Day 312 Maze

October 17, 2015

(If we live with an open and grateful attitude, every day will bring a gift. This is one of 365 gifts during the year I turned 70.)

After a sound sleep last night, my sisters and I arose and dealt with a simple breakfast. Since our breakfast nook area in the basement was on the dark side and outdoors was calling me, I took my breakfast outside to eat. It was a chilly, bright day. I could not make myself stay downstairs in a dark area when nature was beckoning. I ate breakfast outside, met our host Becky who is also a teacher and enjoyed the beginning of a bright day. I encouraged my sisters to eat outside also but the cold bothered them too much. 

 

We eventually went to Harper’s Ferry and walked about, going in and out of various shops. We began our Christmas shopping. One of the best stores was a fair trade store, a business that encourages arts and crafts in third world countries and pays a realistic wage to the artists. There were hundreds of interesting things, many made out of recycled material. 

After that, we found a cornfield maze and dared to enter, although we all agreed that we might have been more reluctant had it been after dark. Step by step, we made our way. I was under the assumption that there was a center we were attempting to find, like a British labyrinth I once navigated.  This one seemed to have many false centers, however. I wonder how many false centers I have encountered in my lifetime and if I have ever recognized them.

Maybe the object of navigating a labyrinth is not to find the center but to feel successful when you are able to find a way out. Does it matter if I end at the beginning rather than the end? Does it matter if there is no center? Perhaps the journey is enough.

My gift today is a journey through a labyrinth.

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> Day 313: Girls' Nights Out

You can find links to my other posts on this project here:

http://bjschupp.blogspot.com/2014/12/365-gifts.html

Day 19 - Puggle Lesson

December 28, 2014

(This is day 18 of a 365 project during my 70th year, each day a gift.)

In spite of covering my ears with blankets, it didn’t work—grand-doggie Roxy awakened me at 6 a.m. this morning. Staying with us while our daughter and son-in-law are in Florida,  this dog is perpetual hunger personified. The early morning wake up is the down-side of dog-sitting. The up-side is walking in Downs Park, something we both love to do.

These walks are always an adventure for me, even if I go there every day. With a canine companion, an extra layer is added. I’ve noticed that even a puggle can make me think about how to live my life:

•  Stop to smell everything. You never know what you will find. 

•  Play with falling leaves as if looking foolish were the coolest thing in the world. 

•  It’s okay to run around in circles as long as you feel joy. 

•  Stop often to leave something of youself behind so others will know you have been there. 

•  Sometimes it is good to chase something, even if you don’t understand it.

• Take your time pooping and don’t forget to look around. You don’t want to miss anything. 

•  Pick your nose up off the ground so you can see the deer watching you. 

•   On your journey, travel with a sweeping motion to experience both sides of the path.

Today’s gift is a puggle lesson.

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> DAY 20 Dome

You can read my other posts on this project here:

http://bjschupp.blogspot.com/2014/12/365-gifts.html

Time, Numbers, Lists and Questions

A few days ago, on August 28, 2013, I calculated that I have lived for 25,098 days.

This number, 25,098, sparks some questions. What if I were to live as long as my mother did and no longer? My mother lived for 28, 259 days, the last several years of her life filled with the challenges of living with diabetes and Parkinson’s.

How much time might I have left if I were to follow my mother’s path? My sloppy math suggests that I have approximately 3,161 days left of my life. That translates to 75,864 hours. If I assume that I will sleep eight hours each day, then that leaves me with 50,576 waking hours or the equivalent of 5.77 years of wakeful time left. 

Wow! That’s not long at all. How am I going to spend that time? What do I want to accomplish yet before my footprints fade?

Hmmm. I think about how many hours our TV runs all day and night. Let’s just say that I will watch four hours of TV a day. Or maybe two hours of TV and two hours checking on my Facebook friends, reading e-mail and learning new things on the computer. That will leave me with roughly 4.33 equivalent years to fill with other things. 

Then I continue thinking about how I want to be as happy as possible for my remaining days and also maybe leave some part of me behind. Every five years or when I feel my life is out of balance, I make a list of what I need to be happy; it helps me to see what I need to adjust. My most recent “happiness” list includes these multi-faceted elements: love, creativity, adventure, connections/acceptance, solitude, learning, independence, beauty, dreams, balance/stability.

More questions invade my thinking as I envision the hands of the clock whirling faster and faster.

How much time each day do I allow for the things that make me happy and for the dream of leaving behind an important part of myself?

How much does television and social media contribute to my happiness?

Do I want to spend these last precious years accumulating and dealing with things? What things, literal and figurative, can I discard that clutter my life? (I should have added to my happiness list that I need space…not a lot but enough to feel I’m not being invaded by stuff. This will allow more metaphorical space to open up which nourishes spirit.)

And one final question--how much time have I taken to contribute to someone else's happiness? 

Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish

I just listened to a 2005 Stanford University commencement speech by Steve Jobs, CEO and co-founder of Apple and Pixar. It is a 15-minute thought-provoking message worth listening to. If you do, you will understand the title of this blog.



You can hear more fascinating speeches on Ted.

Passing Through Life

Larry Ettlin
1939 - 2009

Read David Ettlin's moving piece on his brother: http://ettlin.blogspot.com/2009/10/mourning-my-brother.html
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Brain

Six days before my 64th birthday
I see pictures of my brain.
It’s hard to relate to these intestine-like grooved tubes,
stuffed sausages crammed into a small space.

How can thoughts move through these cramped recesses?
How can they find their way through the mazed passageways?
Where are the emotions?

I search for evidence why my body had slipped into numbness for hours,
all feelings numb except fear.
The dark and light places mean nothing to my untrained eye.

There is a disconnect between this twisted mass and the life I live
where a touch behind my toes sends tingles shooting throughout my universe,
where the last cricket song touches a hidden chord deep inside me,
where I taste a salted tear born of uncontrollable laughter,
where honeysuckle whiffs from dips in the road,
where your eyes reassure me that I am.

These pictures aren’t me.
They are only a landscape of cranial crevices,
in an invisible creative sphere
called life.

Listen to the still...

Listen to the still...

Notice I didn't say, Listen to the stillness.

No.

Stillness is full of absence of sound
and all it can touch.


Stillness is a void.

Still is not like its dead cousin.
It is fully alive.

Stillness is a space.
Still is a place
abundant in gifts.
It is a place of the heart and mind and soul.
The still is filled with spirit.

Stillness offers no answers but
the still leads you to the answers.