1/5/2015 1 Comment Getting to DoneGetting to done. Getting it done. Done. What have you done? I'm done. Dinner is done. Done and done. Last night I woke up in the middle of the night and while I was trying to get back to sleep, I started thinking about the word "done". What does it mean to be done? Is it to be finished, over with, past it and moving on? 2014 is done. Can't go back, can't change a thing...other than what we think about it. But 2015 is different. Its not anywhere near done. It is just beginning. So there you have it. A new beginning. So we have about 360 days left to get 2015 done, to get it done, to be done with it. What does that mean? Well, it really means it is all about the process. It is the here and the now. As we go along we have to realize that it is really never done. It is always in flux, morphing, changing, moving forward lest it stagnate and die. But isn't it the process we need to live in? Is getting to done really a satisfying goal? Imagine thinking these thoughts as you lay in bed at 4am? The dogs didn't care. They just rolled ove and went back to sleep. I think that is what I admire about these critters. They are done with the hullabaloo of life and sleeping peacefully. As long as they are fed and have shelter, get walked and petted, they are just fine. And when you think of it, isn't that what we all want? And if we get it, are we done? I don't know, but for now, I am......done.
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Today was one of those days that catches you up short. It started out with laundry and breakfast and walking the dogs, quite ordinary. Then it was about quarter after eleven and I realized I needed to get showered and shaved and on my way to Fallbrook...about an hour's drive south from here for a memorial service for a the mother of a good friend. And, dang, if I didn't remember I was short on gas in the car and nearly run out on the way. Anyway, I arrived about ten minutes late, afraid I missed something. I did. The memorial candles had been lit, the proceeds had begun. And I have to say, this was an amazing service...a real celebration of life. I didn't know the woman who passed away, but I do know her son and daughter-in-law. I went because I wanted to be there for them. But, amazingly, I came away glad for me, my myself, for having gone. It was a peek inside a family where love and respect is king. I found myself envying them. And it was the first time in a while that I didn't find myself wondering about my own funeral, about whether anyone would come. No, I didn't think about that at all. I just found myself meditating on what love is, what family is, what it means to live a full, satisfying life. I found it this afternoon at this sharing of memories and family that love can get you through most anything. There is nothing like the true love of a spouse, a parent, a grandparent, a friend. It was truly lovely to see it manifest in what was a life well lived. I am inspired to think that someday the same will be said of us all. I was just texting with a friend in Redlands. It is one of his preferred modes of communication. He was concerned that someone he had been trying to contact had not returned his contact. Not sure how he tried to contact him. Perhaps texting first, then email, then telephone. Maybe next would have to be US Mail, or Carrier Pigeon, or maybe smoke signals. At last resort might be getting in the car and driving the twenty miles to Riverside. Depends on how important it is. Depends on whether the "contactee" event wants to be in contact with the "contactor." There are so many ways to contact folks these days. Let's not forget Facebook and Facebook Messenger, Twitter and Instagram. You can even shoot a Youtube video and post it. Ultimately I guess it just depends on how plugged in you want to be. Legend has it the Native Americans would put there ear to the ground to "hear" if intruders or a herd of buffaloes was nearby. I to wonder if smoke signals were really a legend or if they really worked. Originally man carved messages in stone. Then drew pictographs on cave walls and rocks. Papyrus came along with ink and such. The pencil, the pen, the typewriter...all advances in communications. And still it is difficult to communicate. As with my Redlands friend, one had to determine what the preferred mode of communication is of the person with whom you wish to make contact. I like email and Facebook, but texting is also fast and convenient. Telephoning is more personal, definitely immediate, if you are lucky enough to have the "contactee" answer your call. But there are those who don't answer their phone, ever, and only check voicemail. Some folks don't have smart phones so they don't text or email. Some don't have computer access. This makes sending out a wide-broadcast message very difficult. You could place a message in the classifieds of the newspaper, but who reads those any more? Not as many people even get a paper any more! I guess you could describe me as plugged in. I enjoy reading Facebook and "liking", and posting fun stuff, and commenting. It is just fun! Texting is a good way to get me. Email second. But as I write this, I have to say getting a letter in the mail, handwritten, from a friend or loved one, is a special thrill. Taking the time to sit down and write, address and send a message is just so very special, and, I am afraid, a dying art. They don't even teach cursive script in a lot of schools any more. So I wonder. Are you plugged in? Are to online and digital too much or perhaps, not enough? I know it is a matter of personal preference. I do not criticize anyone for using any favored communication tool too much or too little. I'm just saying it is just evidence of how complicate modern life and talking to each other has become. And I do have to say that being plugged in ALL the time has its downside. Sometimes the tether chafes and it is then one needs to unplug. The key is to remember one does have a choice. And also important is letting folks know what your preferred method of communication is. Of course when communication styles don't match, your run the risk of a communication gap. Ah, the human condition evolves and devolves and cycles and recycles. And yet we still muddle through it all... I'm not sure if it was my grandmother or some other sage of my early years that used to say, "Be careful what you do on the first day of the year. You will most likely end up doing a lot of it in the year ahead." I remember taking that very seriously at one time. I'd be careful not to do things like clean house, laundry, and other intangible things like grousing, complaining and saying yes when I want to say no. Funny how I seem to have forgotten what might seem to be superstition, but nonetheless, rang true. Most New Year's Days I get up and fix a nice breakfast for myself and my animal companions. Together we watch the Rose Parade on Channel 5 uninterrupted by commercials and narrated by local Rose Parade legends Bob Eubanks and Stephanie Edwards. It wouldn't be the same without them at the helm. One year they tried to change it up, putting Stephanie out of the main booth and down on the street. That was the year it rained on the parade. 2006. The last time it had rained on the parade was 1955. Poor Stephanie looked pitiful, her hair wet, mascara running. There was such an outpouring of outrage over her treatment, the next year she was back with old Bob where she belonged. Don't mess with tradition. But I digress. As I was saying, after a nice breakfast and the parade, I take the dogs for a nice long walk and then set my intentions for the rest of the day...maybe the rest of the year. No, I don't make resolutions, I just kind of evaluate what's been working and what hasn't and prepare to make adjustments. So even though today I did tidy up after a little party last night, I didn't over do it. Just enough to feel comfortable in my little part of the world. And I do. Feel comforable, that is. Comfortable enough that I am sitting here, writing a blog, the first since last September (!) and setting my intention to do it regularly in the new year. It is, I am reminded, a matter of priorities: mine versus others. And the priorites of others are not always mine. I need to remember that. Saying yes when I want to say no. No. Resoundingly and emphanitcally, NO, without regret or guilt. That is just being honest, being true and doing what I want to be doing all year. Doing, in fact, what I feel called to do the rest of my days. So there it is, folks. It is time. The blog is back. Time to pick up the journey once again. The journey begins with the first step, the decision to go forward and see what's next. This is it. Here is a quote I find is attributed to many sources*, but, nonetheless, is I believe to be true: "Life is not a dress rehearsal." Carl Rogers said, "The good life is a process, not a state of being. It is a direction not a destination." Let's make it a happy New Year. Let's process and find our direction. That is my intention for 2015. *http://quoteinvestigator.com/2013/06/01/life-rehearsal/ |
Rob McMurray,
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