Dimensions, Part 2

2

January 30, 2019-

As I mentioned in the previous post, many people look at themselves, or at others, and see ONLY one, two or three aspects, or dimensions of the person.  If one sees one’s own worth,  solely in terms of work ethic, then the admirable work drive consumes the person, and most likely will leave the soul wanting affirmations, as to all that there is, untapped and atrophying, in its other dimensions.  If a person views members of the opposite gender, primarily in terms of physical attributes, then the beholder will be constantly bored, listless, looking for the next comely person to appear.  The person so objectified may pick up on this, in fairly short order, and understandably move on, feeling basically unappreciated.  The same is true for ANY single attribute:  Athletic prowess, financial acumen, generosity, being light on one’s feet, sense of humour, and so on.

We are far more than the sum of our observable parts, because so much of one’s whole is UNOBSERVABLE, to the naked eye- and to the naked psyche.  I could be dressed to the nines, should I attend a gala event, and perhaps attract a woman’s attention. If, when next she sees me, I am in a message teeshirt and old Dockers and am perhaps a bit unkempt, she will experience cognitive dissonance, to the extent she sees me as a one or two dimensional individual.

If a stand-up comic regales his audience, of a Saturday night, leaving most of those in attendance, in stitches, and a few days later, in a foul mood, encounters one of them and brushes off a request for an autograph, the same sort of dissonance may be the jilted fan’s experience.

Simply put, it takes time- and a fair amount of it, to really “get under the hood” of a human engine.  I experienced my late wife, in all of her moods, and vice versa, BEFORE we were married.  Being prepared to stick together, through whatever storms came our way, made all the difference, including readying me for the caretaker role I was to assume, in her final eight years on this plane.  It was NOT true, as one of my accusers put it, not long ago, that the only way Penny could get my attention was to get sick.  We lived for one another, day and night, for nearly thirty years.

The same is true of every other married couple I know, who have endured, or are enduring, similar storms.  The same is true of work partners, in many enterprises.  The same is true of the most intimate and enduring relationships, of any sort.

NEXT:  What are some of the dimensions, of which little is commonly known?

Carrying the Heart Home

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November 15, 2018, Prescott- 

As I sat in the midst of a Community Celebration of Thanks, this evening, there was plenty of time, even in the crowd that attended a full schedule of interfaith devotions, to let my heart reflect on what has continued to  make this year one of astonishment and the bestowal of divine grace.

In the past few days alone, I have received affirmations in the areas of finance, friendship and health that I sensed were coming, in the darkness of October, yet had no idea how quickly they would present themselves.

Now, to top it all off, comes the highlight of the year-as I feel, but do not physically witness, the marriage of my son, to a mature, grounded woman, three years his junior, but in every sense his partner, walking side-by-side.  I will be there, in the Spring, though, when they affirm their vows, in a spiritual setting.

I will have much more to recap 2018, upon my birthday, two weeks hence, and of course, at December’s end, when the face of Janus appears again.  The bottom line here, is the value of patience and certitude, even in the darkest of nights.

Our Best Friends, across the Universe, always seem to show up when we need them-though maybe not always upon demand.

 

Sixty-Six, for Sixty Six, Part XLIII: Ever in Wonder

8

July 3, 2017, Carson City-

Along the path to Grama’s, I walked.

That path crossed a road,

and for crossing alone,

I felt a sting on my backside.

There are limits to what a three-year-old

can do, alone.

Along the path to the shopping center, I walked.

That path crossed several roads,

and for being alone,

I was briefly accosted,

by a couple of ruffians,

and almost struck by a wayward car,

that had jumped the curb.

There are challenges,

for a nine-year-old,

when walking, alone.

I sat in the airplane,

gazing out at the clouds,

and their patterns.

I was seeing for the first time, at their level.

The path through the skies,

held promise

and peril.

Many are the possibilities,

for an eighteen-year-old,

striking out, on his own.

Turning around,

in that crowded,

light-filled, noisy room,

I returned the gaze of one,

who had seen something in me,

that others overlooked.

My path was no longer

for me to walk in single file.

Life brings affirmations,

to a thirty-year-old,

who need not be alone.

Holding the little being

to the light,

I spoke words of welcome.

My line now continued,

for at least one more generation.

The Universe sang songs

of certitude,

to a new father,

listening, alone.

Father and son walked

from the car,

towards the hospice door,

and witnessed the wispy spiral

carrying dust and leaves skyward.

I touched her still-warm body,

and kissed her face,

with her eyes still open,

in seeming astonishment.

The path is ever-shaky,

for a sixty-year-old,

once again, alone.

Time and again, since then,

I have followed things through,

to completion,

having been roundly chastised,

by a well-meaning watchman,

for all those things,

I did not finish,

in times gone by.

The paths have been many,

and the rewards even greater:

Filbert Steps, Portlandia,

Space Needle, Stanley Park,

Wrangell, Mendenhall,

Mount Verstovia, Beuk-ai Temple,

Tuileries, Jeanne d’Arc’s Tower,

Mont St. Michel, Carnac,

Daily Gourmand, Old Bruges,

World Cup rally at the Bourse,

McAuliffe Square,

Luxembourg’s National Day,

the Dom of Frankfurt,

the Temple at Langenhain,

Waikiki, Iolani Palace.

The paths have seen me through,

to their ends:

Prescott Circle,

Black Canyon,

Granite Mountain,

and the Memorial to

its 19 Hotshots,

Bright Angel,

Spirit Tower.

The trails continue,

and the wonder,

at the limitless,

open to a sixty-six-year-old,

who  feels far from alone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Knowing When

13

June 8, 2017, Prescott-

My sister’s mother-in-law passed on, this morning, after putting up a good fight, for a good many years. It was just time for her to go on and re-join her husband.  She was one of those souls who walked her own path, without apology.  It was a loving path, but not one that was understood by many people.  I can identify with many elements of that road.

My son and his girlfriend have found themselves on a path, together, that has certainly brought affirmations to his life, and I am sure, to hers.  I’m glad to read of their being focused just on one another, when they are in each other’s presence. As an only child, he has struggled with loneliness, and coped by building hybrid families of peers, when we lived in Phoenix.  He has natural leadership abilities, which of course are more obvious to others, including yours truly, than to himself.  His beautiful friend sees these qualities, I’m certain.  It’s one of the things that gave her the sense of when it was right to walk by his side.

My work situation seems to have becalmed.  I have been assured of a position, come Fall. I am also closer to finishing my yard work- just two small sections remain in the back, and some maintenance work awaits, in the front.  I began gathering things , this afternoon, which can possibly be useful to the Women’s and Family Shelter, and a few things that might be useful to a day center for the homeless.  That work will continue, over the next several days.  It is obvious that it’s time to get rid of all clutter.

Knowing when is the key to a successful outcome.