Writing for Sanity's Sake

I’ve got to go to a place very deep inside me, and think for a while. I don’t go there very often, perhaps not often enough. I let the things of the world take me over..pay too much attention to issues of no importance as if they really mattered a hill of beans. In reality nothing matters as much as the peace that can be found in that deep, dark and secret place that dwells in all of us. Call it what you will.

For so many years I did not take care of my spirit’s dwelling place. I abused it with improper fuel, not enough rest, and too hard and extreme of a work ethic. Also too much worry over insignificant things. I did not have nearly enough respect for the precious home I was created into.

I can never totally undo the damage I have done through my neglect and apathy, but I try hard every day now to preserve and improve upon what I have left. By doing so, I feel closer to the creator. I feel more affinity for nature and its beauty. I feel more respect for all other life.

I wish and hope by continuing on this path to live a better and perhaps longer “rest of my life” All of you who are younger, you have even a better chance than I do of becoming more fulfilled. Please use that chance, you will shine brighter if you do.

I have passed by this trestle all my life that I can remember. It’s an icon for me, as those of you who even remotely look at my posts will already know. It demonstrates to me over the last few year how things can change. It has gone from rusty black to shiny white with a flag. But still there are those reflections in the water. Those reflections. Our lives are reflections. We are reflections of who we have grown up with, of where we have grown up. We are reflections of our experiences be they bad or good. We are reflections of the unknown.

I have had the privilege of living in seven decades, in two different centuries, and two different millenia. How many people can say that? It has all been good. I have not accomplished nearly as much as I thought I would, but it has been good. I will continue to go on, and I will now reflect the values which I have gathered over this unique time in which I live. Many don’t agree with me, some do. I anger some people. Some I do not. I am what I am, I cannot help it. I reflect my nature into the river of life which flows past me each and every day, just as surely as the railroad trestle casts it’s reflection into the Chattooga river. I am the old, rusty black trestle. I think it casts a deeper and more moving reflection. I hope that as I continue to live, I can affect my children and grandchildren to have values which they will not compromise, because they will need them in the future as their own river runs beneath them.

What we have here is only borrowed. We think we own land, houses, cars and other possessions, but we do not. We often care for our possessions more than we care for the people around us. People who have more money than they can ever spend themselves horde it instead of giving just a little of it to make more people comfortable.

We own nothing. Everything we think we own is simply borrowed for the short time we are here on earth. Our bodies are our own, but even those will be turned back into dust once we’re finished with them. Depending on your belief system we go from there to a known….or greatly unknown existence, or a lack of one.

We should act as borrowers then, and in my own personal system of belief, be grateful to the one to whom we are really indebted. Even if one does not believe in a supreme being, they should still exhibit enough humanity to share their good luck.

Our debt will be up for payment one day, and the only…the one and only thing which will matter, is how we have treated our fellow debtors. No matter how you believe.

We have all seen them. Beautiful Sunrises. Mornings when the light turns dozens of colors behind a scant screen of clouds. Everything from muted purples to magentas, to bright blood red. How does a beautiful Sunrise make you feel?

For me the beginning of the day, which is signified by that marvelous sunrise, symbolizes a daily rebirth. A new beginning, a time when everything is new again and all options for doing things wonderful, useful, loving, and kind are open. It renews my soul. It tells me in no uncertain terms that I am alive, and that I have been treated to the sight of some of the most beautiful colors on God’s own palette. I give thanks for life and the chance to live it. To experience other people, people who I love and who love me. To touch another person, even to simply shake hands or to brush back the hair of my daughter, my granddaughter, or my wife from their foreheads is an experience that I will only get to enjoy once. Just once, that I will remember in any case.

I can taste food for another day and hear music. I don’t really even care what kind most of the time…I generally like it all. I get the privilege of talking and interacting with other people, most of the time in a positive manner. All of this starts with the beautiful Sunrise that I saw this morning.

Then the other night going to take my granddaughter to soccer practice, there was a stupendous Sunset. How does a gentle sunset make you feel?

The colors were a similar palette as was the Sunrise, but the feeling was different. Day was leaving. I felt peaceful. I felt content. My list of things to do for the day was done, and I was heading towards the house to rest. Headed towards my home, my familiar place, my territory. I had accomplished all I could during the day and I was satisfied. Maybe I should have tried to do more, I feel that way practically every day. But in the awesome light of that Sunset I felt happy, tired but happy. I knew I would be glad to get home, and see the ones that I love. My tasks that others would have me do were over. I would eventually lay down that night, and rest this body that God gave me, happy to have seen another day on this Earth.

