Well, the mountains have chosen the colors for their new “Spring Collection”; the whole world seems to be blue, grey, brown, green, yellow and white. The rare splash of red or orange that I see on signs here and there seems to clash like plaid with stripes. The trees are just beginning to bud, but most of them look bare from any distance. Lawns and hills are still dusty light brown, and the occasional patch of jonquils looks like a child in an old folks’ home.
Hope “springs” eternal.

I woke up this morning wishing I could be someone else for one day, just for today. To be outside of my own body and head – take a vacation from being me. I’m tired of my thoughts and feelings, not permanently, I do love being me, but I feel like a mother who truly loves her children, but just needs for someone else to take them for one day.

I saw the film “Kundun” last night, it is the story of the life of the 14th (and current) Dalai Lama, and of the attempted destruction and persecution of the Tibetan peoples and their religion that began with the reign of Mao Tse Tung and continues even now. It is a beautiful film. I’d cut a picture from a magazine many years ago and pasted it into my wish book - a piercingly beautiful photo of monks crossing a shallow river on stones. I did not know that it was a photo still from this film until last night, and by the time this scene appeared, this director, the crew, the writer of the musical score, the actors and the story owned my heart. This man is real, and the Tibetan people believe that he is the incarnation of the Buddha. Whether this is true or not, it is plain that the man has a deep love for all things. He was told when he was a child that that was his job – to love all things with all his heart. The film both clearly and delicately portrays the pain this man feels on hearing of the gruesome deaths and tortures of his peace-loving people. It seems there are only a few people (Mother Theresa immediately comes to mind) who are able to feel and care for the pain of the whole world, and my heart aches in a faint echo of feeling for their strength and grace.
Most of us are unable to accept and process even our own pain and troubles, we are forced to try to separate ourselves from the problems of our neighbors and the people we see on the news. What does it take to be as strong as these people who have dedicated themselves to light and love? Just the knowledge that we must? That it is our duty?
We must. It is.
Please remind me when I forget.
I love you all.
-s

This is sort of a continuation of the Wednesday, Feb. 26th rant on wanting and trying to make life as pleasant as possible.

As you all know, I’ve had vehicle troubles lately – which, of course, means I’ve had money troubles. (who doesn’t?:)
I was without my truck for 3 weeks, and then I had it back TWO DAYS and it wouldn’t start. Hhhaaaaah. I called the mechanic (nice guys, really – this new problem was NOT their fault) and they helped me to ascertain (in a very respectable, non-“we are talking to a dingy broad” way) that it was probably my starter.
I knew my landlord was on the way to pick up the rent, so I figured I’d ask him for a jump, to be sure it wasn’t just the battery.
(For those of you who don’t know, I have a really wonderful little house. It’s my landlords’ parents’ old home, and I love it. It’s in a big, pretty wooded yard with fruit trees and vines, two bedrooms, a great porch, nice fire pit in the back, and my rent is so obscenely low that if I were to say what it was here, blocked internet systems wouldn’t be able to show this rant.)
Not only did my landlord try to jumpstart my truck, but when it didn’t work, he took the battery out for me, drove me to the parts place to have it checked, gave me back 100$ of my rent so that I could buy a new starter, took me to visit his brother (who used to be my neighbor, but is now in an assisted living place) and took me out to a nice lunch.

I’ve been living here a while. Nearly six years, I think, and when I first moved here I didn’t know a soul. A lot of people would – and some people have – tried to take advantage of the fact that I have no father/brother/uncle/granddad/hubby to come to my aid in rough times. But Grover and his family have treated me like a family member since day one. I think there are a lot of reasons why – they are good, old fashioned Christian people. There are some old fashioned people and some Christian people who would still only do what they HAD to do, and not think twice of it. As nice as Grover is, I wouldn’t have expected him to go so far out of his way to help me. My rent is REALLY low. He could have wished me luck and gone on his way and neither of us thought a thing about it. But he didn’t, and I think the reason is a combination of all those things – good, old fashioned, Christian, and southern. He grew up* in a time and place where it was better to have a little less than you might have so that you don’t have to see a neighbor or friend do without. He didn’t help me (or keep my rent low, or give me a nice gift every Christmas**, etc…) because he’s trying to earn a better place in heaven, or to gain anything from me. He did it because That’s Just How You Do Things. And he knows that I understand that and try to live that way, too.
I realize that a LOT of people have made their fortunes by being able to hoard and have much while people around them go without. I’d like to be rich, but I don’t think I’d be very good at it.
Even when I am sad and hurting, I am always aware that I am truly blessed. I can’t imagine how bad the pain and sadness would be if it weren’t for all the wonderful, generous, loving, funny people I have in my life. I hope I have a chance to return it all, to pass it on, to keep it going.
I hope that you are all equally blessed, and that you have many chances to pass it on.
-s

*And I was raised by grandparents and aunts who grew up that way, too.
**Usually food. (Woo-hoo!) Home made jams and jellies, and fig preserves, last year!
Mmmmm! I am a honey-bear, y’all!

someone called ‘just little me’ wrote something very dear in my guest book. i’m so sad to say that i am just jaded and paranoid enough to wonder (and optimistic enough to hope) that they are what they say they are, because their post really touched my heart.
i have a guess as to who this mystery-person is, but of course my natural curiosity WANTS TO KNOW. (Please write to me, samarei7@yahoo.com, and tell me who you are… 'sounds like we could both use someone else to talk to.)

i hope i made it clear that i have a LOT of people that i could talk to, but it’s just so hard for me to do it. i can say some things to anybody, but there are certain things that i cannot say at all… i am trying.
it means the world to me that this anonymous person would reach out like this. it seems as if this person is either a very good judge of character, or is a lot like me*, because they are definitely speaking to my heart.

whoever you are, i hope that what you are going through is bearable, and that the hard part – the hurt – will help you to grow in good ways, make you stronger… thank you for saying what you’ve said. to know that what I’ve been through, what i still go through, and my need to talk and write and draw about it helps to give you hope means the whole wide world to me. i strive to be a candle in my own darkness, and a light for others too. That seems to make it all – whatever it is – worthwhile.
if you ever want to talk, or just hang out and enjoy the light part of life sometime, you know where to find me, obviously. :)
thank you. be a candle.
-s

*and if you are whom i suspect, it think it must be both of these. (f.c., s.b.f.o.E.d.)