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HONORING MY MOTHER | Full circle but not there yet

 

 

 

ONCE in a while when reading a book, I hurriedly jot down whatever passage strikes me as profound or funny, or even particularly anything that might catch my fancy at the moment.

The process seems much easier on the android (can’t afford then I-somethings) because one can either screenshot or cut and paste the whole thing and read them another day.

During pensive and sad moments, while others find their healing by getting stupid-busy, like cleaning the house or throwing out hoarded junk, there are those who would prefer to go outdoors and just commune with nature for the peaceful trip that it brings.

Many do sports while others swim, in alcohol. For these old bones at the moment, I had just chosen the most boring poison, which is poring through anything that requires minimum movement, just a few clicks left to being lethargic.

Yup, since I’ve started writing, filling the tank has been necessary, but during downer moments, reading for me proves to be the perfect diversion for shutting off the world or shutting down.

Not that it is entirely effective though. Honestly, listening to music is much better on so many levels. As one goes deeper into what one is reading, we find ourselves playing tug-of-war with the text before us, questioning it as though in a mental debate.

It’s much better when at the start, the whole exercise of reading to get away seems like casually reading road signs that swiftly float by during a highway trip.

On several occasions, one gets that proverbial bump-in-the-road where you are just rudely wakened up, either from your reverie or from your shutting off of the world and just blurt out, wetaminute! Now, I have completely forgotten it source but read on just the same.

“We all have that varying degrees of loss and sadness, our own share of pain in our lives…It’s a necessity because how else can we appreciate the better times/ I guess that is the silver lining that we look for in these hard times.” -unknown

Forgive me but I certainly do not subscribe to the belief that loss and sadness per se is a necessity, especially when one looks at the better times that come after. That reward-and-punishment kind of arc is only suited for the cinema.

I’s rather prefer to accept dark times as a source where we get precious lessons from, rather than looking up to the heavens and believing that good time are yet to follow. What I have read continues… “The hope that things will be better and when they do come, one would walk on believing that the blues were worth every second.”

Perhaps, but if that’s the case, I guess it’s time to go swimming.

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