2012 07 13 Fill 'Er Up!

I often wonder if my time here on this big blue spinning marble is going to be considered time well spent. I often wonder just how each day gets filled up by so much, without really even trying. I often feel like I am being judged, like I am being compared to, like I am trying to do just a little better than the next one.

The next what? What am I being compared to? What am I filling my days up with? How do they all just get, filled up?

I woke up at five past five this morning, wide awake, and with the sound of a crow hollering down the road, it was evident that the day had indeed started getting filled up with, things. The sun was still thinking about peeking its head up over the tree tops. All of the things that tend to fill a day up were all lining up, checking their schedules, waiting their turns, whispering to each other as they patiently got ready to take their place, filling up the day.

Where do they come from? Did I buy them on sale and store them in a closet one night while sleepwalking my way through another night? Did I hit the home shopping network one day and buy a life's supply of things? Is this all pre-sorted out, with my name on it all? Was it double coupon day at the local market? How do they just, "appear", like that. Every day, one after the other, one at a time, until another day is filled up again, and night comes around it's like, umm, wicked weird. It's so unexplainable. . I'm telling you, it's just simply incredible.

Its six thirty now. The dogs are walked, watered and fed. The cardinal has made his beautiful six o'clock in the morning call. The guy down the street with the loud truck has already gone by, on his way to work, and here I am once again, sitting in front of my computer, wondering what to write. I feel like I am supposed to write something, so away I go.

You ever feel like their is something you are supposed to be doing? You ever feel like the world isn't spinning quite right until you figure out what it is and get on with it? How do we know what 'it' is? How do we instinctively know where we are supposed to be, and what we are supposed to be doing?  It's pretty amazing that the world isn't full of six billion people, wandering around, bumping into each other, with no clue what to do, where to go, or who to do it with. It's just simply amazing, if you think about it that is.

Listen. Did you hear that? Another car just went by, on its way to, somewhere it's supposed to be. Just simply amazing. All of this stuff, one after the other, One by one. Who sorts out all of this stuff anyways? I mean, just wait a second, and, there it is! Whappo! Whammie! Pow! Some more stuff, right over there, coming this way! Incoming!

Coco the horse dog is right where she is supposed to be. Deena the dainty is right where she is supposed to be. My feet are crossed, under my computer desk, right where they are supposed to be, or' well', maybe I shouldn't have them crossed. There. Better.

Last night, I listened to a song by Arcade Fire before I went to bed; it's the song, "Suburbs" from the album of the same name. I woke up with it playing in my head, and it's still playing, an hour and a half later, just like it's supposed to be? Really? I mean, it's a catchy tune and all, but, really? Is this how one goes about filling their day up? By listening to Arcade Fire? I didn't even know about this band a year ago. How did they just show up this morning, and start filling my day up? Do I have to pay them royalties or something? I hope not, cuz I didn't sign up for them. I mean, I don't heaven have any premium channels with the discounted package plan that I, umm, filled up my day with.

Once again, I seem to find myself off on a tangent, writing about non pertinent information that really has no bearings on much of anything. Maybe I should just hit control, home, then control, shift, end, delete. No. I don't think so.

I think I will continue to be amazed at just how neatly things fill up my days. I will just keep trying to figure it all out, while at the same time, not having a clue how to. I think I will take all of this stuff in stride and be grateful that at the end of the day, I have a place to lay my head, so I can try to unwind and sort out all of the stuff that has filled up the day.

No wonder we dream so much. It's a wonder we can sleep at all with all of the stuff swimming around up there, up here, "tapping my melon". It's a wonder anything ever gets done, with all of this stuff going on. Everywhere you look. It never stops. It just keeps on being, stuffed up with stuff.

There, see? Quarter of seven and the blue jay is banging the seed open on the kitchen window feeder. Just like he's supposed to. Seamlessly, like a well oiled machine, chugging along, very nicely. So goes the day.

What am I going to do next? I mean, this blog post is coming to a screeching halt, and I'll have to save it, then spell check it, just like I'm supposed to. What am I going to do after that? Where will the next stuff come from? What will I do with it? Will I have a choice what I can do, or who I can do it with? Is there an inventory list somewhere containing all of this, stuff?

It's like pulling into a gas station, rolling the window down, and hollering out to the attendant, "Fill 'er up!"

2012 07 09 I Feel Like...

I feel like, umm, I feel as though, err, I feel that I, I feel?

How do I feel? Let me count the ways. How am I supposed to feel?? What is everyone else feeling? What are they feeling about?

