Books

It's why I'm late, instead of yesterday, writing today. Moving. Whoever said 'you can never have too many books' never had to move them all themselves. No way was I going to go out again or turn on the computer just for this, and that's saying a lot.

I'm sure there are exceptions, those who would do it multiple times, even. Though I might not be out of line in saying having fulfilled one fantasy of having a wall of books has been a bit encumbering. I've gone through the transition of giving away, acquiring, and losing, with, like a cockatiel who has eggs stolen or broken, makes more to compensate the loss so that the same amount is maintained. Not that I've ever counted them all mind you: just so they take up all of the spaces on the bookshelves.

Back to the encumbering. I was an athlete; would like to be one again. Thought I was unbreakable physically during younger days and pounded my body to its limits even through my child's early years. Diagnosis 2011: 'routine' pre-op chest x-ray. Scoliosis. Now this is something that's usually found in childhood; I didn't have it before, though I had 'always' been 'pre-disposed'. Diagnosis 2014: "extreme spinal deformity" (and three inches shorter; my son got taller than me earlier). Great. Not to say I wasn't feeling it; it was more than just aging. It was a combined toll of things that should never co-occur to any human at the same time.

Now life is a 'before' of what it will be like after 'treatment'. I could be the bionic woman, or not. We'll see. I researched not too many doctors for the first time I ever went under a knife; I was terrified, but it had to be done. I was having trouble sleeping and couldn't wear regular shoes; it was bad. Finally one said casually he could do it, and he did, well. Grateful forever for that, almost like having a new life, being able to wear sandals again, and walk further, until now, which makes the first trepidation look like a picnic.

Anyway, I think I'm (essentially) done with books. Have some great ones. The collection will go through a few minuses and pluses as is life, and I hope someone else will be doing most of the schlepping next time, and not because I can't. Because I don't want to.

Liberation

For causes I can't explain.  All of the previous year have not recognized my age.  Kept thinking I was actually the age I am now, on my birthday.  Last year, though a year younger, somehow thought of myself as the next year's age, this year's age.  Now that it's here, it's as though I'm the same age in my head two years running.  Now it's official: I'm the age I've thought of myself all of last year.  No idea why.


It's also a significant year in that my child will also be 'of age'.  'Free'.  A legal adult.  In a way, we are both liberated, in different ways.


God willing, there will be many new beginnings, and the intense pain of transition, yet again.  Still metamorphosing, further along in the journey. 


A home, a 'permanent' home.  Longer than a one year lease, at least.  A place to stretch out and regroup, again, in preparation for the actual permanent 'permanent' home, where a grandma age person will spend the rest of her days, to settle, organize, and progress, for a change.  Taking a shot at lost time with a beloved son that really can't be made up, however more than in recent years, to scratch the surface of a rebonding that will take the better part of the rest of my life. 


My mother was this age when she remarried, uprooting herself and relocating for a person she has now been married to longer than my father, who I've not seen since our grandmother passed eight years ago.  My mother is a point of reference.  She's making plans for the rest of her life, and this time nearly twenty years ago she embarked on a whole new life.  If she can do it, I can.  It's not too late for another chapter in the legacy, that my son can very soon again be a part of, and his children as well, when the time comes.


God willing.

Writing

The debate of the year will be using what's already written or starting over. There's been more than enough sent to many to compile volumes already, and this year there are the postcards that are the personal private property of a very special person. Maybe that's another book for another time. I can see it as written for children with illustrations.

How can I be an optimist with all that I've experienced so far and what may be coming? That someone always has it worse has been little consolation. I am an optimist, for those who don't know, cursed or blessed with a face that frowns when there's no feeling at all. Straight faced for us looks like sad, when it really isn't. And smiling is only most helpful with children. At this age, that's with whom it works best.

It's not that I expect or hope to see the good in people. It's the hope and expectation that the world will get better, one small act at a time. That those who harm others will be held accountable and become outnumbered and deincentivized from all that created so many problems. People are not property, or for sale, yet so many have managed to get around it at the expense of others. Of others' innocence, time, health, energy, and resources. It's not why we came here.

We are the third world country of more civilized planets. There is no danger we will be visited by aliens. There's nothing to learn from a planet that obviously even from space appears to be bent on destroying itself. Cruising by in a 'flying saucer' would have them move on to another sphere that creates rather than destroys its own.

Remaining hopes include a home where children can play and feel secure with all upheavals gone, health, energy, and the ability to see through plans long delayed, as well as the happiness and encouragement of one young man, that he will find his calling and be able to see it through for generations that follow.

'My Kilimanjaro'

Current wisdom in certain 'enlightened circles' says things are just as they should be, which I continually question and challenge when it comes to children, women, and those who needlessly and helplessly suffer at the hands of others through either confinement, culture, politics, condoned oppression in general, and laws that are either nonexistent to protect them or completely ignored when they do exist. That's it in a nutshell. Realizing this first hand the hard way has taken life in a direction previously unimaginable. I'll be doing this in one form or another for life; it would be a miracle to go away in my lifetime if I survive into old age, as what goes on in this country alone that gets kept out of the media is a life's work of itself.

