My parents tell me that when I was a baby I used to cry whenever I heard sirens or other loud noises like the vacuum cleaner.
These days I don’t cry when I hear either one but there are moments where they have a stronger affect upon me than others.
It usually depends on what the reason for the siren is and how conscious I am of my surroundings.
For example when I was 16 forest fires forced the evacuation of the camp I was staying at. We were lucky that no one was hurt and I attribute some of that to the three or four drills we conducted prior to the real thing.
I guess the camp director and administration had enough knowledge and foresight to be aware that there was a reasonable chance that the fire would force our evacuation and wanted to make sure we were prepared.
Thirty years later anytime I feel a hot wind blowing through the mountains I look upwards and check the skyline. Sometimes just the smell of wood burning brings it back to me
Other sirens like Remembrance Day in Israel have a different sort of impact upon me, where the sirens get me thinking but in a very different way.
What Does Any Of This Mean?
I don’t know if there is any meaning or substance in any of it.
I am just doing what I love to do…write.
Almost time to work on more material for TheJackB.
It is my 11th blogiversary and I am trying to decide what sort of post to write for/about it. Don’t really know if there needs to be anything like it, but then again maybe there should be.
Not many bloggers make it this far, it probably won’t hurt to put something up at TheJackB.
Guess I’ll see what I can come up with.
I try to disconnect from the blogosphere on the weekends but I don’t do a very good job of it.
I try to disconnect from the crap that bothers me during the week so that my weekends are less stressful but I don’t do a very good job of it.
Sometimes I wonder if there is a disconnect between me and people because there are so many moments where I discover I look at things differently than others.
I rarely care about the disconnect, assuming it exists because I don’t want or need to be like everyone else.
I should disconnect now so I can get some real sleep but I didn’t disconnect from the concerns of the week and that has me and sleep at odds.
Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever win a million dollars playing the lottery, especially when I almost never play. Certainly that is a different sort of disconnect.
If I ever win enough cash I’ll most assuredly disconnect from the working world…for a while.
There is a disconnect between those who want to give a billion dollars away and me. Ok, I am not a charity and I would prefer to pay all of my bills on my own, but if I said I wouldn’t be excited about winning, inheriting or finding a million bucks there would be a disconnect between reality and I. :)
And now I am going to disconnect here so I can go write for TheJackB.
Today has been the day for dealing with people who are inconsistent and those who are inconsiderate. Silence doesn’t mean acceptance. Sometimes it means I am done with you and sometimes it means I am looking for an axe to cut off your head with, or at least dreaming about it. :)
Got an idea for a story set between heartbreak and hope. One where you share what people say and write what you heard.
Could be an interesting piece because when you explore the alleys between doing what you think is right and following your heart you can find yourself in all sorts of interesting places.
Sometimes no means no and sometimes it means yes, but not right now.
Some people would call that complicated or a game but others might say it is just what happens when circumstances get screwy.
As for me, well I say it is fodder for a good story. Some people say love isn’t enough and others say it is the force that fuels planets
Some people say love isn’t enough and others say it is the force that fuels planets. I say if you have never loved someone to the point of feeling crazed when you aren’t close you don’t really know what it is.
There is this crazy seesaw that you ride and sometimes the best you can hope for is a little time and distance so that you aren’t consumed by it.
But then again if you must be consumed it is quite the way to go.
Call it a story to write later, the place between heartbreak and hope.
Some of my favorite moments come from Sundays with people who mean the most to me.
ELO is singing Can’t Get It Out of My Head and I am thinking about the past three weeks and how challenging they have been.
Been wondering how I ended up in this place but more focused on how to best use this time to get something out of it besides aggravation.
Time is far too precious to be wasted on self pity and ridiculous thoughts that lead no where positive.
It may suck and feel like punishment but it is providing both blog fodder and clarity for how I want to live my life. There is purpose and utility there and that is what I’m going to hang my hat on.
Now if I can find time to write a proper post tonight I shall be quite happy.