It Clears the Brain

 

I post whatever comes to mind. One day, I might rant about Political Conditions, the next, something motivational. If I can throw something spiritual into the mix, it tickles my cockles.

Internet advice tells me that I ought to have a recognizable brand and stick with it. I think Wish on White Horses ought to be one. Like go through life, do your thing, sell, buy, write, rant, complain, do your work, be inspired, be lazy, and then stop when you see a white horse, take a breather, and make a wish.

It will clear the brain.

I talk about many things on my wish blog, as well as other blogs, including The Best Damn Writers Blog on The Block (I’m the only one).  Don’t wait for a white horse to give you permission to wish, to dream. But take advantage of one when you see it—and maybe take a drive in the country, where it might open up your possibilities. Seeing a white horse can be like a speed bump (but more fun). It will tell you to slow down and make a wish. Have a dream. Believe in magic again.

GaryVee (Gary Vaynerchuk) said to post whatever floats your boat—actually, he didn’t use those words, but he did say to post random stuff. Post and keep posting. What are you interested in? He believes even a Smurf blog will take hold after a year or so.

I appreciate all the people who have found my blog, and I am interested in what bloats your boat, so tell me about it.

I’m interested in Horses, Houses, how-to books, People, Animals, the Planet, Inspirational stuff, and feel compelled to throw a few words toward what’s happening in the world today. I feel that my days, months, and years are limited, and what the heck am I here for except to make my voice heard?  Folks, don’t give away your country to a dictator. Remember that we are freedom-loving individuals.  

I have grown increasingly impatient with sites that go blithely on rattling about mundane things. I fear I’m getting crotchety. These are critical times, with important issues. And get off letting AI do the work for you. For crying out loud, AI writes entire books for people, makes their Table of contents, and their cover. What the F* do we have a creative spark for it not to use?

And you writers spend years writing a book. I commend you.

GaryVee recently gave his Secret of Life on Instagram.  "It is having a detachment from bullshit, and a deep attachment to love.”

Recently, I read about a Snowshoe rabbit. A naturalist took a couple of friends out, said there was something in the bushes, and told them to wait. Soon they saw a white Snowshoe rabbit, a rarity in those parts. when he saw them, the rabbit stood stock still. It was winter. He was white. He expected to be camouflaged by snow, but there was none. He was standing exposed on the brown ground expecting his camouflage to save him—a sitting duck for hawks.

The winters are shorter than in the past, but the rabbit still has his instincts, which evolved over decades when he lived in a white winter, and he learned to stand still and think he would not be seen.

How can we not speak up?

 Look at that hind foot, some snowshoe!

Bye for now, come on over and see me sometime.

 

Wednesday

 

When I say I want the magic back, I mean the little things that, if we are aware, we see almost daily.

 

This morning, I sat in the shower thinking of such things. Once while driving west in Eugene, Oregon, I looked in my rear view mirror and saw a rainbow brilliantly displayed in the rain splattered eastern sky. In front of that rainbow, like the movie intro of E.T. riding his bike in front of the moon, a small flock of white birds flew past, illuminated by the setting sun.

 

It was so exquisite I wanted to turn around, but I managed to tear my eyes away from the scene and continue down the road.  

 

I look into the sky and see a 250-ton piece of metal —a heavier-than-air vehicle —carrying I don't know how many people, pushed through the air by jet engines the size of whisky barrels.

 

 Impossible.

 

Once daughter dear and I sat in a booth by a window at a beloved Mexican Restaurant in Rancho Santa Fe, California. As we joyfully dipped our chips in guacamole, we lightly discussed whether it was possible to manifest. "Well,' I said," we couldn't manifest a train here for there are no tracks."

 

Not a minute later, a large semi—one of those trucks whose who’s back trailer is covered by a tightly stretched tarp, stopped at a stop light outside our window.

 

Printed on the tarp was one word: "Trane."  (A technology company.)

 

We laughed, and often remind ourselves that miracles happen, and that the Universe likes to play tricks.

 

I sometimes lose the lightness and I want it back.

 

I missed Tuesday's blog yesterday, too, so I am writing to you today. I did read something profound yesterday, though. It was from Martha Beck:

 

"The simultaneous destruction and creation of an individual can be compared to the moment of awakening. This isn't just about learning something new; it's about a fundamental, radical shift in human consciousness.

 

"Awakening is the transformation of that same caterpillar into an altogether different creature—one that can fly."—Martha Beck.

 

You have heard that the caterpillar's metamorphosis into a butterfly isn't a simple change; it's a complete breakdown. That poor caterpillar liquefies, but what emerges is a gorgeous butterfly.

 

 I have read that if you are watching the butterfly struggle to emerge from its chrysalis and feel inclined to help, don't. It kills the butterfly. The butterfly must go through the struggle—like us being born—it rests for a few moments, allowing its wings to dry, and then it soars.

 

"When a human being awakens," to quote Beck," the 'caterpillar' we leave behind is the part that fears, suffers, attacks others, grabs for power, wealth, and status, and lives in terror of its own destruction. 

 

"The 'butterfly' we become is at peace with both life and death, confident that the universe will provide for us, open to brilliant creative ideas that may pull us out of the mess we've created."

 

Thanks, Martha.