The same principles that apply to a documentary movie such as Inside Job apply to all systems in this country today. Those of the other party demonize the current administration's inability to make much progress or allege worse. Those of the same party say it was sabotaged, bought, and paid for before the president took office, leaving him to function with one hand behind his back and hopping on one leg at best. The truth is it began long ago and has taken any moral or ethical model once claimed to one of all but complete non-credibility elsewhere on the globe. The country has sold out its own and created a culture so entrenched in the darkest forms of capitalism that there is a monetary value on every human life. People are defined by either their income, 'net worth', or status to be bought or sold in the marketplace.

There are slave trades and trafficking as well here almost no one hears about. The other forms of trafficking are abuses of law that keep people employed, such as children in the juvenile justice system who get or remain locked up to keep prisons open and their staffs working to the tune of over six figures per child per year when treatments appropriate for them cost a fraction of that.

Those in the system without a conscience keep an income by exploiting children and robbing them of their childhoods and futures from extended and inappropriate litigation so that the person who is either "worth" or pays more is permitted to control the process either outright or they are parroted by those who claim to represent children. Anything written down can be completely fabricated as on a child's behalf when the words were paid for by either questionable sources or unregulated misallocated yet claimed funding streams against both the child and any other family "worth less". A child's life can be placed in ongoing danger, 'sold' to the one with 'the most'. It happens every day somewhere in this country.

The work seems to have only just begun. This leaves similar practices in the rest of the world for others to take on, as many have. There are countries where women and other family members remain property. Without going into detail, which may be elsewhere in this blog, constitutionally people are still property in the U.S. or it's treated as such in practice. Day after day someone says they thought they were alone in their experience or what was happening as unthinkable was only happening to them. They are either isolated, unable to reach out for help, or have extended themselves as a last resort only to discover those in 'helping' positions can either only do so much or what they're in for could take years, if they survive.

That's the broad brushstroke. I've taken a position to record for others what no one told me when it may have helped more. It's become an enterprise that will be part of a legacy I've carried on from my grandfather and other inspirational family members of the past two generations. It's a purpose that's chosen, as all purposes are. Part of the mission is to let others know to pick a purpose sooner rather than later. It often comes from tragedy or the same of someone close to you, which seems to be the way of human nature. Those who have not faced death or the prospect of something close to it in one or more lifechanging moments often go about life letting it 'happen to them', as opposed to making life happen for themselves and others, all in a good way. Those without a voice that's heard as things are for them don't deserve life taken from them; giving them a voice is a purpose.

The next step is to exemplify this not only in daily life. To take a physical form outside of one person in many forms serves to provide symbolism, comfort, inspiration, tools, and ideas to those able to reach out and take action on behalf of themselves and others in forms limited only by their collective imaginations. In other words, to provide a platform for something limitless that grows exponentially into the next generation so that it may thrive can keep someone alive.

According to Inside Job, this generation is the first in history to have less than the one before with a fewer practical tools for building positive prosperous lives at their disposal despite what advances in technology continue to occur. Access has a price, too. Many take it for granted. They're not just the 1%; they're a big chunk of the 99% who aren't all bad, yet not all good either. That's common sense, which is also a gift that not everyone has. A person without a conscience or common sense can get far in the world with others' resources without looking back or caring who has been harmed by their actions; it's just all in a day's work for them. Many don't leave the planet happy or having known how to live other than taking from others, which isn't a life for a human. Parasites and cancer take life as well; it's not much different in the grand scheme of things.

To understand and appreciate good, many say evil will always exist somewhere. If it went away completely we will have created our own heaven. Unthinkable? Maybe not in my lifetime; maybe someday. Maybe because of something we did, collectively, by choice. To stand at the top of Kilimanjaro is not a goal for me; inspiring someone else to want to is imaginable. What they inspire others to do is limitless. Causing such a chain reaction is a legacy. Reversing the negative domino effect that exists today in such a way is the mountain for me. I'm grateful to still have the legs for it, now and for as far as they'll take me and those I can include.

Now

No more time; not getting any younger. Life is too short; the time is now. Age means nothing. Jerry Lewis was right about one thing: underneath it all, everyone is nine years old. No one looks different from anyone else any more, all that shows is how evolved each one is, by what they say or do. My child is an old soul, torn between two worlds. Still working out the complexities of our intertwined relationship and how it melds with our respective purposes. He doesn't know his yet, nor would I. My purpose is to allow others to see they can choose much 'earlier' than I did. When my son is ready, he will either decide for himself or ask for guidance. I must continue either way; part of the reason for going on is my child, the rest are important as well, and will be included as they wish. I'm to simply be out and accessible, doing more than talking, accomplishing more than influencing. The latter will come with the former.

Better at picking battles, wishing there were none to decide between. Though that wouldn't be life on earth as we know it otherwise. The contrast creates the distinction between why there's so much effort and the potential rewards. Every single moment involves a choice. Like the wings of a butterfly against a breeze or flowing with the air currents. Sometimes it's all just timing, or so it would seem. Action, keep going, persist, don't stop. Keep breathing; 'the ability to take a deep breath' is checking into the moment of place, in touch with what is to be done, in the right place at the right time. Live well, choose, go, and be. In honor of one legacy, the one being created is only visible through what comes later, through actions and choices as small as the beating of butterfly wings from one moment to the next, until they all add up, and the mark in time is what remains.