Archive for the ‘Thought of the Day’ Category

The Pink Chair

A young boy named Jay sat in his grandmother’s closet. He happily sifting through books she had acquired through the years. Many of them she had read to him at one time or another. One, he did not recognize. In large letters scrolled across the front of the brown-bag covered book were the words Lord of Eternity.

He opened the book and leafed over to the title page.  “Huh!” he exclaimed, “what a coincidence.” The author’s name was simply, Unknown.

Hello, came a soft woman’s voice.

Stunned, Jay turned his head to view himself in the closet mirror imagining he was most certainly hearing things. “Wait… What the hell?” he retorted and closed the cover with haste. It wasn’t a voice he recognized.

He looked around but only washed out colorful polka-dot and stripped dresses hung from bent wire coat hangers. He was alone. The mirror leaning against the wall that was no bigger in diameter than a large box of cereal confirmed this. He wondered how in the world his grandmother, a rather large lady, had the ability to view herself in such a small mirror.

Jay continued to view himself. Brown hair, hazel eyes, boyish charm – same as always. He gazed back at the book sitting in his lap warily before opening it again.

“I’m confused. Books do not talk,” he said to the book. “But, since you want to talk. Lets talk.”

Don’t worry- I’m you- well I’m kinda everyone and everything around you right now. I can make just about anything happen.

Jay looked at the book quizzically his mouth perked back, and eyes squinted. He then looked into the mirror mouth still perked back and eyes still squinted. “So what about outside of this closet?”

Your existence is by chance – so, nothing.

“Why am I not scared? This isn’t at all normal,” the boy countered.

Since I don’t want you to freak out, lets just chill here for a few – I’ll teach you a little bit about life. Here, look behind some of the clothes hanging up there. Careful that you don’t trip on the shoes buddy.

Jay sat the book down, but left the pages open, and stood up to search through the clothes. Putting the backs of his hands together, as though about to do the breaststroke, his arm muscles came together and flexed causing the colorful clothes to slide away from one another, each side smashed together. A pink cushy leather chair sat behind the rack of clothes.

Jay grabbed the book from the floor and dove for the chair. He then opened the book.

Comfy?

“Very, thanks,” Jay responded.

So listen, I don’t think we have too long. What is it that you want to know?

Jay thought in the silence of the closet for a bit before speaking, “What is it like where you are, and by the way what’s your name?”

It’s alright here. I’m Lord nice to finally make your acquaintance. I don’t believe my existence to be by chance, so almost everything has meaning of some sort to someone. Think about all those clothes you just smashed apart.

“What about them?” Jay countered.

You didn’t take the time to put them back. That shows that you are less considerate of other people’s objects. For instance you don’t have to deal with the trial of having your clothes wrinkled from someone smashing them aside. Living here is kind of like walking on invisible glass. My only chore – just being.

“But at least you have meaning in your life… I mean, I don’t,” Jay said complacently.

I guess I see what you mean. You really don’t have anything to worry about. You’re still a kid. You taught me something Jay. After all, is a story still a story without a plot?

The closet walls fell away and Jay was left sitting in a field surrounded by a multitude of beautiful flowers. Their petals white, gold, red, purple and yellow. Small and delicate. A gentle breeze had them dancing in the soothing light of the glistening sun.

“Are you sure?” Jay asked.

Yeah – you’re free!

Jay arose from the chair and smiled down at the book before walking off into a world of unlimited possibilities.

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The Same Love

Posted: December 24, 2011 in Love, Thought of the Day
Tags: ,

The same love can leave you breathless in ecstasy and take your breath away in pain

The same love can send you soaring to the stars or drive you to the edge of ever after

The same love can promise you forever or give you less than half of that

The same love can speak softly from the heart or speak without thinking at all

The same love can heal all the wounds or leave you with nothing at all

The same love…the same love

 

Please comment freely
  1. Don’t fall in love. True love brings true HEARTACHE.
  2. Don’t veer from the recipe. The cake will FAIL.
  3. Don’t leave the store without that really cute purse. When you go back for it it will be GONE.
  4. Don’t EVER dry shave your legs. You will CRY.
  5. Don’t post that really good essay you just wrote on the other class website trying to kill two birds with one stone. Someone will plagiarize it and you will end up defending your greatest WORK.
  6. Don’t forget to have a spare key made for your car. You will pay many times more for a LOCKSMITH.
  7. Don’t leave the toilet roll empty when you are finished. You will be the next one back and CURSING yourself.
  8. Don’t buy that package of Oreos at the grocery store when you are depressed. You will eat the entire thing and feel WORSE.
  9. Don’t miss the opportunity to tell your family you love them. Some day you will WISH you had.
  10. Don’t forget to come back and read my next blog. It will make you LAUGH.

