Life at 3 miles an Hour

Everyone wants a voice. At least everyone wants to be heard in some way. It may not be audibly. It may be visual. You could argue, I suppose, that visually means that they want to be seen. I don’t think so. I think that they really want to be heard and if seen equals heard for them, then that’s just fine by them. You may not agree, but this is my blog so I get to be heard at the moment. If you want to be heard then you could always respond. I simply mean that people want to know that they’ve had influence or that they’ve been recognized for a contribution that may last beyond their natural lives or at least beyond their immediate circle. Visual artists want to be heard. They have a message. They want their work to communicate it. They want you to listen. Writers obviously want to be heard. Teachers want to be heard in order to convey a lesson. Lawyers want to be heard to convey truth, …or not. People who have bumper stickers want to be heard. They want their views and ideologies known.

Everyone wants a voice. At least everyone wants to be heard in some way. It may not be audibly. It may be visual. You could argue, I suppose, that visually means that they want to be seen. I don’t think so. I think that they really want to be heard and if seen equals heard for them, then that’s just fine by them. You may not agree, but this is my blog so I get to be heard at the moment. If you want to be heard then you could always respond. I simply mean that people want to know that they’ve had influence or that they’ve been recognized for a contribution that may last beyond their natural lives or at least beyond their immediate circle. Visual artists want to be heard. They have a message. They want their work to communicate it. They want you to listen. Writers obviously want to be heard. Teachers want to be heard in order to convey a lesson. Lawyers want to be heard to convey truth, …or not. People who have bumper stickers want to be heard. They want their views and ideologies known.

The leaves are beginning to change. To be sure it’s the early stages here, but they’re changing nonetheless. I’m gauging it by the tree across the corner from my new caffeine port. A maple tree, nicely trimmed from beneath to politely allow pedestrian passage, begins on it’s lower reaches in a summer emerald tone. As it progresses towards it’s ultimate upward reach though it begins to tan slightly through the middle. The uppermost branches are a bit of burgundy, finally yielding to a Fall orange as the tips are reached. It’s early Fall here. Most are probably not even recognizing the subtle shift. I do. I’m not from here. I mean I am, but my memories of Fall still move me back to earlier days in Upstate New York and the unbelievable blanket of color that has already unfolded by this time. It takes about a week longer here in the Northwest and the coloring doesn’t compare and it’s probably the only time now that I still feel as a foreigner. I think that this is probably be

I’m sure that I ought to know better. I’ve told others this before. I’ve taught about it. It’s gone through my ears but not stuck in my head. I’m talking about planning. I should have known not to begin planning out how my life was going to go so far in advance. Actually it was going, sort of, according to plan just the other day. Then came Monday, just like all of the other proverbial Monday’s that we deal with and Monday did its Monday thing and decimated all of my plans. Actually I shouldn’t sound so selfish, because it took a lot of lives with it. Within the scope of just hardly any time at all, the plans that I had laid out before God for His blessing were totally altered. Personal, professional, physical, financial, social, you name it. It was all altered. I guess that I should know better knowing who it is that really controls my life and destiny. Why am I shocked when I lay my plans before someone who wonders “why do you say today or tomorrow we will go here or ther

You may have heard the phrase “familiarity breeds contempt”. I’ve not really been all the sure about what that really looks like in real life. I think that it means that the more familiar you are with a situation, the more you take it for granted and the less you dwell on certain possible consequences. We’ve all been reminded of this with the passing of “The Crocodile Hunter”. It could be said that he died doing what he loved. I’m not an expert and have no great insight into the circumstances, but it has caused me to pause and wonder if some people don’t die because they are doing what they love. What I mean is, because they are pursuing a life long passion that has become second nature to them, their guard is down and danger happens. Statistics show that an abnormally large percentage of auto accidents occur relatively close to home. Many serious injury accidents occur in the mundane routine parts of everyday life. We may try to keep to the familiar to feel safe, but the para