Cosette and life might be worth some white space

White Space

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Running out of blog ideas, maybe. "White space". I found this idea on one of my favorite blogs. My daughter's. Clicking on the space gives you information about scrapbook ideas on her blog.

This picture has some interesting white space. The white space creates the picture and then as I mentioned quite a few blog pages back that enable you to see me looking off into the white space. Thinking obviously.

So the question is thinking about what. Last time I posted this I was thinking about a gully and a scene from a book.

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A person sitting by me on the plane spent a lot of time telling me about her passion, which by the way, was concerts. She did ask me what mine was. I gave it some thought. I suppose I could have said I have a passion for blogging on Halloween night but then that would be wrong. On the other hand it beats answering the door. Even so I have enjoyed a lot of trips to far off places myself. I really like just going to the flea market and walking around with Kathy and looking at stuff. Suppose that is an odd passion. I do like reading. Surprise. I took the easy way to answer the question of the airplane companion. I like books I said. What kind of books was asked. Literature is often my answer for this. When pressed a little more I often mention French literature. Paris was neat. Enjoyed our trip there a few years ago. Lots of books cover a variety of things and are French.

Victoria Best wrote a book called "An introduction to

twentieth Century French

She suggested that French Literature was a great way to tackle the question of "what it is to be human". Also that it seeks to consider social situations as they affect the individual and indicating that history is better understood when we see its consequesnces on the individual.

The white spaces will have to do it.

Listen to the actions watch the words

Time to Vote, Time to be for something

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It is easy to see what these two people are for. One is for going out and knocking on doors, and the other one is for opening the door if someone knocks.

This is not rocket science. It is easy to see what people are for . All you have to do is check and see what it is that they are doing.

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Lot's of questions

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I guess the questions that are asked tell you what the people really think as much as the answers. Who they will vote for. What they believe. Who are they.

Just a short story

Over the last two weeks I met two interesting individuals. In both cases "the airport" had a lot to do with these meetings. I met one on a plane. She was 46. She was leaving El Paso and going to Austin to see the Rolling Stones. In the last 14 months she had gone to see them 60 times. She couldn't recall how many times over the last 30 years. She always had front row seats. She had no family. No kids or husband. Didn't expect to have them. She had little debt and was on the road either working or going to these concerts most of the time. She said it was her life passion. She said her life had been defined by the trips and all that came with it. Friends had been found. New lands visited. Oddly, maybe we talked a little of religon but she was just curious and wanted to find a label. She saw the things that mattered most as a part of the tours and concerts. She called it her passion but it was really her life. No extended family, no parents involved with her life. No neighbors.

The other individual I met was taking me to the airport. He was 23. He was broke. He had learned a trade at a trade school. He asked one question after another. He wanted to know what I believed. He wanted to know if I saw things the way he did. He had grown up in a religion that he seemed to love. He had become inactive because of things he had done. He told me what he had done and what he had overcome so far. Some of his brothers and sisters wouldn't talk to him any more becuase of it. He hoped to see the day that he would rejoin in activity in his church. He was anxious and anticipated finding out about eternity. He saw the world as bad and felt his church was his anchor. His church was different than mine but he seemed hungrey to understand the differences. He seemed to show by his questions and his actions that one of his passions was the religon he had grown up with.

Both of these people, unlike the guy at the door in the picture, were pro something for sure. You couldn't talk to either without seeing their passion. The passion of the lady was built on money and she had enough to take good care of herself. The passion of the young man was gaining some eternal understanding and he really didn't have enough money to make it to the next pay day. The woman was educated. The young man was trying to learn. The woman said she was happy. The young man didn't know how to find the peace that he wanted. The woman was planning her trip to India. The young man wasn't sure exactly where Siberia was and said he probably wouldn't ever leave his state and didn't really want to. I liked both individuals. The young man was unique. He was different. It is hard not to care a lot for the young man.

There indeed is different kinds of passion

Listen to the actions watch the words

Time to Vote, Time to be for something

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It is easy to see what these two people are for. One is for going out and knocking on doors, and the other one is for opening the door if someone knocks.

This is not rocket science. It is easy to see what people are for . All you have to do is check and see what it is that they are doing.

