It's Summer Composition Numero Uno Thing

Dear America,

it's summer time; and right on cue, given it is now August, it has come complete with... 

summer distractions,

summer attractions,

summer excursions and
summer exertions...

for the plethora of summer affections runs wide and long and high and deep.

But almost without warning, the ebb and flow of my usual day has suddenly come to a complete stop; today marks the beginning of a little stay-cation, as they say, for the old Gthang... with a little house sitting, a little dog sitting (Simon), a little kitty sitting (Dexter), and even a little bearded dragon sitting (Charlie)...So as our summer weather continues to be hot and humid with no relief in sight, this girl will be drowning in a pool of testosterone and chewy toys, and what's not to love about that?  Just me and d'boys in the hood, for a fortnight and a day and all play.

And of all things, there is even leftover pizza in the fridge!  Say it isn't so.
...and it's probably enough to feed me for the next 36 hours -- if managed like a man on mars with limited resources (and that is just a plug for a great summer flick)  --  if re-calculating the remaining slices to be spaced out about 9 hours apart.  Not that it's necessary to conserve; there are grocery stores and strip malls full of take-out within a three mile radius in every direction, so it's all good. [Not to mention, I brought whisky! Of course...duh. Jameson, just in case you're wondering...]

But wouldn't it be nice not to have to leave the house for a day, or two, or even three? And for that matter, why even brush my teeth.

And just like that, let the summer non-glam-ping begin --  albeit a mere twelve minutes away from home, as the crow flies --  and yet, with the curtains closed to protect the neighbors, and a little imagination, I am already feeling a world apart.

For it's not my house.  This isn't how I live.  I am not surrounded with my things, aside from a few books brought over for navigation; I may as well be high in the Himalayas, aiming to experience nirvana, with my only companion being the rarefied thin air and an occasional sighting of an Himalayan big horned blue sheep (which, just to be clear, is neither blue nor a sheep...teehee).

...as a crazy thought hits me right about the third eye region .......interrupting nirvana..... and causes me to pause and wonder.... perhaps, miracles upon miracles, I can write a little something something, for it's been such a long long time....

Oh yes, bring on the summer compositions --  complete with summer exclamations, damnations, and sensations --  anyone?  Maybe even a whole string of 'em...just, like, one G thing after another, after another.   Who needs tennis when there is pizza, a laptop, and a comfy recliner so perfectly aligned, right?  Does it even matter what time it is?  Aside from feeding the wee menagerie, all things considered, the truth of the matter is that all things conventional have gone on a little holiday, as well.

The routine.. brand.new, and sitting awfully close to non-existent.

The common trappings of the makings of three balanced meals, is non-obligatory, fully discretionary, and not even shared with anyone.

I am alone and not only living in a new galaxy, but am entirely rotating around my own private sun, in my own little orbit, and given all the makings of seclusion, not a thing should bump into me for days, if all things go as planned.

summer contemplation, I'd like you to meet, summer composition; oh, how do you do...and like magic, the mind will piece together a few thoughts, the fingers will tap a few words, and before you know it, the little diary that could manages to make it over the mountain for another day. [I know, I know, I went from space imagery to a train without connecting the tracks....oh well.]

[And that's just the opening,  albeit coming to a complete stop.]
Keep calm and blog on...

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the beginning 

God created the heaven and the earth.

Genesis 1:1

It's almost this basic.

It feels as if, as a whole, as a society, as a culture, these United States of America fails to understand its relationship to Creation, to our Creator, if at all. We are growing less about creation and more about destruction.

In my Catholic devotional this morning, the first page opened to discusses Nature vs. Grace.  And it begins with a word from Christ, saying: "My child, I want you to become a spiritual man, that is, one who is wise enough to recognize the various forms of self-deception and the many graces which come your way each day.  There is in your nature a deep selfishness which does not always seek what is really good for you..."

Continuing with, "Nature is selfish.  It will try to enjoy everything on earth and still gain Heaven.  Even where sin is involved, nature attempts to make excuses, for self and looks for reasons to favor self."

In America, we have grown selfish, drawn to our nature side versus grace, in every way.

So much so, we have lost sight of what made America exceptional in the first place, upon her creation, at a time when our founders recognized that which was fully divined and orchestrated by the hand of God, and made real with the words, Divine  Providence; while it took the Revolutionary War, to cement it into history, creating the pathway to the life, the liberty, and the pursuit of happiness as proclaimed in our Declaration of Independence, and ultimately, the ability to create and be and do anything  in America, for one and for all.

This liberty made the history, that produced the precedence, to make the ability for a Facebook, and its founders,  to make billions of dollars.

How dare they censure history, how dare they coddle its membership and their community of followers within it's liberal, leftist universe by controlling content -- especially if such content is simply another American bearing opposition politics and ideology.


