Memory

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b2njHW9ydWs

We give names to fill  the empty void, feeling unsettled with our inability to name that which we don't understand. We create words to describe that vague unsettled feeling, we call it serendipity, coincidence, chance, luck, God, spirits, angels. The names are endless to combat the uncomfortable not-knowing.

We all search, it is our nature it is our destiny, to attempt to name the unknowable. I call it memory.  Before my great-great-great grandparents were born I existed, the wheel of fortune had already begun before my distant ancestors scraped by on their knuckles.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b2njHW9ydWsWith each generation when they were no more when even the dust that was once their bones was no more they passed on something to each successive generation, they passed on their memories. Our DNA, RNA, our molecules, the air is heavy with the collective knowledge of all memories.

When I feel love, anger, sadness, the past has woken, passing down learned lessons. The past creates signposts in the confusing landscape mapping out and bringing to light paths and roads.

Stored in my memory banks is the knowledge that those who will come in the future will need. I am just a memory like those before and those after me.

Easter, Sister Mary-Elizabeth, Noah the Ark and raisin bread filled with threats.

I was made to go to Sunday school. As you can imagine I was a bit of trouble maker Sister Mary-Elizabeth did not like the fact that I was always asking why?


Why did he part the sea? Why didn't he just build some boats? Why can we only eat fish on Good Friday? Why is it called Good Friday?

Imagine Sister Mary Elizabeth's delight when she told us the story of Noah and the Ark and I applauded (she did a great job narrating that story)

Her eyes narrowed she was waiting for me to start with the Whys?

I had no why! Noah rocked! He got two of each animal! He was a real cupid? The ultimate matchmaker. Sister Mary Elizabeth informed my mother that as usual I was not grasping Catholic dogma. What is dogma? My mother gave me the look. I zipped my lip.

Back to Noah, I understood Noah, here was a man with a plan, a plan to ensure that even animals not feel alone! Noah was my hero! I wanted more info on Noah how did he tend to the animals, did the animals fall in love with each other, did they make babies? Imagine the look on my poor mother's face as I ask her all these questions while standing at the bakery line for our raisin bread. My mother hissed at me that if I didn't stop with the question no raisin bread for me.

Wow I had crossed a line no raisin bread, that threat had never been issued even when I committed the ultimate faux pas regarding the ash on the forehead by telling my mom that we were going to be murdered because we were marked with a sign.

Come to think of it I wonder how my mom managed to stay looking so young for so long with me as her daughter but I digress.

Back to Noah, I love G+ and social media because it gives me an opportunity to meet and interact with other brilliant individuals and create daily stories.

And lately I have been kicking around the idea of finding a partner in crime to write a story. Now if only Noah could just hook me up with my writing counterpart.

P.S. I am not religious, if you are religious that is AWESOME  but PLEASE KEEP IT TO YOURSELFF

P.P.S if you are also looking for another half to write something funny, witty entertaining drop me a line.

Ciao until next time.

Who owns me?

Sometimes a thought gets a hold of me and it burrows in my brain like the little hermit crabs on the beach.

I don't know when the idea first appeared, or how it became stuck. But I wonder who owns me?

I know I am free to make decisions, I make choices all day long, but when I stop to think of those choices none of them are completely free of external forces and entanglements. Time is my slave master and pimp.

Work is the judge on quality and output.

How is my value determined? If I say enough does that mean I am free to do within (legal) limits as I wish?

How do I know my real: desires, wishes, hopes, dreams independent of society?

Thank goodness my sister can't spell to save her life

Reading an email, text or web post by my sister usually involves a few false starts, squinting, silently sounding out the word  and looking at the entire sentence to understand what message she is trying to convey. I can honestly say that when my sister sends me a text I normally have to call her back just to ask her what the hell she meant.

Here is a perfect example of one of my sisters most repeated and frequent typo: in joy = enjoy. It took me a while to figure she meant enjoy and every time I corrected the typo. Every time I corrected the typo she responded "u know what I meant"

And I always answer back "yeah but it took me a while."

But today I started to think about it what if she really means in joy? Some how in joy sounds better than enjoy. In joy sounds like all kinds of marvelous wonderful things. All of a sudden I to wanted to "in joy" I was tempted to even ask her how I could go accomplish the in joy task.

Then I realized my sister was already in joy and if I had come to understand in joy I was half way to understanding its vague yet delicious meaning.

Granted I have no right to correct any one's spelling, I have more red underlined words than average. But now I am beginning to wonder when can a misspelled word become something greater?

http://www.thejoyhouse.com/LOGO%20Give%20Joy%20Get%20Joy.JPG