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Lot's of questions

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I guess the questions that are asked tell you what the people really think as much as the answers. Who they will vote for. What they believe. Who are they.

Just a short story

Over the last two weeks I met two interesting individuals. In both cases "the airport" had a lot to do with these meetings. I met one on a plane. She was 46. She was leaving El Paso and going to Austin to see the Rolling Stones. In the last 14 months she had gone to see them 60 times. She couldn't recall how many times over the last 30 years. She always had front row seats. She had no family. No kids or husband. Didn't expect to have them. She had little debt and was on the road either working or going to these concerts most of the time. She said it was her life passion. She said her life had been defined by the trips and all that came with it. Friends had been found. New lands visited. Oddly, maybe we talked a little of religon but she was just curious and wanted to find a label. She saw the things that mattered most as a part of the tours and concerts. She called it her passion but it was really her life. No extended family, no parents involved with her life. No neighbors.

The other individual I met was taking me to the airport. He was 23. He was broke. He had learned a trade at a trade school. He asked one question after another. He wanted to know what I believed. He wanted to know if I saw things the way he did. He had grown up in a religion that he seemed to love. He had become inactive because of things he had done. He told me what he had done and what he had overcome so far. Some of his brothers and sisters wouldn't talk to him any more becuase of it. He hoped to see the day that he would rejoin in activity in his church. He was anxious and anticipated finding out about eternity. He saw the world as bad and felt his church was his anchor. His church was different than mine but he seemed hungrey to understand the differences. He seemed to show by his questions and his actions that one of his passions was the religon he had grown up with.

Both of these people, unlike the guy at the door in the picture, were pro something for sure. You couldn't talk to either without seeing their passion. The passion of the lady was built on money and she had enough to take good care of herself. The passion of the young man was gaining some eternal understanding and he really didn't have enough money to make it to the next pay day. The woman was educated. The young man was trying to learn. The woman said she was happy. The young man didn't know how to find the peace that he wanted. The woman was planning her trip to India. The young man wasn't sure exactly where Siberia was and said he probably wouldn't ever leave his state and didn't really want to. I liked both individuals. The young man was unique. He was different. It is hard not to care a lot for the young man.

There indeed is different kinds of passion

all things, hoped for, sought after, ring true

A Ring, of introspective thought

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The blog, and the ring, both introspective. Both have an outside world and within is the person. Trying to leave the world outside and still comment on the experiences is not an easy task.

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Thoughts about Rings

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I wrote a ring ceremony for a wedding a few weeks ago. It was a wedding I was unable to attend and where I felt a strong connection. It seemed that the ring just showed how any sacred or special relationship ought to be treated. Some things are outside and others are inside. The world is on the outside. The human side is inside. To protect something of worth a line and boundry needs to exist. A promise to put each other first. A promise to put right things first.

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People as well as events can strenthen us or weaken us

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The difference is the challenge. Events, often more than people, sometimes just stand out as being "outside the circle" of what we need. What to avoid and what to embrace makes all the difference.

(good poem could fit here)

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The 13th article of faith for my own church offers a good line or divider and can define what fits on the inside of the ring and what doesn't..............."We believe in being honest, true, chaste, benevolent, virtuous, and in doing good to all men; indeed, we may say that we follow the admonition of Paul—We believe all things, we hope all things, we have endured many things, and hope to be able to endure all things. If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, we seek after these things. "

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Some who have read this blog, off and on perhaps, may have missed perhaps parts of the whole story of Mike's burns. His shirt caught fire on the stove. His back burned badly. I have spent a little over two weeks with him this month. I am to a point where I can go home and he will be fine. It was a good two weeks in that I was with him. He is within my ring of concern and will always be so. I have enjoyed being with him and hope all things for him.

Prayer, close to the sun in lonely lands

Prayer

I believe it helps. It is interesting to see how "differently" and then too perhaps, "the same" people are about prayer.

"Hello, how are you, we will remember you or him in our prayers" is sometimes just t a greeting and nothing more. Then too many people seem to mean it when they say it and it is indeed more.

