October began yesterday, and I, like you, wonder just how much
faster time can travel. I do look forward to this month of Halloween, autumn
leaves and ripe citrus on the trees but I am a bit concerned about how
quickly it all happens. I feel like I was just planting zinnias.
The cloudy sky hid the rising Harvest Moon Saturday night. This is
something that makes me a bit sad – it only happens once a year and, like Sally
telling Linus, “I missed it!”
I wanted to post something this morning – there is something about early
mornings that make me reflective and “writerly”. I can so easily go right to
ranting and that is a faux pas with my goals for this blog so then I jump to
nature and what is happening with her but then I look deeper and go into my
real thoughts – thoughts brought on by October, time, and nature, and decide to
tap out a few lines about that confusion of contemplations.
It seems each time I turn
the page into a new month, I take a look back, sometimes way back and sometimes
just a bit back. This makes me realize that things in our heads seem better
than things in real time. It’s funny how we can shuffle through the muck of our
yesterdays and just allow the good stuff to rise, discarding those
unpleasantries and discomforts and all those "problems" we had. I feel certain my memories of late Octobers of
childhood are far better than the actual time. I love thinking about it though –
it is as it should be, these places from yesterday that warm our todays, that wrap
their arms around you and make you feel good – what could be wrong there and
why do I need to be reminded of those nasty spots in my life anyway – I got the
lesson and moved on - done.
I write a lot about
memories, I suppose it looks as though I live in the past but I really do not, I
reflect on the past, a lot. It is somewhat of a guide book for me, it is a “learn
by example”.It is a gift from people like my parents that keeps on giving. I was blessed with many great teachers in my life – I am not
referring to the classroom sort – and those teachers are alive and dwell inside
of my head, teaching. I also realize the importance of what I do and how I handle
situations in my life because somebody is watching and someone will remember. Our
history is a very valuable tool, perhaps our most valuable. There is no way to
know what is ahead, so I do look behind and try to prepare, all the while
knowing somebody is “watching” and I too, will one day be the “teacher” in
someone’s head.
Don't worry that
children never listen to you; worry that they are always watching you.
Robert Fulghum
b u
p s
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