Thankful. Each. Successive Day. TToT Time.

24 hrs. I did not open the laptop since yesterday morning early. Wasn’t in me. I was am, in escape mode. (hey Lizzi! you know what I’m talkin’ about). And so, you might say I’ve got some hypo gratitudes amidst the self-indulgence (or is it more a restorative process?). Do they need to be named or identified? Naah. To do so gives them more life than they deserve. Let them starve. We’re all gathered here today (and the rest of the weekend) to enjoy the offerings of those writers who participte in the weekly hop known across time as The Ten Things of Thankful. Originally created and hosted by our friend, in the truest sense of the word, Lizzi Lewis,  its stewardship has more recently been under that of the famous wordsmithstress Josie Two Shoes. Thank you Josie for transitioning this hop.

You know, I don’t go on the FB much anymore. Every day or 2 or 3 I’ll open ‘er up. I was thinking of Michelle Liew last week. Was it fortuitous that this morning was one of those days I went on the FB? Oh yeah. Because today is Michelle’s birthday, even though her day is practically over at this writing (she lives in the future you know lol). Which is the roundabout way I came upon the reprint below. It came up in my FB feed in one of those ‘hey, look what you used to do” taunts. (no, really. not in one of those moods)

Today is about the thankfuls. The reprint? It represent all kinds of TFs. The least of which is an example of writing as if I didn’t have a care in the world, which in 2012, I surely did. And yet, it shows me that it is within my power to excel in spite of circumstance. It reminds me that all is relative. It reminds me that I am more than I could have thought I was.

Life. Music. Creativity. Choice. Good health. Friendship. Love. Family. Safety. Technology. Enjoy the vintage Girlie. I included the comments because, well, they still make me smile.

Edge remnants and such…

I have a coupla posts about the Cat.  So what?  Of mice and men, cats and magic….there but for the grace of the Cat go I.  Timelines?  Did someone mention timelines? What?  That was “timeframe”?  I see.

I’m thinkin’ I have one more post about the Cat here.  I mean, who doesn’t have a “Trilogy”?  Back to the Future, The Matrix…The Godfather.  Besides, you know what they say about trilogies.  OK, the number 3 at least…. “it happens in 3’s, they go in 3’s, 3rd times a charm”, etc.

All of us can easily conjure up on the giant screen inside our brains, famous movie  trilogies. Or recollect fondly? from our formative years the various religious references involving trilogies -Father, Son, Holy Ghost, Taoist Trilogy, the theory of clarks, scotts, rogers.…  Aren’t there 3 major food groups?  And what about the I, IV, V?  Huh? Huh?!  Triads, whether they be religious, criminal, physical or musical in nature, are significant.

Life is a triad. Can we call it a Trilogy?  There are 3 “events”: we’re born, have a “life” and  we die.  3 components that are linked and intertwined, in my humble opinion, in an Escher kind of way.  There is no starting point A that immediately and linearly produces the B that ends with the flatline C.  As a clarklike female, I prefer to think of life more like a Mobius strip and my existence as simple “configuration space”.   I know what you’re thinkin’ about now….”any minute Girlie’s gonna go off on a Pythagorean rant with a side dish of discourse regarding the importance of adhering to proper Euclidian etiquette when in the company of  well to do, hypontenustic people. LOL

……don’t worry.  I’m better now.  Sometimes when we freefloat, ponder the past, search the present or plan for the future we find ourselves veering off into all sorts of uncharted territory – landscapes morphed by memory, the litter of lingering feelings strewn along the roadsides… it’s easy to miss the paw prints.  But if we are lucky, like little Jamaal, we’ll have a shoulder upon which to perch for however brief the moment, and the world will open up again to life lessons and the Cat….

9 thoughts on “Edge remnants and such…”

  1. clarkscottroger

    Need I point out that the biped in your photo is dressed in a cat.5 Tee Shirt? Sort of a Piltdown of Doctrine Fashion

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    1. Indeed he is. Astute eye sir!
      I myself am in possession of a cat.5 tee shirt. It would be considered vintage today. It is still wearable and dare I say still in fashion. It resides in a drawer directly underneath my new Wakefield Doctrine tee shirt. And what a coincidence! Both are of a black and white design. (sigh)

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    1. Well my dear. Glad you asked and in the absence of Clark and Roger and even the Lunchbox, I shall respond to your query. They, of course, are always welcome to supplimentate. (my homage to rogerian expressions today. lol)
      The shirts were commissioned in honor, in deference to the feline, Arthur…deistically known as “the Cat”.
      Gentlemen? Anything to add?