I think it's fair to say that feelings pretty much run a good part of my day. I start it off by feeling like I should get up. I usually end the day by feeling like I should go to bed. All of the other feelings during the day get me from point A to point B, with usually no problems, unless I feel like having problems.

I have been bombarded with thirty two thousand seven hundred and ninety three different emotions, yes, you got it, since that wicked weird day that I endured back in early July of 2010. So many different emotions, feelings, psyche swings, scattered nerve ending responses, the whole shebang. Is shebang a word? Hello Mr. Spellchecker!

Most times, I am not aware of my feelings, I just react along with them, seeing as how they go together so well. Isn't it funny how we sometimes trip over one feeling, just to get to another one?

Feelings. A seamless union of mind and matter. What we see, hear, touch, smell, taste, cause reactions which are all twisted up with feelings. Woa-woa-woa feeeeeeeeelings. Stupid song.

Now don't get me wrong. I'm no expert in the subject. Not in the least. I'm trying to figure them out, just like a long list of, everybody else on the face of this big blue spinning marble. A very long list indeed. I don't know if I know what I'm feeling. I don't know if I know what to call the feeling I'm feeling. I don't really know how to feel when I can't pinpoint the feeling that I'm, umm, feeling. I don't know if I should be feeling, or if I should not be feeling. I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, but I feel as though I have it pretty well figured out.

The swelling tides of emotions, feelings, come rushing in again and again, no matter how much of a handle we think we have on them. They don't care about common misperceptions, or afflicted ignorance of the subject at hand, they just keep coming, and coming, and coming.  Relentless little buggers, full of spite, and vengeance, and reluctance, and tormented guilt.

On a happier note, lest we forget the happy, the joyous, the innocence, the affectionate tugs at the heart.

Let's focus on these for just a second.

Ok, time's up!

Smile.

Fact is, most of the time, I have no clue how to handle, or react to feelings. I haven't a vague notion which way to turn, only that I need to turn either this way, or that. There I go, being half right again.  What if I wasn't supposed to go left or right at all? What if I was just supposed to stand right here and just, feel? How ironic. I like that word ironic. I don't use it much. Isn't it ironic that I would choose not to use a word that I like so much? How do I feel about that?

I don't know what, or how to feel most of the time, I just take the stupid things, the feelings things, and run with them. I might as well, I mean, I look down, and my feet are moving. Usually that means it's me, taking them, and running with them. What a novel conception. What the heck am I talking about? I feel as though I may have just lost a lot of you. For those of you still strapped in, let us move on.

A lot of the feelings that I, umm, feel, are brought on by this lovely environment. Yes, I know, I am the center of it all, but still, a little help please, and thank you. An ever changing structural co-existence, brought on by an ever increasing need to, umm, co-exist. How cleverly evident, don't you think? Our environment reacts, therefore, we react right along with it. And here they come again, FEELINGS! How convenient.

I have had some unpredictable reactions in the past couple years. I have had some internal environmental developmental changes also, which have sent the feelings meter into a momentous needle meter fluctuation that has sent me cascading up, down, and around a spiral staircase, along side Dorothy, the house, and a tornado, looking down over a field full of poppies.

How did she feel anyway, getting sucked up like a donut crumb through an electro-lux hose? She must have been feeling quite a few different things I would imagine? And her little dog, too!

I realize that I am once again, rambling, but it feels so good. It feels wonderful. It feels like a slice of heaven. It feels as though I am standing beside myself, with tremendous outbursts of internal joy and compounded exuberance which shimmers with radiant illuminations through the pounding chambers of my beating heart. Whew. Had to catch my breath on that one.

I have hit the full spectrum of this emotional wheel of feelings. I have felt them all, dealt with them all, enjoyed some, and despised some more. I am no different than any one else though. These feelings, things, they aren't just mine. They belong to us all. Share and share alike. No need to get greedy with them. No need to hog them all. No need to think that yours are any better, or worse than anyone else's. No need to, feel, like they're all yours.

My sister told me once, of a saying that she uses to bring everything into perspective.

"Stop. Breathe. This is it."

That was it. Did you stop and take a second? Did you pause and take a deep breath? Did you feel the moment pass through your existence? Did you feel it? Did you take it all in? Did you step back and try to grab it before it slipped through your fingers? Did it feel wonderful? Did it feel exhilaratingly electrifying? Did you feel as though something special happened, and you were a part of it? Did it feel great? Did it feel totally awesome? Did you feel angry that you didn't just take the opportunity to grab a clue? Did you feel it at all?

I mean, did you really really feel it?

Did you?

Really?