I talked today, via email, to a person I have not talked personally to for 5 years or so. The recent exchange of emails extended back a couple of weeks. Talking and working on the subject of those emails is now put off until next week, since I am not at work this week. This past contact asked about Mike and then came back and asked more and then let me know that he was a memeber of a prayer group at his church and that he would be including Mike in those prayers and wanted to have his name correct. For this individual saying that he would remember someone in his prayers was not just a greeting or a closing. It does impress me how much faith many people have and are wiilling to share. It is appreciated.

The Eagle
by Alfred Lord Tennyson

He clasps the crag with crooked hands; Close to the sun in lonely lands, Ringed with the azure world, he stands. The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls;He watches from his mountain walls, And like a thunderbolt he fall

Flying High, Watching, Near the Sun

Thinking of others, and being willing to ask on behalf of others, for help to come, sets one apart from the world. The world may seem lonely and hands may be alone as they search for something to clasp or do. Prayer sets one apart and brings one and all closer.

Dallas C. liked my poem and it opened a door for me.

As a side story about this poem I can't help but remember Dallas C. He was in his 80's at the time. He seemed so out of touch and his thoughts seemed to be so unconnected as he would speak up in our Sunday classes together a few years back. He had been a pilot and often spoke of his thrill at flying while trying to make some point. One day I asked him if he did email. He did and he gave me his. I sent him this poem. He wrote back and gave me a poem to think about that he had wrote. It was very well done. He often spoke of the Eagle and sent me pictures of Eagles. We communicated by email for years. Our friendship began when I thought of this Eagle as he told of his love of flying.

The eagle I see and think about in this poem flys high. Alone. Near the sun. Away from distraction. Away from the problems of daily life. The world frames and even reflects his every move. The sea itself seems wrinkled and calm below. When he finds a reason to move it is as if thunder and lightning annouce his arrival.

Our Pets, the cat anyway, are friendly and we have a sign to prove it

Today's run started at the apartment house where Mike lives. He is doing better. I left him in his chair leaning back and overall in a lot better shape. No need today to go and get his bandage changed. Yesterday they put a silver bandage under the big one, and it can stay unchanged

for a couple of days. Maybe even 3 to 7 days soon. My run was to the water tower on the "hill". By the way no mountains in Texas, that I personally have seen. The hills all seem to have water towers on them. The little water tower that I am running to pokes up in the left side of the middle on this picture.

The TV ad for the Governor candidate, running against the incumbant, just said that their were 268,000 square miles of mountains and other stuff here. Hills, I think she meant.



This hill reminds me of the upper end of Olympus Cove and a weekly route I used to run. Notice the water tower is now in sight. Kind of like being out running isn't it. This is such a great trip I am taking you on. No sweat. Course that is the downside of it for you, no sweat.

Running North to the tower. Then we will turn right to the west.




If you look close in the middle of this picture, way off in the green, you might find another water tower. We could run out there, turn left, and go 45 + miles to the South, and we would be in San Marcos and would go right through Austin on the way.





This picture is back almost to the apartment. The grade schools next door. The sign shows clearly, perhaps, the good news. At this grade school everyone gets A+'s. It is right there on the sign

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Pascal said:

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the "Heart has it's reason which reason knows not of"

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Today, is a day where I "know not what reason knows". I know that having watched to much TV myself these last few days that there seems to be little "reason" on it. I have watched the Colbert report and the Daily show. I think I have only seen these shows twice ever by the way. The last time I was here week before last and then this week. I have seen both rerun by the way. I did look in on Leno and Letterman and CNN of course. I found little "reason". Limbaugh, by the way, was the best thing to happen to the news the last couple of days. I wish I could come up with some really good thoughts on my own today, but then it is a day I am enjoying without anything much running through my mind except being here, and in many ways that is maybe what this quote means. Perhaps.

Needing a hand

My Fathers Hand

I remember so well my Fathers hand. It was so big. When you looked at it you knew it had worked hard. It seemed so big but then I was small. As my hands grew they changed. They began more and more to look like his. Now that he is gone I often think of him as I look at my own hands. I wish I would have held his hand and I wish that I would have reached for it, more often ,when we met. I remember as he became older he reached out and hugged me. The first few times he did that it seemed so odd. As he got older he got softer. As he got older he told me on occasion that he loved me. I miss his hands and his concern.

