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Wondering Along – What’s on My Mind. As opposed to wandering along. I’m into playing with words
this morning. Like furiously frolicking. Anyway, I’ve been wondering about a
lot of things this morning. Nothing earth-shaking, really. A dream I had, which
after I’d awakened and had a chance to think about it, I realized that my sense
of beauty isn’t a standard one. Pretty much anybody I meet has some redeeming
quality. Like how Stephen King’s characters end up as ordinary people who do
extraordinary things.
Could I work that up into a story? I suppose I could. But it
is more of a stream of thought, an idea that runs through my own pieces pretty
regularly.
Like good writing. I’ve read things that make me cringe
because I wrote or thought that way once upon a time. So, why do I cringe? That
person is entitled to write the way they do. There are no rules out there,
other than grammatical ones, and even those are broken occasionally. Purposely,
I would think. Like, I sometimes want to write with fragments just because it
seems appropriate to the piece. Maybe if I am in a melodic or melancholy mood.
Sometimes.
I was poking around on Weberbooks.com this morning. I
think I might have chosen four or five books to read at no or low cost. Hey,
some people buy coffee. I get a book. Do I have time to read them all? No.
Right now, I must have over 3,000 Kindle books stacked up and circling. I’ll
get to them. Eventually. The joy, though, in having that kind of collection is
similar to walking into your public library or, if you’ve got some spendable
money, into a bookstore. I haven’t seen the inside of either one in a number of
years, but that’s only because I am housebound by choice. Don’t feel sorry for
me, please. It’s my choice. Just think, you can go to work in your robe. My
work, as a retired person, is writing. I also need to feed my head, and I do
that mainly with reading.
What I’m wondering about are the books I enjoy reading.
Romances are always a good choice. Learning about relationships is also
popular. Historical novels, in particular: the West in the US in the 1800s and
Medieval times in Europe. I like coming-of-age stories even though I’m 70 years
old. I remember what a torturous time that was for me. I’d like to see children
having a better time of it than I did. In a different world? I don’t know.
Maybe it’s already happening, and their parents just need to catch up.
Here's another thing I’m thinking about. The way people are.
I am drawn to people who are sensible. I admire people who can read the
weather, and farmers who can read the seasons.
I don’t have the language of nature other than to know that
when an aspen shows the underside of its leaves to the sky, rain is on the way.
Where the trees can speak to us. Because they can. I just don’t know much about
it. Oh, I do know one thing. I know there is a large grove of cottonwoods at
the edge of the big meadow in Yosemite Village that is connected by
mitochondrial-like tentacles in the soil to another grove of cottonwoods across
the way. Relatives who have moved to the next town, but who still stay in
touch.
Knowing that trees talk to each other feels like people
talking to each other. A sense of belonging and of unity.
Come to think of it, on a psychic level you can find the
people you’re related to, your friends in Spirit, your soul-group in your
dreams or in meditations. You don’t have to put out an “I’m looking for you” ad
in the personal section of some psychic newspaper. You just put out an all-call.
It’s what I call it. I don’t know how else to describe it. Like the prayers you
say for people in your tribe who are hurting somehow. You send them peace and
healing. In your all-call to your people, you can just think good thoughts for
them, whoever they are. You might someday know, or you might never know in this
lifetime. Just send support, love, good feelings to them.
By the way, you can do the same for loved ones who have
passed on. They can hear you.
Thanks for reading. Come back again for more as I move
through life with wonder in my heart.
Pauline Evanosky
Where I Am
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