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  2. FUCK!!! KA! KA! *

    (*standing in for Lunchbox Lennie)

    lol

    The expression at the time was, ‘he was a cat and a half’, which was to pay homage to the feline form of ‘Arthur’ the cat pictured in these last few Posts.

    Just a little more lingusitic silliness from those mental institution outmates down at Treasure Rd!!

    (linguistics YEAH I got ya lingustics!!! )

    .
    FUCK!

    Like

  3. There is no ‘in’ or ‘out’ for the mentally hamstrung. It is a frame of existence that you bring with you everywhere, and a damned good thing too. How tedious this would all be without an alternate reality or two in your back pocket.

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Edging My Way to a 6. Sentence Story that is.

Welcome to GirlieOnTheEdge. Funny thing happened on my way to the 6, you know, the weekly hop hosted by our good friend zoe aka IvyWalker. Well, yesterday, every good intention in place for getting a rough draft down, I found myself struggling. Nothing remotely inspirational was coming to mind. It had been a gorgeously sunny, immitation summer, bluest sky day and early evening was beckoning in its dusklike beauty. So I went for a walk. As I was nearing the end of my little outing, a few straggling lines crawled into view. I texted them to my self thinking “yeah, not bad. could work. think I’ve got something cool here”.

And so, as I sat down tonight (Wednesday) and began typing those sentences it hits me…“nothing. I got nothing! totally sucks.”  So what’s a Girlie to do? Frankly, it was late, I was tired and thinking I’d just not write yet another post. On a whim, I opened last week’s unfinished, partial post draft. Know what? This week’s cue word was in the 6 sentences draft post I’d written last week! Ironic, eh? Well, what say we take a gander at what I intended for last week’s 6 Sentence Story, shall we?

“Liz… oh, my God, something’s wrong!
What are you talking about Anna? Nothing’s wrong sweetie, everyone’s been seated, Father O’Brien is waiting in the vestibule, the music is set and cued, you’re just feeling some last minutes jitters.
As soon as Liam gets here, we’ll get this show on the road.
Come on Anna, sit down, you look like you’ve just seen 20 ghosts, you’d never know I spent an hour on your makeup!
Sit down girl, you’re shaking like a leaf…”

Image result for left at the altar

Ten is the Number of Thankfuls. +

Hey! It’s stupidly late, 9:37 pm, to be opening up the ‘top to write a 6 Sentence Story that should already be “running”. But lately, I can’t say I’ve been on top of the writing thing.

I was hugely excited when Zoe posted the entire month of 6 Sentence Story cue words figuring I had a huge advantage knowing the words so far in advance. No excuse for not writing a story each week. Right?! Right?! Am I right?!

And you wanna know something? When I read the 4 cue words, I thought to myself, “ye-e-sss! these are good words. I can write a story for each one. won’t that be a great comeback!” So much for the comeback. Maybe, after awhile, you don’t get any comebacks.

Ahem….you can guess the date of that draft, eh? In my own words, I tell myself! that after awhile there are no comebacks. So here I am, for better or for worse, participating (for better or for worse) in Josie’s Ten Things of Thankful bloghop. (ya started a good thing Lizzi).

Nothing like death to help re-align one’s priorities, sharpen one’s perspective. It was with sadness I attended the viewing and service of a friend’s mom this past week. I am thankful to have been among the many who had come to pay their respects and lend their support. The residuary thankful, a reinforcement and reminder that life is way too short.

Thanks be that the root canal I underwent went…well! Can’t believe that I am saying this but it was surprisingly painless. Unless you take into consideration the jokes told by my endontist. While I appreciated his attempt to make it a comfortable experience, he had a rather unfair advantage 🙂 The residuary thankful, I only have to go back to my regular dentist for a filling. Not a crown. Except I’m not quite sure how that came about….mine is not to question why? Except that I will lol. I’m a clark.

Speaking of…I am thankful always for the Wakefield Doctrine. It is by far, in my humble opinion, the most efficacious life tool ever disseminated. Also known as, beginning as, “the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers”, it has helped me navigate the social network of life. As an “outsider“, I was often at a total loss as to why people behaved as they did (in particular situations). Today, having the benefit of being able to identify a person’s worldview, ie how they relate themselves to the world, I have a tremendous advantage. The residuary thankful, I am more confident interacting with people, more relaxed in social situations.

Home and Heart. I’m thankful for this most pleasant glimpse into the lives of very enjoyable characters. Characters whose origins came out of Blogdominion. The residuary thankful is witnessing the power of practice. Practice makes perfect, isn’t that what they say? 😀

I am thankful for faith. The ability to believe in the face of “odds against”. Is that not the nature of faith? The residuary thankful is that I will not ever truly give up. Faith may be considered by some a rationalization, denial of reality. I choose to believe that to believe, is to never give up.