Mike and I joined in our anticipation and enjoyment of a sandwich today............

Reuben Sandwich at Jason's Deli

in Roundrock today

Simple enough story. Nothing profound. Course that is "in the point" of view I guess.

This picture does'nt do this sandwich justice. It was taller. I took this picture off the internet. It sort of shows the saurkraut but the taste just doesn't come through.

Blog enter, today, Roundrock Texas October USA.......... Jason's gave us a hand with lunch. North Austin Medical Center gave us a hand with a wound. As the day unfolded Mike needed a hand. As it came to a close I thought of my Fathers hand. As I found this picture of a hand I could see his.

I ran to this tower from Mikes apartment.



Probably ran a 4 mile round trip. From behind this tower you can see a few rolling hills and notice that there are a lot of other towers around. Seems a shame to have such a big state without any mountains.

If, dreaming, unforgiving, a heap of winning, turn right

North Austin Medical Center

To the left is the North wing and Mike spent the last week there. To the right is the south wing and there you will find the wound center. Today we began what will be another couple of weeks in this building but just once a day, to the right.


Wound Centers are specialists in the middle of a building that functions as a generalist for society. Either side it seems like the nurses are in charge. They seem to think they have more up to date and pratical knowledge of what is needed, and it seems obvious that they do.

With 60 seconds worth of distance run;

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it....

I thought today about getting a moment to run. I stopped and bought some running shoes. Forgot mine. The shows were New Balance. They were not quite as good as these 991's. I have run with basically the same shoe for 20+ years. That somehow is a good thing. My friend Jan and I ran most of that time. He had a different shoe every few months. I figure a shoe is worth about 300 miles. They start to lose the cushion after that. Running helps. It just fits in sometimes. I hope to fit it in a time or three this week. It is a big part of IF...............................

“IF”

By Mr. Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, And make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, Or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet, don’t look too good, nor talk too wise,

If you can dream –and not make dreams your master; If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Of watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build them up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on, when there is nothing in you, Except the will which says to them; “Hold on!!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue Or walk with kings—nor lose the common touch, If neither foes, nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With 60 seconds worth of distance run;

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it, And which is more you’ll be a man, my son!!!

Electric light tell us where this intersection is

My words fly up, my thoughts remain below, words without thoughts never to heaven go.

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Pain, on the one, hand may "push ones thoughts". Shakespeare's words, spoken by the king of Dennmark, seemed so obvious in the setting of the play. One had to wonder why the King bothered to pray having just killed someone. Hardly sincere. Unlikely repentant. His passion was in his act, not in his thoughts about Heaven. On the other hand or perhaps just moving on to a different subject, maybe, is the idea of pain. It mus serve some purpose. It certainly could shape the toughts and direct the words. Suggesting that pain serves a purpose is not something to bring up to someone who is in pain. Maybe it does not serve a purpose other than to identify where one is.

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In this picture "Pain" is at an intersection

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Grey is the color of the buildings nearer to the intersection of pain. Color is lost as one moves toward pain. Either that or this picture is backward and color becomes more intense on this corner. Even so in this pictue pain is reflected by or as a light. Maybe light is reaching heavenward. Maybe that was what the King lacked in his missing thoughts was some honest pain and any light. When like is driven out one probably endures a very different type of pain.

Two shadows reflecting passion, maybe thought

14 Months and 120++ shows on their

current tour.

Niether one of those guys on the left are me.

Guess you knew that? They are not much older however. Today of course is a day when a person who reads this blog, on occassion, sent me a note and called me a philosopher, but then added that he thought I was a romantic. Gulity I plead. Of course my recent blog explained the difference between a philosopher and a "Professor of Philosophy". Glad to be called a philosopher. I do like literature. Today I found myself talking with a person on a plane about what in life might be

considered a passion and I suggested, for me, a lot of "reading" may qualify.

