5.75 years later

Hooray, hooray, the First of May. No more wishing for springtime, the green is here and waiting for our attention.

I have numbered my posts since I started doing this daily back on Aug. 1, 2020, and every hundred days I get to write a post that ends in “00” (zero-zero). Today is post number 2,100. It’s always a time of a little extra reflection and contemplation.

Who am I to be inflicting my thoughts on the universe every darn day, anyway?

I am a writer with a song in my heart. The things that most make me feel like my life has a purpose are creating music and coaxing words together. At this stage in my life, my words do not travel as far as they once carried, although I’m aiming for different targets — hundreds if not thousands of people read my accounts of county board meetings and parade grand marshals, and these days I’m fortunate to reach a few dozen with my ramblings on a given morning. But perhaps I can have a greater impact on the few than I did on the many.

In hopes of putting better words together for today, I sat down in my old blue chair in the corner of my office. Some time ago I taped a hard copy of an old post next to the chair, in a spot you really can only see if you’re sitting in this chair. It’s the post where I swore off writing about politics and government and wondered aloud what I would write if I avoided those topics.

My mind immediately went to the fruits of the Spirit, and I copied the list — “love, joy, peace, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Against such things there is no law.”

What if, instead of looking for the latest outrage — and there always is at least one — we spent our time looking for examples of gentleness or kindness or goodness? What if we not consider our day complete until we have found those examples? 

I suspect we would be encouraged by how easy it is to find love, joy and peace abounding in so many places beyond those halls of power we let distract us from reality all the time.

a stack of things I haven’t done

In case you don’t generally click the “Related” posts at the bottom of the page, here’s one you missed yesterday, originally posted Aug. 6, 2024. I don’t remember writing this but I’m glad I did.

I could take a dog for a walk through the forest and the fields,

but there’s a stack of things I haven’t done.

I could go to a beach and watch the waves come in and stick my toes in the sand, 

but there’s a stack of things I haven’t done.

I could read a book full of adventure or insight or both,

but there’s a stack of things I haven’t done.

I could listen to music or make some,

but there’s a stack of things I haven’t done.

I could get in the car and not stop until I reach a place I’ve never seen,

but there’s a stack of things I haven’t done.

I could call some old friends or write them a note,

but there’s a stack of things I haven’t done.

For every impulse I have to do something wonderful,

there’s a stack of other somethings I haven’t done.

When I’m breathing my last, it won’t be all said and done — 

there’ll be a stack of things I haven’t done.

And so I walk with the dog and I find me a beach,

I listen to music and write an old friend,

because the stack of things I haven’t done must wait a little longer while I go live a life.

Inspiration

“This is the beginning of what comes next,” he said as the wind blew. “I look around this world, and I know it doesn’t have to be this way.”

“And so —?” she asked.

“I can imagine everything changing,” he said, gesturing. “I see these things there and those things here and that whole section gone entirely.”

“And where am I in all this?” she asked wildly.

“You,” he said, drawing her near, “are everywhere.”