It's Friday the 13th. The day of triskaidekaphobia, fear of Friday the 13th. Just think:
Okay, so maybe there is some spurious evidence that Friday the 13th is unlucky. But when you just look at it realistically, it is just another day. It is what it is, a day a of the week with a number attached...both a part of a man-made system of numbers and calendars. Believe what you will, but, know, as I have come to know, it's all in our way of looking at things. And, hey, I just wrote this blog about not writing et al, so I guess I really believed I could all along! See what I mean?
It's your lucky day.
Having a great time. Wish you were here!
Well, if I'm to be honest, I having a nice time, but, no, I don't wish you were here. Not this time. No offense, but sometimes it's nice to just get away and be by myself.
Santa Barbara is beautiful and I'm fortunate enough to occasionally house/dog sit for some good friends who travel a lot. The house is lovely, quiet, tucked away in a private, gated community on the edge of the Hope Ranch. The dog is George, a bulldog, who has a personality that fills the room and demands attention. He is lovable to a fault while also being a bit stubborn. But your heart melts when you look into those eyes.
Anyway, today I went to the Santa Barbara Botanical Gardens. I highly recommend going. They have revived the meadows and they are in the height of their bloom right now with California and matilija poppies, a wild variety of wildflowers, bunchgrasses, herbs, succulent lupine and many many more. It is a feast for the eyes and a fiesta for the soul. You can click here to learn more and see a short video.
After that, I drove around a bit to refresh my memory of the Mission Santa Barbara and the Santa Barbara Courthouse. They are still exquisite. Today they seemed to be teeming with tourists, to I did not stop. But just driving around a bit is practically meditative. Even a trip to Trader Joe's is fun encountering the locals. I actually met someone I had just seen working at the botanical gardens. Small town feel.
Anyway, tomorrow I start my trek back home to Riverside. Its been time away which I always treasure. I forget sometimes I like to travel. I especially like road trips. And I don't mind doing them alone. That's when a guy can get some deep thinking done and maybe return with a new perspective and things.
Oh, and next time, maybe I will wish you were here. And maybe you will be.
Note: This is another rerun from one of my old blogs. This was published on May 3, 2009. I am away for a few days and so far things have not brought much to blog about. Well, actually, they have. I'm just not ready to write them. Maybe that's why this blog spoke to me...again.
Having an open heart is actually quite a responsibility. By keeping your heart open, 24/7, as the sign implies, you run the risk of it getting broken. An open heart leaves you vulnerable to being hurt or taken advantage of. Yet I seem to always come to the conclusion that it is always worth the risk. After all, a heart of stone is worse than no heart at all.
"I would rather have eyes that cannot see; ears that cannot hear; lips that cannot speak, than a heart that cannot love." --Robert Tizon.
That, my friend, is where I find myself. My heart is open. Sometimes I run the risk of taking on things that are more than I care to. Sometimes I may love blindly, love silently and not speak love's name, but ultimately the councilation is that I indeed do love.
"And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love." 1 Corinthians 13:13
You can have faith in love, in its power, its magic, its healing powers. You can have hope of love, that it will come, that love will indeed be yours. But the greatest of these three things, faith, hope and love, is indeed love, for without love, what are we? Love makes faith real and hope a reality.
I am keeping this old ticker open for as long as it keeps me alive. And if I am lucky, the love I experience will go on long after I am gone.
"Near, far, where ever you are. I believe that the heart does go on." -- Titanic 1997