is it not that important to you?

haiku - Grief...

peace comes to a heart
that grieves for love lost, time lost
when next life begins

life...

is it where you've
been
or where you
end?

What end...

now December
and we are vigilant
who watch life pass
again.
again? you ask.
indeed.
life is a cycle
of days within seasons,
each richened by
those past.
not 'til our end
are we full
to bursting.
memories being
the greatest gifts
passed to those
remaining.

Census reflection...

Not only did Elisson win the last Haiku Challenge, he
has unknowingly provided me with blog fodder.

How wise is our government to provide us with a warning...
er, advance notice... to expect the census form in the mail.
What a clever way to spend tax dollars in double labor, paper,
ink, postage. I also took it as a way to insult my intelligence
but perhaps I'm being too sensitive.

Anyway, Elisson's post caused me to ponder what I was doing
when all those other censuses were happening...

1960- nine years old, living with parents and three siblings in
Uniontown, Ohio. The last sibling wasn't born until 1964, a
year or two after we moved to a farm in Portage County.

1970- Student at the University of Akron, majoring in nursing.
Soon to change major to education.

1980- Living in Florida for six years. Married for two years.
Working a shit job that lasted nine years.

1990- Still in Florida, still married. Working for the local
Safety Council.

2000- Still in Florida, widow for three years. Five years, at
this point, welding under a microscope.

2010- Still in Florida but unemployed for the last 15 months.
New love in my life and attempting to start my own business.
Contemplating relocation.

That would be my Reader's Digest condensed version.
May we all be around to blog, in much more detail, the
happenings that take us to 2020.

What was going on in your life?

crap. crap. crap...

Is it good? Is it bad? Is it better?

It's life.

It doesn't really change.
Some days are better than others.

At times, it feels like slogging through swampland.
Sinking a bit while flailing against the thick, hanging
vines and sticky cobwebs that impede progress even
more than the mucky path alone.

And, while flailing furiously, keeping a (paranoid?) eye out for
nasty critters hunching in and behind what is thought
of as debris but is really quite natural for that environment.

So.

Does that mean I am out of my environment? Or, is my focus
on the immediate obstacles overriding any observation, and
possible enjoyment, of things outside my tunnel vision?

If I widen my view, do I stumble over the obvious or can I keep
all elements, near and far, in their correct perspective?

Is life a swampy jungle or a rolling ocean?
Or both?
If so, then do I not need to continue slogging but
also be prepared to ride the waves?

Wait a minute...

where the hell did I put my life preserver?

as in...

breathe without
living, touch
without feeling.
Life without love.

It's a package deal...

...a mixed bag.

Life ain't always pretty.

I ain't always pretty. (yeah, surprise, right?)

24/7 doom and gloom, wail and whine.

STOP IT!

Tough times can be worked through. Alone or together.
Don't wait to be rescued. Save yourself. Do your job.
The job of living, not just surviving.

Whatever is beautiful, good, worthwhile... will be missed
and possibly lost if we don't look for it. Make the effort.

Not saying wrongs should be ignored. Or excused.
Work with it, fix it or make something better.
You can. We can. I can.

Time wasted. Time lost.
How much time do we have here?
Hold an ice chip between your fingers as it melts away.
That is how a day disappears when we wallow in the yuck.

We create our own balance. A constant juggling act.
Dodging, deflecting... and reaching.
Searching, wondering, finding.

Somedays, the only gratitude found is for still breathing.
It's a start.

Who am I talking to? Myself, just myself.

It isn't life that's disappointing...

it's us.