The In-Between Time

Right now, today and tomorrow… the whole weekend, really – is a space of “in-between” time.  A “Time-Out” from the world, from the year, from everything.  It’s the universe taking a deep breath between 2011 to 2012… in a way – both and neither.

Robert Fulghum, one of my favorite writers of all time, posted about this on his blog, and it really struck a chord with me today.

There are times, when we all need a Time-Out. 

Time to not “be in charge”.  Time to step back, slouch a little, galumph along through your day in jammies and slippers, ratty hair and no makeup.

Time to indulge yourself in a little self-absorption and inner reflection.

Suspended in this neither-nor time, you can do whatever you want, or nothing at all. 

Sitting on this cusp between now and then, here and there, you can take this time to breathe, relax and not worry about what happens next.  With our planet swinging out there in the blackness of the galaxy, does it really matter if you don’t leave the house for a few hours, get the groceries today or tomorrow, brush your teeth or comb your hair?  The planets will continue to spin, the sun will continue to burn, and the black vastness of space will continue to be a sucking vacuum,  so you don’t need to run yours to prove you’re busy.  Let the universe do that for you today.

Relax.  Take a Time-Out.

After all, you made it through the year – you’ve earned it.

 

Snark Week~ April 2011

This week has been something else…

It all started off with…

Oh, who gives a rip how it started!

It’s SNARK WEEK!

I’ve been in rather an obnoxious mood lately, and posted to my Facebook wall that I was declaring it Snark Week…

Which is like Shark Week.. only with more teeth.

Seems like all my friends decided that it was a pretty good idea, and immediately jumped on the bandwagon! 

Snipes and potshots have been taken randomly at work.  Nothing permanently tragic, or maliciously damaging, just good, sarcastic burns and comments.  Venting vicariously, if you will.

And, of course, since today is Friday, I have to come up with something really good to finish off the Week of the Snark. 

My brain is swimming furiously, circling and playing the Da-dum Da-dum da da dadadadada music.  Snark in the water.

I have, in my arsenal of sarcasm, what one of my co-workers calls my “evil little laugh”.  My voice lowers, and it’s more of a chortle than a full-out laugh or snicker.  I’ve been chortling, chuckling and snickering all day.

It’s hard to describe just what has occurred throughout the week, because without the context, it’s hard to understand the content and consequences.  But, suffice to say, it’s been a week full of “evil little laughter”.  And not just my own.  I’ve been the butt of the jokes too, and laughed it off in good humor when the strike hit.

One of my favorite authors, Robert Fulghum, wrote a post yesterday about being 6 forever.  He reminds me that to act childlike isn’t necessarily to be childish.  You can have the fun, without the malice.  It’s all in your perspective and how you present yourself.  Sarcasm, 6-year old style, without the bitter bite that adulthood and years of disappointment and recrimination often bring to the table.

Please read this:  Robert Fulghum’s Blog 

Falling into the sar-chasm once in a while doesn’t have to hurt.  Sometimes?  It’s just funny.

And I didn’t even blame Tawanda once.  Hunh.

The Random AHA!

I’ve been trying to catch up on reading some of my favorite blogs.  I don’t get a lot of time in the evenings anymore, between writing the next day’s blog, spending quality time with the family, attempting to write on the novel, and doing random, everyday stuff like Facebook, bill-paying, email checking, and household chores.

Note that household chores come last.

Note too, that quality time with the family has fallen to second, after creating the next day’s posts.  Actually, I do spend time with the family every night, right around supper time, as that’s when we sit and chat, watch our tv shows that normally get taped (due to the OtherHalf’s schedule of necessary sleep), and talk about each other’s days, school, jobs, etc.  It’s just that Blogging is first and foremost on my mind, not necessarily what I actually do.

I digress.  I was talking about catching up on the blogs that I read, not the ones that I write.

One of my favorite blogs is the one written by Robert Fulghum.  He is the man that wrote “All I Really Needed To Know I Learned In Kindergarten” as well as many other books.  And I love his writing.  He is honest, and quirky, and funny, and thoughtful.

And he hit the nail right on my head tonight.  He was talking about having an uncluttered, focused mind, and went off on a tangent about random thoughts that float through your head at any given moment.  And then he said:

“But it’s not weird, you know – it’s wonderful – in the sense of full of wonder.
It’s amazing that without any deliberation we dream at night and our minds wander about during the day. Free-range minds is what we have.
It’s not amazing that what we think often makes no sense.
It’s amazing that it sometimes does.

We inhabit an amusement park ride – and all the walls are mirrors.
And I am convinced that what goes on in my head is no weirder than what goes on in most people’s.”