60 of the 120++ performances attended. El Paso and Austin and more

My plane trip to Austin stopped in El Paso. A couple of dozen folks got on the plane talking about the Stones concert and they were on the way to another concert in Austin, which I think is tommorrow night. This lady sat down by me. She was 46 and for 25 years had followed the Stones around the world. Just in the current concert tour she had been to 60 shows. Europe, Asia, and was going to three concerts in India soon. She was single and this was her "lifes passion". Apparently there are a lot of folks like her and I guess the band appreciates it since she gets front row seats. Her passion, in her own words, replaced any marriage or kids in her life but had brought her friends and experiences. She also had a good job as a property appraiser.

"Passion she called it.

Action follows feelings, I mentioned yesterday. I guess if we have a passion for something we indeed can "get satisfaction", since we will be acting on something.

Words without thoughts don't reflect a shadow

"The springs of human action are

inherently in the feelings,

not the intellect"

A Readers Digest article a number of years back said that before children could understand faith cognitively that they have to understand it with their feelings. "Why" one might ask do action and learning spring from
feelings? A child needs to be loved first before it can learn to love back. Feelings open up the intellect perhaps. One has to want to know before one can know.

"The substance of ambition is the shadow of a dream"

Maybe Shakespeare who said this of ambition in Hamlet knew something of cause and effect. He apparently knew that hope precedes faith. That the shadow of the dream reflected something more that the objects. The objects reflected their own history. Of course in this picture I suppose he was sort of nuts with his memories..................

If we hope to, and want to, and dream that we can, we will be able to have the faith that we will. Faith may indeed be the substance of things not seen.

Then what about these pictures. Actually you might find me reflected in the first. The first came after another like it, not shown, that had just two images. Then came this reflective picture of 4.

Maybe the King of Dennmark in Hamlet knew something when he said:

My words fly up, my thoughts remain below, words without thoughts never to Heaven go.

What the Kings words were missing was some honest feelings.

Wisdom, personality, heart and philosophers

This guy is a "Philosopher"

The tip off is #3. The heart. To really find out why, takes another peak at Walden and leans on Thoreau. Before I mention how I wanted to mention a little different reflection, probably,which also comes from the heart. Personality. Of course I might add here that this picture is not me. I might have reached in and drew this guy however.

It's hard not to think about personality when you give Mike a call every few hours. He is a personality. He proves my point above that personality also reflects from the heart because he has a lot of heart too. Even so just being in the room with him makes you feel his personality.

The bald guy on the left is not me?

On the other hand he did put a question mark after the word and even a day later from my last blog I find just thinking about this blog, and so on, is worth maybe another question mark?

"There are nowdays professors of philosophy

but not philosophers"

This is according to Thoreau and can be found in his book Walden. He added something that reminded me of another book and the "guy's with the heart". He said:

To be a philosopher is not merely to have subtle thoughts, nor even to found a school, but so to love wisdom as to live according to its dictates, a life of simplicity, independence, magnanimity, and trust. It is to solve some of the problems of life, not only theoretically, but practically.

Magnanimity is a nice word but probably means "heart"

Dallin Oaks said that people act based on motive but that the highest motive is "charity". Unconcerned with self and heedless of personal advantage. Perhaps "anxiously engaged in a good cause". It may be a stretch but I think that professors of philosophy are such out of motive and philosophers do so out of the pure love of wisdom.

It would take a lot of Heart to love wisdom for wisdom's sake.

its the details that can be a problem

This sort of sums up the day

It would be hard to put my finger on why I putting this down, in black and white, on a blog. I figure some of the prior blogs I have done here are ones where I could tell you exactly why I wrote, what I wrote, and how it connected to those prior blogs. Those may have left a outside reader feeling the same way, wondering why it was there in black and white, so maybe it is my turn.

Thoreau's Walden is Easy

This guy lives alone in a hut in the woods for a year and a half. He just didn't want to live off the land but he wanted to escape civilization. Apparently seeking solitude. Guess that is the answer to immortality. Hide out. Write about your trip.

Some interesting thoughts

Our life is frittered away by detail.................

We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake, not by mechanical aids, but by an infinite expectation of the dawn, which does not forsake us in our soundest sleep.

Every man is tasked to make his life, even in its details, worthy of the contemplation of his most elevated and critical hour.

bare feet, sandy shore, joy on the near by trail

No Sea, No Seagulls, No Sandy Shore

Interesting what seems to appeal to people. Being a little in the mood to escape from the normal day to day is not uncommon for me when I get to this blog. I have found it a way to forget work and to forget some of the more pressing needs and goals that daily life just require. I also have enjoyed re thinking and recalling a lot of my own, more favorite things, I have read.