I am grateful to have found a Honda Dealership whose service department is open on weekends! and whose service, if I am to judge on my 1 and only recent experience, was excellent. The residuary benefit is, should anything more be needed for my “legacy car”, I have a place to take her that I feel confident will do right by her 🙂

Wow. I’m up to #7 and still going, lol. Many of you are familiar with one Cynthia Calhoun. Author, artist, educator, activist. She recently posted a guided meditation at her new site Intuitive and Spiritual. I’ve got to say, Ms. Sageleaf is a natural for guided meditation. Her voice is soothing, relaxing. I’m hoping she produces more guided meditations for clearly she has the knack! The residuary thankful is that I have a little more motivation to make sure that each day, I try to “meditate”, communicate in silence, my intentions for the day.

I give many thanks for the roof over my head, the food I eat (doesn’t matter if I eat half a box of Froot Loops for dinner lol), transportation, a good job. The residuary thankful here? Endless.

I will never, ever stop being thankful for music. It is the lifeblood, it is self exression, it is catharsis, it is motivation. It is all things. Residuary thankful for music is that it has been with me when there has been no one, been with me when I am with others, it is eternal.

No! No way am I at the 10th thankful. No, it doesn’t have to end at 10 but if I am to adhere to the rules (excepting the option to invoke SBOR/BOSR 1.3) then I will conclude with the thankful for having awakened another day. The residuary thankful, as you will all guess, is yet one more opportunity to get it right.

 

 

 

 

6 Sentence Story Time. In Edgelike Fashion.

Welcome to GirlieOnTheEdge. I return here, briefly, to participate in Thursday’s premier bloghop, 6 Sentence Stories. Thank you zoe, for being the hostess of this creative, fun, challenging….vexing weekly exercise. That’s right, vexing. See, some of us, those who build the blocks we call “writers”, find the challenge of writing a little story-ette in only 6 sentences (no more, no less) somewhat daunting.

Cue of the week? Did someone say “Fault“?…

Trading barbs like ancient Mesopotamian traders on the shores of the Euphrates River, the 2 forever friends stood steadfast, their toes digging into metaphorical sand, each trying in vain to make the other understand their point of view.

Their differences, their conflict, manifesting according to their respective worldviews, had driven a wedge between them, the chasm of conflict blinding each to the other’s grievance.

There was no seeing what the other was seeing, no feeling what the other was feeling, understanding a foreign concept because, while each walked through the same life, life manifested itself differently, as foreign to one as it was for the other.

The years that grew their friendship, that shored up the ties that bound them, now seemed stretched beyond measure. A gulf so wide neither one recognized they’d already converged at the crossroads.

Choice rarely comes wrapped in pretty paper, the difficult choice… when it is what it is for one, and it is what it is for the other, neither is to blame because neither is at fault.

 

 

 

 

Yeah, put ’em Here at the Edge. All 6 Sentences.

So.  You may or may not have a writing process. I used to. I think. Or maybe I had a special time to write. Yeah, that rings a bell. Any-who, it’s 7:50 pm this Thursday evening, the 1st day of the 6 Sentence Story Bloghop hosted by the wonderful Ivy Walker. Whatsay we begin by giving Ms. Walker a rousing round of applause. She’s still hostessing strong and this week she has certainly challenged me with the word cue of the week: “TAP”. Use this word in any of it’s definitions, acronyms, you name it as long as there are 6 sentences with this cue word appearing somewhere among them, you’re golden.

She faltered in front of the non descript, narrow shelving, standing with the weight of her indecision resting  squarely, if not fully, in her left leg.

Why was this so difficult? No one needs to translate the label, no interpreter is needed to describe what her own eyes were clearly seeing but maybe that was the problem, the choices.

There’s always the option to turn around and return to the reliable, steadfast staples, the tried and true familiar, surrounding us, embracing us, day after day.

What were these breadlike “things”, these baked goods with the odd names? Look at this one, surely a misspelling, as no one, on purpose, would use that many “a”s in the spelling of a name?!

At the first tap of my foot on the industrial tiled floor of the tired supermarket, I reached for the bag that read “Guaaaracha” and thought, why not, misspelling or not, the oddly shaped, squared off ovals of breadlike bread appeared to have a light coating of sugar atop them.

