view from my rock Posted by Hello

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Ghost writing

So last week I had the privilege of being in the enchanting realm of the mouse.  While my Seattle friends were suffering  through some particularly frigid temperatures, I was tagging along with my wife at her conference in the wonderful world of Disney.  It's a tough life, but occasionally I can bear the burden.  Anyway, it afforded me the opportunity to take part in some very insightful and sometimes inspirational people watching.... Sometimes not so inspirational. One of the sadder trends that I've observed over the years is one facilitated by the tsunami of social media.  In a place that almost screams presence, many are not at all...present I mean.  In their desire to be connected to their circles, they become disconnected to their surroundings.  I often wonder how they are tweeting and facebooking the experiences that they are not actually taking part in.  This year, in particular, I was witness to, in my opinion, a great casualty of living your life online.  This event t
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foreground

The metro is blocking my view this morning. At least it’s blocking some of it. I can’t see the beach, the waves or the gulls. I can’t see the skyline or the mountains for that matter. Lot’s of windows here filled by a hulking, hideous, green and yellow, diesel , double length, people mover idling at the curb. It blocks one view, however it does enhance another. I have to focus on the foreground this morning. I have to look at what is right in front of me for a change. I’m usually not very good at that. It’s ironic because one of my motivations for starting this Monday morning Starbucks routine was so that I would stop for awhile and focus on what is right in front of me. When the background is removed from my view I’m forced to look at the foreground. I have no doubt that I was created more for the foreground than the background. I just prefer the other. Out there I can dream. I can imagine. I can plot and I can scheme. I can envision what is out there and how I can ge
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blame

Ok, so I’m not a writer. At least by writer’s standards that have been thrust upon me. It wasn’t even a valiant effort. I did get to attend a new writers group this past week. That should count for something. And the teaching for my community o’ faith was much more of a literary work than the usual offering. They were just coincidences though, merely anomalies within an otherwise lame effort. I could blame it on practically anything. This has been an unusually draining few weeks with one more to go. However, my feeling is that if a challenge can be conquered against intimidating odds, then it can be conquered anytime. I’m not sure of the wisdom here, but I’ll not whine “It’s not my fault”. It is what it is. Time to regroup and reevaluate, I don’t have time for blame. Life is too short. Get over it and move on. Try again. Take another angle. Those are all preferable to me over “It’s not my fault”. Why is it always about fault anyway? I can’t tell you how many I encoun
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