Just Let Me -- G -- Indoctrinate You!

Thursday, April 6, 2017

It's All About This Little Light of Mine Thing

Dear America,

"I have to say that the world is a mess. 
I inherited a mess. 
Whether it's the Middle East. 
Whether it's North Korea. 
Whether it's so many other things. 
Whether it's in our country, horrible trade deals. 
I inherited a mess. 
We are going to fix it. 
We are going to fix it."  

there ya go (and thank you Real Clear Politics for the real clear video diary, attached);
and what a delicious press conference that was, with that hunka munka King Abdullah II of Jordan!  Yum :)

So Yesterday, so to speak, on the old GThing -- it somehow or other turned into days ago; as a little reminder, a truly upsetting book about sandwiches collided with another real page turner, a Japanese method of tidying up; that little book referred to itself as "life-changing magic" -- and all I can add to that is a big fat indeed.

After reading, closet cleaning, shredding and shedding and vacuuming, this girl promptly went to work untangling a twelve year relationship and releasing it into the cosmos with every emotion from piss to bliss.  It would seem in the madness to sweep each other off our feet, after pure attachment grew and grew, after the threads of life and love thoroughly and completely knotted up into a rather untidy ball, something about it no longer fit in the room; the more my heart tried to wrap itself around it and hold it tight, the more uncomfortable it was; it was if suddenly, this girl realized she accidentally inherited a complete mess, and everything became so clear.  This girl found herself twelve years a wave goodbye, like, real clear.

Some might say the girl went nuclear; but then again, what's the point in having these options if we don't sometimes use them, right?

And speaking of which, 
way to FILIbuster;
and hot damn our US SENATE

but back to me,
nobody puts baby in a corner, a closet, or heaven help me, on perpetual hold.  eh eh eh wrong again.

Joel Osteen's Sunday sermon was entitled, "Trouble is Transportation;" nothing happens by accident or without a reason...that we don't grow in the good times, but only through our troubles....as it takes us to places unknown...growing organically through what the experiences bring and the character it reveals....and finally, that people don't determine our destiny, God has the final say....all of which is sparkly and spot clean true, to which all I can add, is a big fat indeed!  [love that Osteen]

The thing is, making the decision wasn't a snap decision at all; it was a heavy heart that grew strong enough, resolute enough, and calm enough, to make it so, like a crystal clear wrecking ball made of diamonds and filled with unmet dreams and a patient purpose making its way through years of being kept in the dark, to where, finally, the path reveals itself in all it's glorious splendor in the phase we may as well call, what's next.  At this point, it almost doesn't even matter.

To some observers, it's an about-face; to others, it's an 'about-damn-time.'  Certainly, at this point, it doesn't even matter what you or I call it, for it's just done.  In the great scheme of things, it's just a completed season in the life of one little girl who happens to be sitting upright in the hand of God and waiting for further instructions.  Nothing is by accident, and everything is going according to plan.

Fear doesn't live here no more, no more.

And just as the president points out that, militarily speaking, he's not going to say what's next in the plans, nor telegraph to the world his every move as to where he's going and when, with all due respect; likewise, this girl is feeling a certain solidarity with the concept of mystery, and keeping the people waiting in the unknown (as if I have people; but gotta love what happens in the details, she-tales, right). 

Sunday's message, from Osteen, included a short story about a guy who played a little baseball.   He came home from the war, and started to play ball with the Detroit Tigers, and three years in, an injury took him out of the game permanently.  One day, to please his father, he went to work at a friend's pizza joint, working for free; he just had to leave his house and show up somewhere, everyday, to continue to live under his father's roof.  Long story shorter, he eventually started his own pizza place, and in turn, it kinda grew.  And grew.  And grew.  And one day, the franchise owner of Little Caesar's, Mike Ilitch, grew up into the position of owner of the Detroit Tigers...etc....
[Ilitch is no longer with us, bless his soul...]

But seriously serious -- 
Splendid, indeed, is the mystery of how the world is messy and orderly, congruently, from one moment to the next, isn't it?  Delta Delta Delta, can I get an amen?

So in the presence of being totally aware that I am infinitely unfinished, my life takes on a brand new vision like a lady in waiting, or a girl on a mission; a new me is out of the closet and wonders never cease. Here we go again and what a thrill it is!  Thanksgiving is taking me by the hand, confidence accompanies me in my every step out, and just maybe, baby needs a new pair of shoes; oh what a feeling -- a meeting of the minds between King Abdullah II of Jordan and President Trump can't touch this; real clear personal life, check.  And a stealthy we will go, we will go.   

God bless America; it's gonna be a good day no matter what happens, for this little light of mine knows how to shine all by herself; no surprise there, considering my preference for eggs is sunny side up.  Anyone can do it, really; if we look up long enough, in earnest, in praise, in thanksgiving, the Light will find us and shine down upon us and bring us peace.

Make it a Good Day, G

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