A week ago I posted a note saying "I was skipping a day". Since then I have not really had a lot to say. A week ago our older son burned his back very badly in a fire. His shirt caught fire on the stove. He is still in the hospital. I spent last week with him. Some who read this blog will already know that. Those that have remembered him in prayers we appreciate. I think he will be ok in another week. I will be joining him again soon.

It would be nice to go down by the sandy shore.

But for me I could get the same from the trail next door

No segulls to flutter round, but sun and sky and wind all about

No need to wait until the tide is out

I found in Caroline Kennedys book, Best Loved Poems of Jacqueline Kennedy, that some of the best poems in the book were not the famous authors but the few that Jacqueline wrote. This one below is a good one. A good one to take you away to another place. Maybe a private place. You may have noticed my feet on the right in the picture above.

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Sea Joy

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When I go down by the sandy shore

I can think of nothing I want more

Than to live by the booming blue sea

As the seagulls flutter round about me

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I can run about - when the tide is out

With the wind and the sand and the sea all about

And the segulls are swirling and diving for fish

Oh-to live by the sea is my only wish.

leaves hang trembling

Who has seen the wind?

by Christina Rossetti

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Who has seen the wind?

Neither I nor you:

But when the leaves hang trembling,

The wind is passing through.

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Who has seen the wind?

Neither you nor I:

But when the trees bow down their heads,

The wind is passing by.

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Caroline Kennedy put together a book, The "Best Loved Poems of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis". These poems were taken from the selected poems. She suggested that one of the greatest gifts she received from her mother was her love of literature and language. She adds, as she defends this claim, saying "sometimes knowing that someone else liked a certain poem can cause us to take another look at it, puzzle over why they might have liked it, and before we know it be captivated by it ourselves.

I found these of more interest today. The week has had its "wind" and "heads have been bowed".

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Thoughts

by Jacqueline Bouvier

I love the Autumn

And yet I cannot say

All the thoughts and things

That make one feel this way.

I love walking on the angry shore,

To watch the angry sea;

Where summer people were before,

But now there's only me.

I love wood fires at night

That have a ruddy glow.

I stare at the flames

And think of long ago.

I love the feeling down inside me

That says to run away

To come and be a gypsy

And laugh the gypsy way.

The tangy taste of apples

The snowy mist at morn,

The wanderlust inside you

When you hear the huntsman's horn.

life is like a cat, darn it.

This picture has nothing
to do with anything.

I figure if your going blog then a little color ought to be part of the message. I do like the way the blue folds into blue and I guess it reminds me of the Albuquerque Sky or the quilt hanging over the door of my office or all the flowers out on the walk I won't be home in time to take in the morning.

Today's highlight may have been Jason's Deli and a Rubin Sandwich.

Diversity in thought and experiences probably is a little like the colors above. Better value when it overlaps into the next thing that comes up. I have found this blog a means of diversity but then the thoughts are always there somewhere and seem to get better sifted as I have a chance to re read.


Mike's been recouping all week. He just came in and yelled victory. I guess life is full of one small step for Mike and one big step for mankind. His cat likes me you know. Then again after she layed and let me pet her for an hour she got up and bit my arm and left. No comment on this.

Best to you. Back to some non regular blogs soon

moving from darkness into light and why

Moving from Darkness into Light

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Reading this week on a trip left me mostly with one book. My time is short. I have had a convention and then some important family needs this week.

This time it has been tempting to use the blog to just give a summary of events. (Our son was burned on his back and I am caring for him in Austin as I write this. Some who read this will already know. Those that don't we will welcome your prayers. He is doing well.)

My book was more of a comfort on the trip to

Dallas than since. Even so just as I each day, for a while, I have used the blog to go into a different part of my own thoughts and have enjoyed that as a way to make the days broader it has it's use today also.

I could not begin to even consider the subject of "light'. It is what allows God into all things or maybe it is why he is in all things. The book "Literature of Belief" looks at all religions and suggests that all of Gods actions in the world are designed to move from darkness into light.

