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 |    Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
Winter 17 'Ala (March 18) 2006-03-18 afternoon, 43 degrees and gloomy. 41 and sunny in Peoria, IL. Headlines here read BU Hoo # 2. Great headline  . My friends, the Wrights, must be smiling in Peoria. Poor K.U. basketball players just couldn't get it together. They had a great second half of the season and didn't have the bad attitude of last years' team. Still, quite a disappointment. Of course, it's salt in the wounds that Bucknell had won earlier. Gloomy day here. Cold Spring-like day, but the snow and bitter cold is coming. I'm not looking forward to it. Got e-mail from my dear friend Lee Olson who went on pilgrimage to the Bahá'í shrines in Israel. Some lines stood out. Since Lee writes it shouldn't have surprized me: "On the way down I saw one red poppy blooming among the ivy ground cover. It stood out in single solitude. It made me think of the role of the individual and how just one of us can make a difference." She was describing going down the terraces from the Promenade at the top of Mt. Carmel. The Bahá'í gardens were planted with pansies this Spring and are known for their beauty. And for the green grass which is rare in Israel! She continued: "The lovely beds of solid color are like groups -- beautiful and outstanding but they were still made up of individual flowers that worked (grew) together to make the beautiful whole." Two lovely statements, aren't they? The importance of the individual working alone and in groups. There is a famous scripture that Jeane Delaney loved to quote about how 'God loves those who work in groups'. GETTING  TOKNOWME152. Mist or dust? I love the mist and fog but it tends to be found in valleys and under grey skies and I love sunshine and open prairie which generates more dust than you-all ever want to know. Such are the dilemmas when I want to have it both ways. 153. The process or the accomplishment? I usually like the process, but I must admit that the anxiety lifts when a project is done. By then however, I'm usually on to something else. I would say I'm more into the process. 154. Neat or not? Not! And I don't iron my underwear either. Drawers are for stuffing stuff in them; closets the same. Call me Klutter if thou must. (If not just call me Klutz, for short. I'm that too.) 155. What would I do if I had a million dollars? I really don't know. Part would have to go to Donna. I'd probably set some aside for people who've been there for me, some for family and some for Gary, Kevin, and others I truly love. Beyond that, no clue. 156. Would I take my old job back if it were offered to me? I might have to! But I wouldn't want to and the very first thing I'd do would be to develop an exit strategy. 157. How would I feel if those I love the most would call me? Hard to say. Probably bittersweet. The sweetness of having someone acknowledge that they care in return. The bitterness of having had to wait for years. Yesterday I found more family. Uncle Mittje (Mittie) has been a myth for me. Knew he existed, but don't know whether I knew him. Found him and Anna. Anna may have been his step-sister, just like when Edward Hessel married Lillian Lawson, Mittje's sister. Now, I do remember Uncle Ed and his offspring: Lola, Leslie, Evelyn and Naomi. Ah, these Swedes wove a tangle. Family tree looks more like macramé. Sketched yesterday: Green haze of the privet Green haze of the privet, blue jay quiet among the buds, Springtime tries to bloom this evening, at Old Man Winter's cost. Yet snow-clouds gather 'round grey gloom, cast out their bulbous doubts, while tulips hold their hands in prayer and quince ignores its loss when Winter covers all in white, returning from the North and leaves and buds and flowers wilt until the sun comes forth. Then, once again the green-haze privet melts the eyes and hearts. [162.803] O SON OF EARTH! Know, verily, the heart wherein the least remnant of envy yet lingers, shall never attain My everlasting dominion, nor inhale the sweet savors of holiness breathing from My kingdom of sanctity. ~ Bahá'u'lláh, Persian Hidden Words #6 |
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