Case in point:  Elizabeth Heng.
To which she lambastes Zuckerberg, saying,

“It is unbelievable that Facebook could have such blatant disregard for the history that so many people, including my own parents, have lived through,” said Elizabeth. “I’m sure it is shocking for some people to hear about this kind of injustice, but this is reality. This is why I wake up every single day with the fight and determination to have a voice and make a difference in my community. Neither Facebook nor any other company in the tech industry get to silence our stories. We’ve seen it over and over again with Republican candidates and organizations. This kind of censorship is an attack on the freedoms that we have as Americans to express what we believe in, and we must hold Facebook accountable.”

It's a sad day for America.

And not that I'm all that into this guy.....but about the Alex Jones bruhaha...

Yeah, its all fine and dandy and tastes like candy until somebody comes after your views, your ideology, your religion, your freedom of speech, your right to assemble, etc. etc...


It may not be pretty these days in America, there is that. [Hypocrisy lives in all kinds of neighborhoods and states of mind.]

But, by golly, if we lose our ability to speak freely, to ask questions, to question authority, to say that is wrong or this is right -- then we have lost everything, in my book, everything.

But to everything there is a season, right.. turn, turn, turn....

And it is summer right now...
....and this girl is house sitting and dog sitting and kitty sitting and bearded dragon sitting as of right now.  There is hope that a string of Gthings will wind their way to you through the wonderful world of the  www over the next couple of weeks, as more precious time becomes more and more all mine.

I am just pleased that I showed up today.

Blog #944 is in the can: summer composition numero uno.

Make it a Good Day, G  

It's an Unfinished Business Thing

Dear America,

"The Lord God said, 'it is not good for the man to be alone.  I will make a helper suitable for him.' Now the Lord Lord God had formed out of the ground all the beasts of the field and all the birds of the air.  He brought them to the man to see what he would name them; and whatever the man called each creature, that was its name..."  Genesis 2:18-19

oh about twelve years ago, this girl was in the midst of a transition, so to speak.  And when I say transition, for an Aries such as I am, it usually comes fast and furious and without any looking back.

Hindsight being what it is -- it's now rather amusing how one thing might end, suddenly, sadly, and with all the emotional somersaults that come with -- and then in a flash, realize oh how great, oh how great thou art, for that path was not mine.  

This is my path.  

This.  

The place where little old gthing finds herself today.  And is it still a work in progress?  you bet, for I am unfinished.

What brought this on?  Where are you going with this G? 

Well, to go back to the origins, it all began with a blank canvas received from a guy I'm no longer with (that was where the fast and furious, referenced above, comes in, right?).  It was part of a birthday present...just before we split in pieces.

And at the time, my immediate response was to just let my little girl paint them all (for he gave me nearly a half dozen in various sizes)...for I wasn't going to even touch them.  So she painted an elephant on one (16 X 20), a mama duck and her ducklings on another (24 X 36!), and that was that for awhile.

Then one day, long after the break up, after the moon and stars realigned in my world, and eventually finding myself coming back around and with my creative spirit rushing up to the surface -- there I was, determined to totally "move on." My thoughts quickened, gathering enough courage to resume dominion over my life once more.  This girl was going to paint something. 

And she did.

It was rather simple, nothing earth shattering; it was a big shell, with a little shell right beside her, against the most beautiful cerulean blue background.  And while this 20 X 24 inch masterpiece bounced from one part of the house to another, depending on my mood, one day a couple years later, my little girl and me found ourselves all packed up with somewhere else to go.  

From there, this picture -- with a name of it's own, if only in my own mind -- was now across town, placed in the entry way, under a small table, almost hidden from view.

Of course, I knew it was there.  And often it would catch my eye, like a sparkly, shiny thing, and it would make me smile...for I knew it's name.  And I knew what happened inside me on the day it was born.

On the day it was born, it signified significant change in me.  But even so, there it sat, nearly out of sight and under a table,  for years and years...until about two weeks ago.

In the midst of developing a picture wall -- beginning with the placement of three framed photos of my girl, choosing some gorgeous snapshots of her trip to Salta, Argentina -- the instant messaging from the universe told me to put up the shells.  

And I did.

And it was good.

But not good enough.

Looking around, all of a sudden an ah-ha moment ambushed me from out of nowhere.  There it was.  Sitting under another tabletop, in the accompaniment of a bunch of antique books, was a little something I framed for sentimental reasons.  When we had to put our Boston down, BooBoo, in 2015, one of the condolences received was this beautiful card.  In splashes of pink and gold and jade, posies framed a few words from Ecclesiastes, "there is a time for everything under heaven." 

So the wall continued to build, organically and wonderfully; first a row of three black framed prints, then the 20 X 24 shells, then the itty bitty 5 X 7 humdinger at the top, reigning supreme an idea worthy of screaming from the mountaintops -- prescribing taking life as it comes!  For until we are finished, we are all unfinished and a work in progress, good, bad or indifferent.  There truly is a time for everything under heaven.