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Maybe our acts need to be motivated by light if they are to be of worth . If so this seems to follow:

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"So long as man acts solely on the basis of immediate consequences,

there is not much possibility of his producing deeds that will be

consequentail in the long run".

a skipped day

It is Monday Oct 9th.
I am not posting today.
If you looked to see and found this I appreciated your interests in looking. I have been able
to post pretty regularly and it has been a good way for me to rethink a lot of my favorite books and even memories. Sifting the thoughts. Even so I am passing on it today.
Best to you

Thinking may require some solitude

William James suggested in his writings about Religion that "the feelings, acts, and experiences of individual men in their solitude, so far as they apprehend themselves to stand in relation to whatever they may consider divine, " the very center of his definition of religion.

It is from this base that he suggests theologies and philosophies emerge.

It seemes to be that this again places a lot of importance on what we think about and what we chose to read and re read since in many ways that is where the real solitude exits?

Another busy day. Another short blog.

Apparently reading this blog is not a waste of time

Nothing is a waste of time if you

use the experience wisely .

What counts, in the long run is not what you read;

it is what you sift through your own mind;

it is the ideas and impressions that are

aroused in you by your reading

Elanor Roosevelt

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Since Rodin got me thinking

I was thinking about "Karl and John"
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One of the really good times over a lot of years was going to Jazz games with Mike. I can tell you that it took me a lot of time to like sports. Before Mike came along the only one in our house who liked sports was Kathy. She grew up in a house where folks watched the games. I didn't. I really learned to like basketball. I am not sure if we will ever see another team as great to follow as was the Jazz during the John and Karl years. What a great story they told.

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Nature imitates Art

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Oscar Wilde made this argument, which at first glance seems backwards. He said by way of example in explaining this that the London fogscape is never seen again in the same way after one has viewed impressionist paintings. Art becomes an education in form. Form created in Art makes the same form in Nature better understood according this this approach.

John and Karl were Art as well as form and they made sports real for me.

(by the way that's "me in the top picture. Reflecting on Karl and John and a blog without a book to use to sift my thoughts.)

Dog day's and the peoples republic of stuff

Technically this post is for the 5th and 6th of October. Our home email connection has been down for perhaps 24 hours. I got to go to work today but no time for blog's at work. Kathy was in withdrawal when I got home. Then by way of disclaimer I need to mention "Skipper". I had referred to him in my last blog noting that he was indeed in the picture. I got emails about Skipper on this comment. By the way my comment option below has been changed. If you make a comment it is emailed to me and I get to click yes or no on having it published below. The reason is that I had a person who was passing by and looking at blogs leave a comment with word I wouldn't want posted so I de listed my blog and gave myself this option. Kind of like a can of recalled tuna. A long disclaimer. So yes Skipper, my dog and the dog of the night, was in the prior blog as indeed I was. You will have to go to the blog today and figure it out if this doesnt' do it.

Skipper

Back quite a few blogs is the "old first ward" building in Pocatello. I was about 8 or 9. It was summer. Skipper showed up at our house out of the blue. I had to go to Primary at the church, a mid week experience then. Skipper began to follow me on my bike. My mom had said he couldn't stay and that he would be gone even if he did follow me to church. At church I tied him to my bike with my belt and later he followed me home?? He stayed for 20+ years. I left before he did. I figure, and said, he was in the house on yesterdays blog. On the other hand the guy on top looking "UP" into the sky was really me so what I meant was he was in the house. As far as me on the roof, of course it could have just been "metaphorically" me. Of course the whole blog is metaphorically me......................................


Since the "subject" has been a dog

This book is on my top 5 list. I made a list of maybe 300 books I had read in the last few years and then from that list I picked the top 50 best, and then top 30 or so, and then top 10 or so, and then top 5. I really wanted to know what would surface as the top for me, that day. So far I have profiled most of those books, and others of course, on this blog. The thoughts in them apply, for me, to things of interest to me and have tied into some memories.

It is odd that this book is a favorite because I don't think the reference to autism is one that applies to very many situations. Then again having been a little closer to autism the last 10 years I can tell you that I don't know what autism really is. It seems to be a lot of things, and the way it is presented in this book isn't similar to any life example that I have seen.

