My crises are always internal. I doubt most who see me would notice the turmoil in my own head. I look like I’m just there, but I am an illusion. My own illusion. We are all our own illusions. Some of us are maintaining our crises internally, while others’ are out like sheets on a line flapping in the wind.
Just because someone can’t imagine that so much of creation is random doesn’t mean that it isn’t random. One’s lack of imagination doesn’t change how it is.
Let it go. Let it go, let it go, let it go. Let it go.
I am a flawed human being. Perhaps any efforts to mold myself to the contrary are pointless; it isn’t possible to exist without flaw. The question is how much effort I should continue to expend or if I should just accept this level of flaw and leave it at that. Sometimes I feel worn out with the effort and not much in the way of reward.
I don’t know.
Cookies are yummy!
I have heard the expression If wishes were horses. I don’t know where I heard this. I am resisting googling this before I write so my writing is not colored by whatever I find on the internets. I keep thinking that if wishes were horses, there would not be enough room on the planet to sustain all of them. And also that wishing and wishing and wishing does not make something true. Desire, desire, desire leads to wishing, wishing, wishing. If every wish were a horse this would be a very strange planet. And what about the horses themselves? Perhaps they are wishing too. What then?
For me, if wishes were horses, there would be a herd indeed.
I did do an internets search and found out that it comes from an old proverb. Horses can be interchanged with birds and fishes. This proverb is recorded in English from quite an early date. A version of the expression appeared in the published works of William Camden in the 17th century. The first known citation of the proverb in the form we now know it is in James Carmichaell’s Collection of Proverbs in Scots:
If wishes were horses, beggers wald ryde.
The date of Carmichaell’s work is unclear, but it does appear to have been published in his lifetime and he died in 1628. Whether it was Carmichaell or Camden who first recorded the proverb is currently not known.
I wonder if this means that beggars didn’t get to ride horses in those days. This should not surprise me. Owning a horse is an expensive proposition. Capitalism would have ensured that those at the bottom of the food chain did not own a horse, which requires food and shoeing and a place to live. No, beggars would not have ridden.
Okay, stream of consciousness, too early because I can’t sleep post is over. Suffice to say, for me, if wishes were horses, I wald haft love.
I have the most profound ideas in the shower. Then I have to get out of the shower and run and I don’t get to stop running until those profound ideas are pebbles and grits of dust on the floor, obliterated.
Children, school, work, horse, dogs, friends all are taking me in bits and pieces in the edges and around corners. Live this life right now one day at a time, the theory being that at some point when I’m living these moments one day at a time focusing on one thing in that moment I won’t be neglecting ten others. This isn’t really living in the moment now because it is done with the hope for the future in mind; it’s bearing each moment now. Taking smiles when I can get them because most of the time it’s consternation and dismay.
The profound thought I had in the shower this morning was that I left myself off that list. I don’t even rank. I decided I would rank for three minutes while I wrote this one tiny thought down.