And it was good.

But not good enough.

It was time...

So sitting under the wall of pictures, the snapshots of life and times and memories and magnificence, my urge to finish something started twelve years ago came over me.  

The shells needed a name, the name that was locked inside my head since the very first brushstroke.

"mother and child"

And in the process of painting its name, the finishing touches of puff-paint, in glorious swooshes of curly q's and swirls, began to twirl on top of the shells in free abandon.  My hand and eye were bouncing from one edge of the canvas to another so fast and furious, it was a wonder this girl could even find the self control to stop.

But she did.

And it was good.

And I'm pretty sure, it's finished -- this blank canvas has met it's maker and it is done. (I think)

And in this moment, I must thank a guy named John Gray, of John Gray's World, for the inspiration back behind this day; you, my dear soul, are a Godsend.  For yesterday, I sat there listening to John Gray and his message -- just one within a series of messages that he has named, "Dominion" -- with my mind blown.  For in no uncertain terms -- no gray to be seen nor found -- John Gray explains in black and white our essential birthright, given to us by God.  (And referring to the very verse in Genesis found up top, at the start of this day...)

In order to live a solid, secure, life under God, and in the way the world made expressly by God was designed -- a world that flourishes in goodness, and charity, and blessings, and anchored with hard work and diligence and activity -- we must come out from under the table and take dominion over our life.  

In the beginning, man -- as in mankind -- was given the power to name things, to take dominion over the animals of the earth, giving each one a name.  And as Gray points out, while honoring God in every word, each of us was given our own garden to plant, to create, to build, to name, by the power of the Holy Spirit.   

We were not born to be placed under a table, sub-par and out of sight; we were made in God's image to take dominion over our lives...not from a place of arrogance, but from a place of gratitude and grace, knowing we are children of the Almighty, Omniscient,  Creator of all things Divine.  We ARE one of those things.  This earth, this country, is a gathering place of cerulean souls and opalescent dreams; a place where heaven and earth meet and find a way to come to life, individually and collectively, over time and generations.

On a larger canvas, America is the creation of Divine Intelligence meeting up with the unique divinity within our founders.  At one time, the canvas was blank, empty, ready for the revolution to march across the vast landscape of things to be and not to be; every generation comes chock full of seasons which come and go and have their way with us under the light of day or the cover of night.

So be it.

In the last twelve years -- 

in the time it took for me to gain the courage, to meet my obstacle of a broken spirit, and see it come back to life right before my very eyes, although not all at once; and now, being at this place, that purposely elevates it to such heights on my living room wall, and thereby, making the things that matter, the things that give meaning and relevance to everything under heaven for me, so clear, and not only that, my own personal centerpiece --  surely, I am not the only one experiencing a transformation of transition....

America has come through the second administration of Bush, an entire eight years of Obama, and is beginning a brand new season with Trump.   

The irony is, the revolution, the changes, the evolution of a living masterpiece in America, will live to see another day and in all the days to come, until such time it is finished -- not according to mankind -- but according to the Lord.  This is a given.  It is settled science.   And God already knows how and when it ends.

The thing that rings most loud and true, is our unique ability to become something. As individuals and as countrymen, we seem to meet crossroads of where we go from here every single day.  The canvas keeps building upon an idea, and another, and another.

This can be overwhelming, this power to name who we are, deciding where we go and what we stand for in every moment, and becoming a choice that lives and breathes and carries its own life force all its own.  It is a great responsibility.  

IT is our duty and delight, really. 

" a time to be born, and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot...a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them....a time to keep and a time to throw away...a time to be silent and a time to speak...a time for war and a time for peace."   

Just a spattering of seedlings from Ecclesiastes 3

Long, long time ago, my parents gave me a name....Gretchen.  

I gave my girl a name, on the day she was born, too.

I gave my love for her a name, on the day when the shells eventually came out from under the table and displayed in the center of our home..."mother and child."

I gave my creative spirit a name, upon this blog, proclaiming the day in the life of this American girl, ain't nothing but a gthang, baby...

And from this day forward, my aim is to continue to create the things worthy of giving it a name; for God gave each and every one of us a unique ability, the abundance of resources (even if unseen to the naked eye), and an enterprising spirit inside us, to take dominion over our life and make it good.

 

Emphasis on good.

Even though this blog has come to the end of the day, the day has only just begun and is yet unfinished --  just as I am unfinished [to the extent of that, only God knows how far this girl has to go from here...teehee).  Just as there is a time to write and a time to play, there is a time to work; and surely as the day is long, the time to work must come before the time to wine.   Besides, the work must get finished before we can call it done and give it a name...

Make it a Good Day, G