Even so the book took a look at the world through the eyes of someone that saw it "very differently" and it was a "can't put down" book. I didn't, until I was done.


Two books on the same subject

A history of the people and a peoples history

My son Mike gave me a copy of Howard Zinn's book. I already had one so now I have two and have really read it probably twice. I also got the copy of Paul Johnson's book from my friend Doug Snarr and he told me it was a book I needed to read. Both tell the same story. I have to laugh at the Zinn book. The slight title difference reminds me of the label "People's Republic of California". Berkley might be Bejing. Zinn was upset with the country being founded on the backs of slaves. Johnson saw the country as being wonderful and an inspired sequence of events. I liked both books. Then too I figure that right and wrong are not in one book or another but in all the choices made along the way. To pick one side and condem the other sometimes is just a fancy way to feel good about yourself.

*****

A people's history or a history of the American People. Which one is the metaphor. Well we already found me suggesting that "peoples" symbolizes the masses vs's the government. At least that is what the idea of socialistic societies was suppose to me. Then on the other hand it is indeed the elite that give us the American People or History written out for us. Pretty hard to write anything without tipping your hand as to what you think. "I guess"

A walk around the block tells all

Looking up

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Stars, idle thoughts, a trip around the block,

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Hard to say what my old dog Skipper is thinking on that roof, but then Skipper never did have had a lot of "taste". He was sort of a night traveler. A bit of a ladies dog. He would come home after a hard night of chasing dogs and cats and other creatures and he often needed a bath.

Skipper may not be a spokes dog for "good taste".

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"Trip around the block"

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Skipper's story may have been material for a good novel. After all Ulysses is just a story about a guy who walks around the block one day. His trip was hardly one full of "tasteful" adventures. They were interesting and a little odd. He in his trip had little time to look up. The whole day was the book. Skipper, Ulysses whatever.

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So what is Taste

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John Ruskin, a 19th century English critic said of taste:

"Taste is not only a part and index of morality, it is the only morality. The first, and last, and closest trial question to any living creature is"what do you like?"

*

Tell me what you like, and I'll tell you what you are"

The part you play is both the cause and effect

What e'rr thou art

Act well thy part

David O McKay loved books and is remembered for some specific thoughts. In his book "True to the Faith" he wrote:

"I will know what you are if you tell me what you think about when you do not have to think"

I was reading from my own journal dated 1995 where I was trying to explain myself, mostly to myself, since the journal is just "my journal". This statement caught my attention then. I wrote then that "I have enjoyed following a thought as it is developed by several different authors. I have noticed that sometimes questions just do not get answered. I am reminded of the Danish poet and phusicist Piet hein who once wrote:"

Knowing what thou knowest not, is in a sense ommiscience"

"Wanting to know everything can be a source of disatisfaction. Recognizing the wisdom in understanding what is not known, can be a release from frustration."

Looked up for a reason, apparently

I remember looking closely at this before.



It may have been on the top of a house boat on Lake Powell. Maybe it was looking up from a sleeping bag somewhere. Maybe it was one morning about 5AM coming down back out of Millcreek canyon. I guess I don't look up often enough. Seems like the black looked blacker and the light looked lighter from those places.

Why

I liked this book. It covered a lot of territory. It was a surprise in a way when this author asked the "why" question rather than just the "how" question. That usually does it for me and of course that is "why" I picked his book to reference on a day when just "why" is a good enough question.

When you ask why a lot you tend to forget that perhaps everything happens for a reason. Can it all be for a reason if you can't answer why?

Stephen Hawking has spent a lot of time writing about the Universe but then in this book he concludes the book and his thoughts with this:

"The real question that you need to ask when begin to understand the universe is not "how" it came to be but "why".

He says that to understand "why" would be to begin to know the mind of God.

Einstein sort of concluded one of his books (see prior blog) with a similiar thought. I might add that he comes from the point of view that everything happens for a reason. Einstein says all things happening from cause and effect and thus for a reason, and then he concludes that to see that reality is to know the mind of God.

Two approaches

Short blog tonight. Just a couple of thoughts and a book