The pavlovian response was unmistakable, certain to overpower last minute indecision fortified by a latent fear of the unknown, my path now leading me to checkout…

Image result for guaracha bread

Girlie’s Bedside TToT

I was given the opportunity to live impeccably today. Whether or not I do is my choice. As is my custom each morning, I wrote morning words. There have been the occaisonal groupings of these words that I’ve felt compelled to share here at GirlieOnTheEdge. This morning’s words were such a grouping and with a little addition of a pronoun or two, they are for you all too:) And so, a (partial) peek into the not yet fully caffeinated brain of a clark…

“…! I realize now that the saying “all that it is is what it is” is tricky indeed. While it is succinct in its meaning, the implication is there for an allowable disregard to responsibility. To self. How? Well, if the tonal has anything to do with the interpretation, you might insist that there is nothing to do about “it”. Whatever the “it” represents. Which is to say one’s immediate life (circumstances). True statement only in part. I wonder sometimes that life simply isn’t a matter of difficult choices and acceptance. That it consists of “making the best” of each and every day. Which on face value is the challenge we all face. To wake up another day is to accept the challenge of “doing it again”. What’s so difficult about that? Each successive day should be the only day (as we are promised no tomorrow). Such a gift. Who am I to squander? If this were my last day on earth, what, what in the world would I choose to do? Now the catch to asking this question is….I know, the tonal screaming, “well, you haven’t… you have to go to the grocery store…. Time filled with only the commercials. Where’s the movie, the TV program? Filler material has its purpose but it should never be the focus. So let’s focus. Let’s parse the advertisements and enjoy the feature presentation. If it’s not to your liking then re-write the script. It’s your script. It’s my script. Responsibilities? It boils down to being in the moment, being aware of the moment and where you are in the moment. Your place, your relationship to it and those who may be involved in it. It’s about enjoying each breath we take, appreciating what our 5 senses are gifting us. It’s about putting worry, panic and fear aside, if only for 1 minute at a time. You’d be surprised by how quickly time adds up.”

Yes, it is a recurrent theme with me. The challenge each day to make it a better day by being of the day, free from fear, doubt and the usual “suspects”.

While absent many months from the web stage, I’ve never forgotten the many individuals I’ve come to know, their words, their offering of friendship and encouragement. I search for the vehicle by which I may “pay it forward”, and by returning to those that which was offered me. If I ever doubt there is still goodness in the world I have only to look to these folks for reassurance. I am thankful 10x over for this.

I worry of climate change and global warming. I don’t know that the atypical warm temperatures this past week have anything to do with global warming, but I sure am enjoying 75 degrees in February!

I give thanks when I can be self aware of lessons being taught to me, shown me. About my own self. Often, seemingly, ordinary, mundane events occur that hold lessons. If only we are astute enough to recognize them. I am thankful for my senses this week, my self awareness. I recognize that analogous to this is the awareness that surely there was something I missed!

the Wakefield Doctrine. What in the world would I do without it!

Music.

Hearing birds singing way early in the mornings about the advent of spring and new life. It’s here people! It’s almost here:)

Clark’s book Almira because it is true. There is always more to the story.

The fact that daylight savings time is only 2 weeks away AND that it will be daylight savings time when my birthday arrives days later. Bonus!

Transition. It happens more than we like sometimes. Sometimes good, sometimes bad, it forces us to adapt and that, is ever opportunity. I’m thankful for Lizzi Lewis, her friendship, her writing and her creation of a bloghop that is perpetual. We have a new steward(ess) of Lizzi’s gift. Thank goodness! Did I list 10? Today, it’s not about the number, it’s about the thanks.

 

The Silver Surfer…it’s Six Sentence Thursday

It’s Thursday so why not write a 6 Sentence story. Well, maybe not a story. Maybe a 6 sentence fragment. Yeah, that’s it. Fragment. It’s Zoe’s thing, ya know and a darned good thing too. She offers the challenge every week to any and all to throw some letters, a few words, up on the screen, today’s version of pen and paper. 6 sentences. No more, no less.  So here it goes….

The silver haired surfer gazed hungrily at the roiling waves tempting, teasing, taunting him.
Propped sloppily in an ancient chair, like an oft used stage prop soon destined to be cataloged and archived amidst other relics in a warehouse not of his choosing, he let slip a tear. There were no blinds or curtains on the window, all the more to torment eyes long used to the stinging of salt and sea spray the same salt and sea spray that glazed the panes of clear glass just beyond his reach. The energy was still there, coursing through a frame twisted, like an aged juniper tree welded to a coastline ravaged by decades of storms, every element nature can inflict. This day, he would have given his one remaining leg for the opportunity to walk out of the 2 story faded stucco building. And then he would run, run across sand swept hot asphalt, a lover to his beloved, thankful for burning sand beneath his soles, small price to pay for the chance to embrace the ocean one last time.

 

Image result for gnarled tree on coastline