The Stories We Tell

 I was reading a nice little romance story yesterday and then the hero died. 
That is not what I wanted while seeking inside entertainment on a winter's day. Are our tales written for expressing the realistic lives we have or are they for escape, for the hopeful and energetic adventures of our dreams? It is a mix, I imagine, and we can choose to look and discover. Rewrite!

Wishing that Life's literature would model more than conflict/triumph extremes has not changed the parimeters we accept as human reality much. The stars are moving in their own resonance and dissonance it seems. The sun is sending out bursts of fire warming us and also disrupting our networks at times. The Earth has its very real tension and eruptions. Beauty and light, yes, of course, are always available as well.

Are we essentially safe inside our little bodies, our small shelters, our local communities if we can write a safe hero's tale for ourselves and let it come forth? I wanted the hero to get a long romantic life. I wanted the child left and the abandoned lover to fill his living. 

I am figuring out some new understanding of how we create and experience what we do and who the heck is really in charge. 

We see through the focus of being human and whatever else there is in us that is of the great Unknown. Are rabbits feeling ok today? Can 'pets' appreciate our obsession with our 'owning' them? Does rust really have to eat my car? Can we walk alongside each other in fellowship and ease the abandonment, disillusion, doubt, fear, power trips we are addicted to? Lots of people have lived exhilarating realities! 

Go middle road neutrality, then onward toward really very fine! 

Let's try to change the story.

                                                          

Clear Sailing?

   After the shock and recovery of the pandemic, life is still very complicated. Taking a break from cheerful optimism seems sensible and intuitive at times.

   But we must carry on and there is much to care for here on this spinning Earth. My life has moved and moved in location and still I am in Nova Scotia with the friends and environment I have chosen to live with for all these years. Travel is sparce and family is far-flung.

   Finding the good things to do and enjoy in new places is always a thrill. This little town is settled on the shore, changes are slow and physical, people are related or have come to be here, the Canadian reality has been enhanced by the chaos and confusion, anger and hurt elsewhere in this hurricane of life. And yet, we continue to make our own lives as we go.

   There are creatiive endeavors on every corner, in each home, with the schools, the churches, the hiking groups, the fishers (new term), the seniors walking along the sidewalks. The largest irritation is the never-ending road maintenance and the weather. Are we wiser than we were 50 years ago? Are our grandchildern easier in life? Have we fixed all those faults in reality we percieved and intuitively aimed to sew up and iron out?

   What is this all about, anyway? It seems that we are here to work together. The old self -actualization solitude is easing into a univerasal realization that WE are doing this, we are creating, not responding, we can decide to make it better. Can we? Do we? How connected are we to the negative hurtful ones? How do we ease the hurt? Can our bodies become free of dis-ease, will our heartful hopes become an enjoyable reality?

  Time will tell, perhaps, but all we have is Now. Let it be worth the trip.