2012 07 01 "Hello Mr. Hosta!"

"Hello Mr. Hosta. And how are you today?

I know I haven't been out to see you in a while, and I'm sorry. Believe me, it frustrated me probably as much as it did you. As much as it did all of you. And how are all of you anyways? Now, let me drop down to the ground and, "groan", there we go.

Now, let's have a look at you. I can't believe after two years of being neglected by yours truly, it's amazing how well you all are still doing. I know, I know. It's my fault. All of it. I know. I said I was sorry, didn't I? Ok then. Sheeesh. I guess I just wasn't ready to get to you before this, and I know you won't understand. How could you ever understand something as complicated as this anyways, I mean, after all, you're just a clump of plants. Very nice looking plants if I may say so.

Round and round the tree you go. One clump after another. I remember when I planted you little guys, all six of you, around this big maple tree. At first I wondered if you would grow, mainly because every other thing I put around this tree, well, it just never did well.

Oh yes, I was skeptical that you guys would do well, and look at you now! My oh my!

I do love the big leaves of you all green guys, but I think I am partial to the smaller leaved verigated fellows. My spell checker is having a fit with that word. Oh well. You just seem to have more character, and of course, I can see a little hint of the light stripes of your leaves. Yes, I think I like you guys best of all.

Who put all these weeds in here? Boy I'd like to get my hands on the, ha ha. Just kidding. I mean, weeds are people too. I just wish they would stay far, far away from you guys, and from the rest of my flowering friends. Shrubs and bushes too! Leave! Scram! Vamoose!

Is vamoose a word? If it isn't, it should be.

There now, one group done, and five to go. I think I'll have to dig up this circling wall of bricks and reset them. They look like the winters have taken their toll on them.

Round and round the tree we go. Hmm? It seems that one clump is missing. What's this pile of dirt beside where this clump used to be?

Grrrr! I know what it is! It's Charlie the wood chuck! That little! What is it with him and hostas? I mean, it was just two summers ago that he dug a huge hole right in the middle of the hostas in front of the porch! That little! I bet he's the culprit behind this missing clump of hostas.

What is it with him and hostas anyways?

I think I'll have to dig up a small clump from the huge area of hostas in the flower garden this fall and place it where this missing one used to be.

Ok, where was I? Ahh yes, I remember. The bricks. I guess I'll just try and straighten them out as I work around the tree. One brick here, one brick there, and a couple of weeds, weeds, weeds. That's how we pass the time away, in the merry old land of, YEOOWWW! What in heck was? Ouch! Man oh man! Who put one of those pricky bushes in my hostas? Son of a. Medic!

Ok. Easy now. Where's the base of this stupid thing? Ouch! There it is!

I found it! Why am I hollering? I'm the only one out here. Ok, now how smart do I feel? Not very.

Ok, easy now. Grab this stupid thing, and, Ouch! Man oh man, this thing is out to get me.

Change four, plan six. Man over pricky bush. Mental advantage, human, hopefully.

One, two, two and a half, THREE! Hooray! Plant evicted! Stupid thing. I'll just throw you over there, and, back at it again.

Ok then, four clumps done, and one to go. Rut row. Horse Fly! Oh No! Horse Fly! Standard Tactical Defensive Procedure engaged. Stand up, scream like a girl, and start flailing arms wildly, hoping to smack the crap out of him

Ha Ha! Gotcha you little flesh biting, blood sucking Sherman tank with a kickstand! Who's the man! Who's the man! That's right! That's right! Yeooww! Why you little, I thought I got you? Ouch! Right in the back of the calf! Man that hurts! Stupid little bug! I hate you! Do you hear me?

Jeezum crow!

Ok. Focus. Where was I? Oh ya, last clump. Kneel down and, whoops, wrong side of the tree. Hehe. I'll just crawl around and, oww! What the heck is that! Oh cool. How clever am I? I just crawled over the picky bush weed thing that I pulled out and threw to the side. I must be the smartest man on the planet. Holy crap! Medic! I think I'll crawl the other way, and thank you very much.

There now, where's that last clump of hostas? Hello? Yoo hoo? Oh, hi there. And how have you been? Nice to hear. Who, me? Don't ask.

Ok then, pull, pull, straighten, pull, and finally, pull. Cool. All cleaned out. I must say, what a nice job. Not bad for a guy that can't, what the? Oh no! Incoming! Horse fly swarm at ten o'clock! Tango, Alpha, Mango, Foxtrot! That's it! I'm outta here! See you hostas next June, or maybe in six weeks.

Help! They're after me!

Run for the hills!"