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the flies.  So many flies.  Small black flies.  Fruit fly size. Meaning = small.  Not tin\y but small.  Black.  Energetic.  Everywhere.  In the stair well and walkway to my temporary rental, that is.  That kind of everywhere.  Lots and lots of flies.  Black, small energetic flies.

I hate them.  I dislike them.

They disgust me.  They make me gag.  Reflexfully.

A fact of life, these small black flies.

Bummer.

Righteous anger, that is.  You may know the kind of which I write.  The kind of blazing rage that swoops through one’s entire being, igniting hatefulness and spite in its path.  But most of all, indignation.  The sort that says, “how dare you (to someone else)” or “I can’t even believe my freakin’ ears; how can someone (else) be so ignorant, mean spirited, dense… .”  The variety of anger that sits and stays for a long visit.  Settling in and stinking up the whole rest of the day or evening.  And even when the next day arrives, it’s hard to take that step back to assess one’s own part in the fracas.  Difficult to find the detour around the righteous indignation, past the poor me’s, leaving one in an emotional hungover state.  Wrung out but still sort of pissed off.  Too tired though to re-engage or rage on.

No good.  These times, those emotions.

Living large, happily, tragically or in tiny concentric circles, seems to matter little really.  The seconds, minutes, hours, days, years tick by regardless of our inner state or outward appearance.  This life, this breath, this beating of my heart continues until it all stops one day.  The exact second of the stopping is ahead of me and unknown and yet death will come as sure as the breath that I just took flowed in and out of my body because humans are not immortal.  For now, I am here on this planet occupying the space that I do in my little niche of the globe.  While I am here, I hope to contribute to the needs and care of others.  Contribute to the beauty and world conversation through my visual art, written and spoken word.  Contribute to the network of love that flows from one to another and onto others.

There may not be fame or a well known legacy left behind.  I may be remembered by few outside my family once I am gone.  And that is life.  Mainly, I wish to live the remainder of my days free of the gripping fears that beset me through much of my days and nights.  Free of the anxiety residing in my gut, muscles, heart and head.  These two conditions, fear and anxiety, serve me very little and inhibit the robust flow of life energy; dam it up, really.  Arrests the truer deeper life experiences while leaving hypertension, tense muscles and headaches in their wake.

How to release this fear.  How to let go of the anxiousness.

Sounds so simple.  Easy.  And I suppose it is.  However, I feel stuck in my fears.  I just keep walking, one foot in front of the other.  One breath after another with an occasional reminder to breathe deeply and exhale slowly.

Yes.  Remember to count my blessings.  Each and every one of them.  Big and small and humongo and tiny.  Yes. Count them all.  Every one of the daily blessings I am gifted with, deserve counting.  Deserve acknowledgement and gratitude.

Today, Daughter of Mine and her Husband took the time out of the their day and drove through rush hour traffic to come and have dinner with me before completing their drive to Husband’s family home.  Huge Blessing!  Their effort, company and love mean the world to me, particularly at this moment in time.  During this raw and immediate transitional time; blessings can’t be ignored or come too plentifully.  I welcome each and every one with open arms and an open heart.

Thank you Universe.  Thank you Daughter of Mine & my son of many years.

October 2015
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