The sun is shining through the gray clouds. I love it. After all, we are in sunny California. The sun is supposed to shine. Right? Some people think it’s always beach weather and that Hollywood is right around the corner. Not always so. I spoke to a friend who lives in another state the other day and has never been to California. She asked if I had been to the beach since returning to California. Although it might be tolerable there, I would rather venture that one hour drive when I know without a doubt I can lay back in the soft, warm sand without inhaling a salty, mouthful of the gritty stuff. Winter in central California doesn’t typically inspire a trip to the beach. Oh, how I look forward to a ride to the coast when the weather warms. Soon, I tell myself, very soon. Perhaps only one more month.

A brisk walk has been on my agenda all day. I must fulfill my need for the outdoors before sunset, which is about one hour away. It was in the 50s today. And, a faint southerly breeze reminds me that summer is still but an illusion. And, it’s not an entirely pleasant wisp of wind, since the town I live in is surrounded by dairies. Lots and lots of cows. I would venture to say there are no less than ten of them within a five mile radius of my home. So, regardless of the country beauty that surrounds our housing development, the scent of the cow poop shall be a contender for my attention as I vigorously stroll the avenue. I am happy to say this scent is in no way toxic.

As I set out with my little dog on her leash in one hand, and a doo doo bag in the other, I surrender myself to the exhilaration of the moment. A half block away I turn the corner which leads out of the neighborhood and onto a paved path that is flanked by freshly plowed fields with old redwood barns. There is also a creek and barren trees that have given way to the wind and list to the south. I feel their pain.There are more clouds rolling in from the south-west that are darker than those through which the sun currently peeked. Perhaps there is more rain on the near horizon. Not a bad thing, I think as I walk vigorously to combat the chill.

In the field across the street are prolific patches of lush green weeds everywhere the tractor could not reach, and inspired by the recent rains followed by spurts of warm, nurturing sunshine. As I look a little closer I spot a culinary treasure! The wild greens I grew up eating every year during the spring. Mustard greens! I get excited, pick up my pace, and decide I will return with a knife and bag to gather some for dinner.

As a child I had the unique opportunity to eat many things that the kids down the street never knew were eatable and did not particularly like. The mustard greens were one of these. My grandfather, a first generation Italian-American, plowed fields in the early spring and brought bunches of them home for dinner. Although, Nana would usually cook them, on occasion he would take on the responsibility. He was gruff and extremely down-to-earth in all aspects of his life. Including his cooking. His preparation of the greens was basic yet delicious. After he boiled them he would fry them with bacon and garlic. I too will pass on the grand tradition of teaching my sons the art of cooking from what the earth so willingly provides.

Once I reach my intended destination, and turn-around point, I realize I must hurry. I feel the threat of an impending down-pour, yes, it begins to sprinkle. As I turn back I am treated with a spectacular sight. The sun has graciously provided me vivid purple reds as she makes her decent in the west on the fair side of swaying palms. Tonight the sun will set and lure the willing eye of every artist and picker of wild greens. I shall return to pick them tomorrow.

It is freezing this morning. I am exaggerating. I guess freezing is a relative term since I don’t have icicles hanging from my nose or eye lashes, but my fingers are stiff and the temperature gauge in the hallway reads 66 after the heater running for an hour.  I put on my hoodie but it hasn’t done the trick yet. Which confidentiality is white. You know the old adage not to wear black on a hot day because black absorbs the heat. Perhaps the white is absorbing the cold? Note to self, add black hoodie to shopping list.

My little blue beta fish who sits off to the side of my monitor looks kinda happy this morning. It doesn’t seem that the cold has made a bit of difference to him. He is swimming through the shards of sunshine shooting through the middle of his tiny square tank. I kinda want to jump in there with him and share in the warmth of his fluid motion. Is it wrong for me to long to be a fish with a tank in the sun?

Ah, but yes! Because then I wouldn’t have the luxury of a nice hot cocoa with whipped topping. Which reminds me of the time I felt sorry for my daddies tropical fish because they didn’t have any Hershey’s Cocoa to drink. I poured what remained in the container, after making myself a cup, into the tank. Through the eyes of a four year old they looked very happy.

Off for immediate revival. Yes, HOT chocolate!