Haiku Hacker

My Door 

Late Summer Sunlight,
Crystalline Monet morning
In watercolor.

  

A kayak lesson:
What seems to be a defeat
Is only delay.

                                                                                                    

Winter winds warning
Of coming savage weather -
Prepare for the worst.

Soft Season Shadows
Brushing rustic fence corner,
Indian Summer.

Natural History

Spotted Tussock Moth 
Caterpillar

Love those baby blues.
Beautifies the cityscape.
White wall, lacy trees. 

Electricity
So many lines crossing here,  
Presence of power.

Western Canal Trail Crossing, Mesa/Chandler Line

A selfie with the queen, the president or Angelina Jolie would be the ultimate selfie, right? Some of those have happened. Kudos to the lucky fans but there is just one selfie I need: the self help advice that comes from digging deep within.  Others can encourage us, even share their philosophy but for the long haul, it is really our deal.  The old serenity saying comes to mind:  Accept what you cannot change.  Change what you can.  Know the difference.

Chaos the Theory, versus Chaos the Reality is what I'm talkin' about.  Jerry's chaos reality involves working your tail off, albeit haphazardly, but most of all to not NOT learn something new. If it's inspiration you need, call him perseverance personified.  The number of new things he has learned and perfected since we have been married is impressive, but if you think Chaos Reality is not the result, you have got another think coming.  When it comes to doing it all, he is just sure that pure effort will win the day, so it takes an awful lot to stop him in his tracks.  Tell him he can't and he will show you he can, while cheerfully getting a suntan.

I've always been the support team, the clean-up gal, but lately, it's more like his favorite golf joke about the guy who had a heart attack on the golf course.  When asked what he did after Fred died, the answer:

"Hit the ball, drag Fred.  Hit the ball, drag Fred."

I have been feeling a lot like Fred.  The image of being buried alive has not yet begun to haunt my dreams, but this gal sees the mess growing and this gal thinks there has got to be a better way.  This gal thinks she's smarter than this job.  Desperate for a break, she stops by the second hand store where she picks up a couple of books she doesn't have time to read:  Never Surrender and ta-dah: Thriving on Chaos.  Probably some subliminal self messaging going on, as this gal decides she will quite happily own her own library.  Hmmmm.  Is this gal just hopelessly optimistic?

No one would tell you that I'm committed to routine.  I love to change things up, and I adore fresh ideas.  A clean slate is my delight.  I am as gung-ho as gung-ho gets, but routine as a strategy works over the long term better than full frontal attacks on multiple fronts.  I had three important excuses and a ton of reasons to make it work: my three children provided plenty of incentive to narrow things down.

Until I went deep into empty nest syndrome, my first, second, and third best excuses for routine drove my schedule.  After that, I became a wanderer without a destination and from hopelessly optimistic, approached desperately forlorn. The problem wasn't the kids leaving home.  The problem was losing something profoundly meaningful to do every day.

Last night I had a dream about a very brown and bent, but lively old lady who had built a school for kids in a small space in an area of squalor using a few colorful pieces of cloth, some scavenged teaching materials and love for building up children shining out of her being.

Dreams are a good way to search the subconscious for clues.  Plumbing and renovating has less meaning for me than working with kids, but it is still a way of improving our world.  That's what my husband sees every day, and probably is what helps him look beyond the disordered, uncontrolled center of the hurricane.

The excuse/reason for our state of disorder is that we live from one emergency to the next. While we like to think of ourselves as flexible, willing to drop anything to be where we are needed at a moment's notice, our life has so much flux that I am getting seasick.  I am on that ship right along with my captain, so why would I question his sailing skill? Oh, but I do, I do.  Advice once given that I remember well: just cooperate.  Not difficult, really.  Simple, in fact.  Cooperation is a great thing, I'm reminded.  Synergy - give, to get.  Aye, aye, Captain.

After thirty-five years of marriage, most of which have been consumed with many attempts to live outside of my comfort zone, I admit to abysmal failure in at least one thing.  My body is still in the relationship, but my head is still seeking a method of execution - with about as much success as a chicken with its head cut off.   The "for better or for worse" that I thought would be better and turned out to be a whole pile of overwhelming worse, but not as terrible as it could be, like really losing my head, which I sometimes feel in danger of doing. Whoa. Fried chicken is on the menu, since we are making the best of things.

Still, something must be done because in all seriousness we are in this until death does us part even if we can't stand each other by then.  If love and cherishing goes out the window, then until death do us part keeps me in check - that is, if we don't kill each other first - the finest and most delicate fine line ever.  Strangely, he keeps telling me he would do it all again.  I might do it again if we have "irons in the fire: Ten or less," inserted right after for richer or for poorer, and every time he admits there are too many, we hire someone other than our own family to bail us out.

Hence: Item 1 of the following article.  I really think it says all that needs to be said: attitude is both voluntary and involuntary, and like breathing, we can learn to use it more effectively and with control as in yoga, singing or using it to go to sleep more easily.  Also, we visited two of the kids this weekend.  Support Team (of) One activated.  I have things to do. Optimism dial has been turned up. Ciao.

                         http://www.silvamethodlife.com/6-ways-embrace-chaos/?sr=21

http://mrconservative.com/2014/09/50266-archaeologists-discover-the-actual-garden-of-eden-and-its-breathtaking/

Gasping at the view,
Only blue sky From here on.
I am enchanted.

Or Purple and Blue
Above a busy city
Sunset slows the pace.

Palm leaves in the breeze,
Picturesque at Pizza Hut
Asymmetrical.

Palms and Mesa skies
With sun-spiration lighting.
Artistic evening.

Clouds glowing with light,
Lavender and desert breeze,
Uplifting moment.

 Three Palm Silhouette:
Luxuriously fanning
Bejeweled despot.

The Kayak setup,
Rolling technique disappeared.
Wonder what happened.

A paddle attack.
Half-measures don't cut mustard.
Is it my turn yet?

Practice pro-slider
Launching flotation device,
Seizing the moment.

Orientation
Can you do it upside down?
Sweeping C to C.

Leaving a light on -
Bright night flight lighting the way,
Weary passengers.

Color awareness,
Red Leaves of Lilac
Bathed in the sunlight.

Natural Brown Eggs
Myrna's chickens all have names.
Better than cage-free.