All the walls are mirrors.  Oof.

Mr. Fulghum?  *knocking on my own head* Are you in there?

After that dream the other night, I blogged about it in two separate places.  And it seemed that I’d gotten it out of my system, as the imagery stopped plaguing me at odd times.  And then it comes around again from one of the last places I ever thought it would.  One of the people that I most look up to, Mr. Robert Fulghum.  I think I want to be like him when I grow up.

Butterfly in a Jar

“I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge-
That myth is more potent than history.
I believe that dreams are more powerful than facts-
That hope always triumphs over experience-
That laughter is the only cure for grief.
And I believe that love is stronger than death.”

~Robert Fulghum

 

*One of my favorite things is butterflies.  I love, not just the colors, and the varieties of shapes, but the silent grace of these creatures.  Butterflies are a welcome sight, no matter where you go, people are happy to see them.

Moths, their cousins, are seen as pests.  They are reputed to *eat clothes* and people stock up on mothballs to put in their closets to keep them away.  They are not often seen as lovely, delicate, and silently graceful. 

I dare you to tell me these creatures are not just as beautiful.

Yes, they flutter more frenetically, at least the smaller ones do, and yes, they will flock toward a light-source, whether it be a lightbulb, or a candle’s flame. 

But they can be just as gorgeous, just as graceful, as their daytime counterparts.

They too, might sit delicately on your hand or arm, licking the salt from your skin, gently fanning their wings.

In my experience, moths are simply butterflies that prefer the darkness to the light.

They are not as showy as their cousins, preferring to keep their colors more muted, subdued.  They also tend to be smaller, except for this behemoth, the luna moth.  My personal favorite.  We used to see these occasionally where I grew up in Iowa.  Not often, just enough to keep me fascinated with them.

So, you’re asking now, why butterflies and moths, in the middle of winter?  What do these have anything to do with snow, with the holidays, with ice and cold?

Not a damn thing.

I’m tired of feeling like a creature, caught and kept in glass.

I found a Butterfly in a Jar in one of the local stores this weekend.  I instantly wanted it, but had to forego buying it.  No, it’s not a real butterfly.  It’s electronic, a beautiful, fake thing on a wire, that flutters around the jar when you tap on the lid.

I still want one, not so much because I have any desire to capture a real live butterfly, I prefer releasing them to capturing.

No, I want one – to remind myself that even though people may stare, may tap at the glass, and may even shake it up now and again – the butterfly you see inside the jar is not real.  You can’t hurt it, you can’t kill it.  The batteries, or whatever it is that fuels this electronic critter, will eventually run down, but it will not die.

The real ones are still free.  Still beautiful, still graceful in all their silence.

And sometimes, they’re not even butterflies.  Sometimes, they’re moths.

 Tonight is Yule.  It is also the night of the total lunar eclipse.  If it stops snowing, even for a moment, around midnight, I’ll get to see it.

And, like those moths, I will flutter toward it, yearning for the light, and the renewal that comes with it.

The Indomitable Spirit

I have a hero.  His name?  Robert Fulghum (pronounced Ful-jum, by his own reckoning).

This is the man that wrote All I Really Needed to Know I Learned in Kindergarten; It Was On Fire When I Lay Down On It; Maybe (Maybe Not); Uh-Oh; and others that I have not read… Yet.  I’ll be getting those.  Soon.

This man will never know how much I look up to him.

What an impact he’s had on my life.

How, when I read his words, they make me more aware of everything around me, and what blessings I really have in my life.  And sometimes I laugh, heartily and fully.  And sometimes I cry.  Because he hits corners of my life with his words.  The things he writes about are things that happen to many people, all over the world.  Most of the time, what he writes about is not earth-shattering, or newspaper-making. 

But it’s the way he writes.  The way he spills his words, shaping them like a master-sculpter, till they come out in a poignant, funny, thoughtful way. 

Sometimes, I’ll argue with him, in my head, because we don’t see something the same way, but that’s really like trying to beat someone’s door down with a daisy.  You don’t do much damage to the door, but you destroy the daisy.  You’d be better off just plopping the thing down on the mat, and hoping that, when next he opens the door, he looks down and sees it before he steps out for the day.

As for the “Indomitable Spirit”?  Well, that’s the spirit, not of him, or of me, for we are but fragile mortals, and shall pass from this world.

It is the Indestructible, Indomitable Spirit and Power of the Written Word.  For that shall last.  As long as there is someone that reads, the Words will live on. 

Thank you, Mr. Fulghum, for your inspiration.  You may never know your impact, but I do.

*Check him out – he’s on the blogroll and HERE.  Enjoy.