“It’s so much darker when a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone.” – Steinbeck
Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o’er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air
Hides hill and woods, the river, and the heaven,
And veils the farmhouse at the garden’s end.
The sled and traveller stopped, the courier’s feet
Delated, all friends shut out, the housemates sit
Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed
In a tumultuous privacy of storm.
Come see the north wind’s masonry.
Out of an unseen quarry evermore
Furnished with tile, the fierce artificer
Curves his white bastions with projected roof
Round every windward stake, or tree, or door.
Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work
So fanciful, so savage, nought cares he
For number or proportion. Mockingly,
On coop or kennel he hangs Parian wreaths;
A swan-like form invests the hiddden thorn;
Fills up the famer’s lane from wall to wall,
Maugre the farmer’s sighs; and at the gate
A tapering turret overtops the work.
And when his hours are numbered, and the world
Is all his own, retiring, as he were not,
Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art
To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone,
Built in an age, the mad wind’s night-work,
The frolic architecture of the snow.
The air re-invents itself as, solid, insurmountable defeats.
And, wisdom of a mile transforms to glued retreat.
It is nothing but cabin fever…at the foot of a rural seat.
In good health, the air is cordial of incredible virtue. Crossing a bare common, in snow puddles, at twilight, under a clouded sky, without having in my thoughts any occurrence of special good fortune, I have enjoyed a perfect exhilaration. I am glad to the brink of fear.
I have found and/or rediscovered the most fascinating book. Its revelations, as important now, as it had been in 1926.
To be happy? To be content?
Perhaps, in the simplest of scientific notions:
Even now, with the limited knowledge at our command, we can control circumstances to the point of making the world without an expression of our own world within, where the real thoughts, the real power, resides. Through this world within you can find the solution of every problem, the cause for every effect.
Discover it- and all power, all possession is within our control.
the world without is but a reflection of the world within. Think happiness, feel happiness. But let fear and worry be our mantra? Fear and worry will be our constant companion.
Today…step out of the box!
‘The virtue in most requests is conformity. Self-reliance is its aversion. It loves not realities and creators, but names and customs!’
I am working on my third orthopedic surgery in as few as…6 months. I am also working on a good case against…growing old. As I sit with leg up, staring at the fake neon stars that I have plastered on my ceiling…I am chased by the ghost of…Ruth past…
A woman of vim and vigor. Outdoorsy and often likened to a forever Phys. Ed., teacher. No matter the meditation…gratitude can be so fleeting but dejection of self can be so…easy. So basic. As simple as, preferring rain over a sunny day.
However, in a spurt of wisdom, years ago, I choose an advocate. She is my wife. She is my life. And, certainly, she sets my shit straight when it starts to go awry!
Recently, out of the blue, whilst I sat in the blues…She said to me,
‘Even with your hair unwashed, bad breath and hopped up on pain medications, you inspire me. Hard to believe your cynicism grows sexier as you grow older!’
Alas, on that note…a thought from Dear old Ben,
The Paradox of Older Women and Young Girls! You choose!
Because as they have more Knowledge of the World and their Minds are better stor’d with Observations, their Conversation is more improving and more lastingly agreable.
Because when Women cease to be handsome, they study to be good. To maintain their Influence over Men, they supply the Diminution of Beauty by an Augmentation of Utility. They learn to do a 1000 Services small and great, and are the most tender and useful of all Friends when you are sick. Thus they continue amiable. And hence there is hardly such a thing to be found as an old Woman who is not a good Woman.
Because there is no hazard of Children, which irregularly produc’d may be attended with much Inconvenience.
Because thro’ more Experience, they are more prudent and discreet in conducting an Intrigue to prevent Suspicion. The Commerce with them is therefore safer with regard to your Reputation. And with regard to theirs, if the Affair should happen to be known, considerate People might be rather inclin’d to excuse an old Woman who would kindly take care of a young Man, form his Manners by her good Counsels, and prevent his ruining his Health and Fortune among mercenary Prostitutes.
Because in every Animal that walks upright, the Deficiency of the Fluids that fill the Muscles appears first in the highest Part: The Face first grows lank and wrinkled; then the Neck; then the Breast and Arms; the lower Parts continuing to the last as plump as ever: So that covering all above with a Basket, and regarding only what is below the Girdle, it is impossible of two Women to know an old from a young one. And as in the dark all Cats are grey, the Pleasure of corporal Enjoyment with an old Woman is at least equal, and frequently superior, every Knack being by Practice capable of Improvement.
Because the Sin is less. The debauching a Virgin may be her Ruin, and make her for Life unhappy.
Because the Compunction is less. The having made a young Girl miserable may give you frequent bitter Reflections; none of which can attend the making an old Woman happy.
seases with medicin only cure for loneliness, despair, and hopelessness is love. There are many in the world who are dying for a piece of bread but there are many more dying for a little love. The poverty in the West is a different kind of poverty — it is not only a poverty of loneliness but also of spirituality. There’s a hunger for love, as there is a hunger for God.”― Mother Teresa, A Simple Path: Mother Teresa
Sitting and thinking of what can be done? No different than pulling a shade to a knife fight in the street. Turning a back to a homeless person with a hand out. Seeing that change is needed and responding with…
“It is remarkable, that persons who speculate the most boldly often conform with the most perfect quietude to the external regulations of society. The thoughts alone suffice them, without investing itself in the flesh and blood of action.”
I am Brangien [Brangaine] of Weisefort, Ireland, lady-in-waiting to my cousin Isolde, who became promised to King Marc of Cornwall. His nephew Tristan escorted us to England by ship. But Tristan and Isolde fell in love at sea. As ye may know, or will find out, they cite the philter they drank as the cause, over which I was supposed to keep vigil. I would like to share my perspective of how I have created good in the world through my herbs and observations. There is much to tell, including how I have adopted this odd language. In good time. My life is in God’s hands. –Inspired by the modern French translations of the Tristan and Isolde texts