Saturday, July 29, 2023

A Sermon set Sideways…

Flower of an Unknown Land
--originally published 4/4/2015--
 
I’ve heard it said that if you’re really interested, willing to wait and watch and keep your mind open that reality will eventually present an answer to most riddles.  The thought of the day has endured for almost a decade now, a delightful tidbit of curiosity that simply refused to fade with the years.  It would seem the old riddle has been renewed with a purpose beyond simple curiosity, and it would equally seem reality has indeed brought me a piece of the answer to that riddle in the last couple of weeks.  Let me build a bit of a framework so this will make some sense.

Most everyone who knows me knows I carry a love for Ms. Alex, the beautiful woman who hosted the muse for me.  She was, and even yet still is, a powerful influence on my life. For all the years since her gift it has been a curiosity to me: how is it that she came to be as she was when I met her? 

With the subject of the year set as happiness I find myself ever more often returning to the example Ms. Alex set for me.  I saw her work magic in the lives of strangers (I’ll go ahead and call it magic, for a convenient handle) that has come to be a reference standard on the subject.  I’ve understood a bit of how her magic took effect on those she took into her focus, but there are other facets of the phenomenon still in search of an explanation.  An understanding of such a thing would be a most useful understanding reaching far beyond the context of simply man and muse.  You see, hers’ was a magic powered by a happiness most unique to her, I’d never seen anything similar before, and it appeared to be in a full and mature form...  the question, the riddle, being of course what components of reality went into creating a contagious form of happiness? 

Monday, July 24, 2023

It isn't one word?... or...

...is there a Research Psychologist in the house?

Ok, it's an old bigotry that got surfaced and, to a degree. broken.  I think I was maybe seven or eight before I figured out that "touchyfeelydamnedidiots" is not one word.  The way my father pronounced the phrase in relation to posturings and intrusions on your personal space the sensualist folks call appropriate made it an easy error for a child.  Nope, not one word.  A phrase. Ok. (*lol* and Pandora in it's infinite sarcasm serves up Robert Plant's "Ship of Fools". Nope. Random play is not random, it's fate's jester). 

But truth told it has been more of a power player for the last couple of years than it should have been in relation to the boy Beam (third roommate and youngest buddy) who I've been mentoring for five years or so. What popped the ancient bias was a thought that crosses a lot of territory, from current events to current technology to deep psychology. Let me report a bit of current events to put a frame around this thought.

In essence for the last three months I've been committed 24/7 to crewing a loonie bin in my living room for one patient with one other hand on staff (his mom).  It's been a rough period, I'm pulling from the combat reserves as often as not.