Life and Death are like the sunrise and sunset. Both are beautiful in their own way, similar, yet vastly different. It’s what happens in between, what WE make happen in between that forms the legacy of our lives. It’s the appreciation of getting to see the sunrises and sunsets of other people’s lives that hopefully will make us appreciate our own and be less afraid of the final sunset that we all must come to one day. Not melancholy, but happy to have shined and to have enjoyed being in the light. I know I am.

We all fear the unknown, and not knowing what’s on the other side of that sunset IS a bit scary. Even to those who are secure in their beliefs and solid in their convictions. I experience that tinge, we all probably do when we think about it. I experienced it heavily yesterday. But I believe the soul goes on, and we are meant to all be together again. I am thankful for that.

If I have to crawl, or claw. If I must rend and tear, bite or be poked and prodded. If I have to ache and groan and moan, or sigh a heavy sigh. If I have to have a thousand needle sticks or If I have to suffer through a thousand days like today to witness one minute of joy from a beloved family member or friend, to hear of a good deed by humanity, then do not hesitate to think I will do all this and overcome it. My body’s weaknesses cannot conquer the strength of my spirit. I’m not going to allow it. Peace.

I think our lives and the way we live them are like reflecting pools. We see in others the good we want to see in ourselves…the good we have in ourselves, and we act accordingly with love.

Either that, or we look at others and see reflected back the hatred or dislike that we feel for ourselves, and act accordingly with something which is less than love.

All the qualities of love and hate are contained in each of us and what we see in the mirror, in our reflection, depends on what we are searching for.

While there are still libraries which are open to the public, and book stores where you can go to buy real physical books….while there are still vintage books at yard sales and flea markets, and while one can still buy said books online, I recommend that people get them. Especially young people.

I know a lot of people will say that we no longer need those “clunky” books because we can download them online and read them on our kindles and iPads. To that I would say…yes we can….for now. But, I foresee a time in the not too distant future when we will not be able to get what we want, but instead only get what those who control the information want us to have. It honestly wouldn’t be that hard to accomplish.

I beg people, especially young people, to start a collection of books. Buy classics, buy instruction manuals, buy medical guides, prescription guides, save all the old Mother Earth news magazines, buy poetry books, political books, for God’s sakes buy accurate history books too.

One day, if every copy of “David Copperfield” or Platos “Republic” or “The March of Folly” or “The Bible” are gone….one day if or when there are no physical copies to be found, anything can be put online representing any of those books, or the many millions more…and you will have to take their word for it. Or it could just be nothing except for meaningless propaganda.

I know….you think I’m crazy. Raving lunatic.

All I know is that all of human existence from the time humans discovered how to write, has been based on the ability to accurately transmit certain aspects of knowledge from one generation to another…via books. (Scrolls, tablets, etc., you get the point)

There were the dark ages….when not so many books were being written, and civilization was miserable…..but out of that period came the renaissance.

I hate to see humanity degrade into a permanent age of darkness, fueled online by only these tiny pixels we now take for granted as being the written word. They aren’t written, they are pecked. There’s a lot of difference.

Go to library book sales, and start your own private library. Please.

I think I felt God poke me this afternoon around four o’clock. I say that because Daddy always told me I was born right after the four o’clock work whistle on this day 63 years ago. Daddy’s gone now, but I still hear his voice, and that laugh of his. “The whistle blew, and it must have scared you right out” I don’t know why the 20 til four whistle didn’t do it..must have been cause they didn’t blow it as long. I remember keeping time by that loud old work whistle til I was eleven years old and got my first watch. Anybody else remember that thing? I think it went off at 7:40 a.m., 7:55 and then at 8:00 and then in the afternoons at 3:40 p.m., 3:55, and 4:00. The third shifter’s didn’t get it I don’t think. I remember walking to school from 8th street and being right across the street from that thing at 20 til 8. Scared the crap outta me. I don’t know when they stopped blowing it..or what ever happened to it. Some of the historians might know. I saw an old Merry go round on the corner of Simmons st and Sunset lane that looks like the one that used to be at the Grammar school. It was all rusty and dirty, but now they painted it up all pretty. I wonder if that’s it? I remember old Mike Eddards breaking his leg on that thing in the 4th grade. Anybody else recall that? It would be neat if that’s the same one (eddards probably still don’t like it)

In any case, when God poked me I think I heard him say: “3/4 done” Least that’s what I hope I heard! Thanks to all y’all for the birthday wishes.