Entries in Random Thoughts (12)
Golden Oldies Department: It’s Raining Again
Not the Supertramp song. We’ve been getting a bunch of rain lately. Nothing like some parts of the country; no houses being ripped off their foundations and washing downriver.
But it has kept us from getting the main part of our garden planted, which is a bit strange. We usually have that done, and then the tomatoes and peppers are the last things we get done. This year, we got the tomatoes and peppers planted, but I haven't so much as turned over a spade-full of soil in the garden proper.
Roy M. Jacobsen
in Random Thoughts
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Dietary Preferences of Equus Asinus
"Donkeys prefer garbage to gold."
--Heraclitus
Discuss.
Journal Pages Department
For just over a week now, I've been making myself get up earlier to write three pages in my journal. (Blame Julia Cameron.) I'm beginning to rebel a bit (maybe balk is a better word) against these three pages. I'm not questioning the value of the journal writing, just the arbitrary notion if it having to be three pages.
On the other hand, why not three pages? Perhaps there's no other reason than forcing myself into the discipline of just sitting down and coming up with words enough to fill the assignment. Goodness knows it's not as if my inner dialog, my narrator/commentator doesn't constantly spew out enough to fill my journal in the course of a single day.
It makes me kind of wonder about this inner voice. I mean, it's me, or at least a part of me, I think. Why, then, do I sometimes get so fed up with it? Why is it negative when I want to be positive? Why won't it shut up and let me go to sleep when I'm exhausted?
There's the notion that this voice is sometimes not me, but a demonic voice--I'm not sure I'm willing to accept that, but I can't discard it either. I believe that the enemy is capable of influencing our thoughts, but is he able, and does he make it a practice, to mimic our internal dialog? That's not a question I think I can resolve here and now.
It's enough for me to wonder if the "Be still" part of the command "Be still and know that I am God" means that I should also somehow silence the mental chatter. Is that a trick that some people have figured out?
Of course, there had to be a time when I wasn't always chattering inside: before I knew words to chatter with. What was going on inside when I had to words to talk to myself in?
I suppose I could just as well ask what goes on inside my dog Sammy's head. You know that some level of thinking and reasoning is going on, but how do you express it without words? He must somehow think with pictures, smells, sounds and sensations.
And from here my mind leaps to this: Is it a part of what's wrong with our society, that people today are losing the ability to think clearly in words because we've managed to cast doubt on the idea that our words actually mean anything?
"In the beginning was the Word." There is a Word that has real meaning external to any thought that I have or that others have. It may be that our words are only echoes of that one real Word, but the are echoes, and therefore, by definition, the share some of that one real Word's characteristics.
Words mean things, even our sloppy, ghostly, insubstantial words. I believe that some day we'll have a chance to speak words in a language that is more real, solid, and substantial than we can imagine.
(And here I thought I wasn't going to get anywhere with these three pages today.)
The Sum Of All Irrational Fears Department
Spring has arrived in the upper Great Plains, and you know what that means: You can't go anywhere without encountering road construction. Dearest Wife and I were running some errands last night, and had to cross one of the I-29 overpasses, currently being let out to accomodate another lane. The whole idea of driving over (or under) a bridge while someone is using a mega-jackhammer mounted on an excavator to break the guard rail into large Chunks-o-Rubble(TM) was just a tad unnerving.
But then, I'm the guy who doesn't like driving under a railroad bridge if there's a stationary train on it. Doesn't bother me in the least if it's moving--the faster the better. But if it's sitting still, why, it might just tip over, like a bicycle.
Half A League, Half A League, Half A League Department
Had my semi-annual cleaning and annual dental exam this morning, and while I was in the chair, I heard Pachelbel's Canon three times. They need to work on their play list.
100 points to the first person who can explain how that relates to my subject line.
Want more on Pachelbel? Try this:
On a totally different subject, the sunset this evening was spectacular. This picture (taken with a camera phone) barely begins to do it justice.
License To Kill Department
I’ve always responded with a mixture of admiration and disgust for James Bond. I admired his courage and ingenuity, his determination to defeat the bad guys. I loved the Aston-Martin, and all of Q’s gadgets, at least one of which just happened to be exactly the ticket to get James out of a particularly nasty spot. I liked the smooth civility, the gentleman’s wardrobe, and especially the downright manliness of the character (especially as portrayed by Sean Connery, who epitomizes 007 in my eyes). The explosions, the chases, the fights, the wild derring-do; I loved and enjoyed it all. Still do, as a matter of fact.
With one exception: I hate Bond’s womanizing ways. Even as a kid, something about those bits of the Bond movies rubbed me the wrong way. I couldn’t understand why he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, see how Moneypenny adored him.
What irks me the most is the way it’s portrayed in such a light-hearted, positive way. Never any mention of STDs, the unsatisfying nature of jumping from one partner’s bed to another, the lack of genuine intimacy with another person, and so on.
(And now the irony of this strikes me: I’m complaining about a lack of realism in James Bond movies.)
Where Have I Been Lately Department
I can relate to this, except it's more like I've not been managing my time the best, leaving little time for substantive posts on a non-bill-paying blog.
(Cartoon by Dave Walker. Find more cartoons you can freely re-use on your blog at We Blog Cartoons.)
Morning Meanderings Department
Was listening to an interview with someone in the self-improvement world, and he was discussing the mistake people make when it comes to measuring progress. He said that many people have an ideal of some sort in mind when they embark on a self-improvement program, and after they've been at it for a while, the look at themselves in comparison to their goal and don't see any progress.
He likened it to setting your sights on the horizon, and everyone knows that no matter how far you travel, the horizon doesn't get any closer. What you need to do is compare where you are now with where you used to be.
Seems reasonable to me, with one caveat: You still need to have that target out there on the horizon (or a compass) to give you direction. Something external to yourself, something to shoot for, a direction to go. Otherwise, you can be moving from point to point but never getting anywhere.
Measure progress against where you were when you started the journey, but keep your eyes on that goal on the horizon.
No Excuses Department
I've been remiss in posting. My lovely and talented wife had a temporary job sorting seed corn for some test plots, which left me holding up some of the homefront tasks she usually does, a contract project I'm workong on kicked into high gear, and a nasty upper respiratory bug knocked my wife and I flat on our cans.
Easter was good. We drove out to the center of the state (that's where the missus grew up) for a restful weekend. The eldest two children sang "Untitled Hymn" (by Chris Rice) at church Sunday morning, to universal acclaim.
And this afternoon, I took the laptop out to the back patio to edit some of the aforementioned project documentation. I love working at home and wireless networking!
So, how are you doing? Yes, I really want to know.