Granpaw's View: CHEQUE LIST and BALANCE SHEET

LAUNCHING PAD

Wandering and wondering, I mutter to myself about the glory and gore of life that fill my vision and haunt the dreams at night, that carry me on the crest of waves...surging and cresting to crash in the trough that lies between...only to rise again and reveal sky that promises life and beauty beyond dreams and visions...sky that curtains the mystery of universe and its creator.

The mind and soul adrift, quest for meaning in the unknown, and from faint whispers that echo in chambers of the heart...until divine intervention gives a gentle nudge, or perhaps a kick in the butt to send one free-falling from flights of fantasy. Over-powering fright paralyzes extremities, then all is tranquilized as one sees the view below from which escape had been sought. Who would have thought such beauty lay beneath the skies?

“I’m coming!” My heart pounds with the thrill of viewing the contour of land and sea from high above, until knowledge of sudden meeting jabs desperation into action. Limbs flail and search for a rip cord until fingers find the ring and pull with hope that finds its meaning in sudden, gentle descent. Again there is time to view and choose one’s landing...a place where earth is cushioned with carpet of green, and dotted with flowers whose variegated colors reflect emotions rarely expressed.

Morning has arrived and consciousness awakened to the discovery of another day...a day shaped by dreams and visions of the night...a discovery that not all that is worth pursuing lies beyond the clouds. Beauty and love live within my house and beyond its walls. Discovery is yet to be found and shared. Visions are yet to be told of hope that soars above the skies and bounces earthward to those in darkness of despair. Joy is yet to be born and celebrated. And so in these wanderings I find myself a puppy of wondermutt.

Monday, June 15, 2020

CHEQUE LIST and BALANCE SHEET

It's hard to believe that it's been over a year since I dared to hit the stop button and sort out the words that have generate and float my skull's hemispheres. It seems harder to grab a particular one than it used to be. Words and ideas are as illusive as the feral cat that sleeps on our back deck. When I do managed to grab on to something, it may come out as nonsense, a question, an exclamation or an answer to which I have forgotten the question...it may even reflexively leave a painful scratch.

I wish that memories were as sharp as the claws of that feral cat, whom we call Phantom. However, there are advantages to some memories being as dull and foggy as a Portland morning in springtime. What was it that was planned for today? What didn't get done yesterday? What was so important for me to remember, and what could safely be forgotten? I know there was something around the house that I was supposed to repair! One needs a check list to keep things straight.