Being Positive is Fun, Being Negative is Funk

Wow! It seems like forever since I last posted. So much has transpired. The baby steps that I used to tick off have stopped and that sent me into a sunk feeling. I like to say I am in a funk when I am feeling depressed. In spite of all the positive activity toward my goals I have been stricken with a slight case of depression. My self-esteem is low, and that always is a sign of depression. Some little thing triggered me into a funk. The funk is over, I’ve survived and now it’s time to BLOG again. How did I get myself out of the funk? Well first there is work. Good hard physical work. Thank God, I can still do physical work. That meant that doing my physical therapy exercises religiously and without complaint.

I drove to Pets Mart last week and bought ten good size goldfish for the pond. We can now see fish from our kitchen window, whereas before, the little guys were invisible. Everyday, Lovely and I throw a handful of fish pellets into the water to feed them. I want to train the fish to come to us when we approach the edge of the water.

Another powerful tool for getting out of the funk is to pray. I pray every night before retiring. I coax my sub-conscious into bringing me only good health, great stories, and abundance. Included is a request to help a bunch of people who need it. In the morning, when I walk, it is  another opportunity to pray and speak to God. I can’t walk without praying. It’s a habit I developed over the last twenty-two years.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the endorphins begin to kick in and the funk begins to disappear.

Today, I remembered signing up for writing school twenty years ago. I had hoped to improve my writing to become as good as the really fluid writers on the blogs I visit. Man are they good. I admire people who can write their thoughts clearly, concisely, and in a completely understandable way . They amaze me. How can some writers be so descriptive with their words and others like me are complete klutzes. Do you believe this, I’m writing myself into a funk just by giving someone unknown to anyone an “atta boy.”

I am not a klutzy writer, I do well. Even though others can write rings around me, I must concentrate on the positive in my life and not dwell on the negative. The negative, “or dark side,” can quickly envelop the “id” and predominate. We have to learn and practice being positive every moment of our lives. Being positive is much more fun than being negative. Funk rules the negative person.

What Is Hope?

Time Flies

It seems like just a few minutes ago I woke up. Yet here it is almost noon, and I am just getting to my desk to write something. Time is important to me, and at this age I relish every moment the Lord grants me. It is my opinion that when time “flies” everything is going well, and my happiness index is high. It is when time slows to a “crawl’ that I believe something is seriously wrong.

An example of what I mean when I say time is at a “crawl” is when I am in severe pain as when I had a kidney stone traversing my plumbing last year. It seemed like eternity to get to where it was headed, and I thank God it was a small stone which kept moving. Had it stopped along the way time would have stopped for me, and my happiness index would have dropped to zero. As it was my happiness was almost non-existent. I guess that is what Einstein meant when he postulated his theory that time is relative.

The planet earth is a mere 4.6 billion years old, and the universe is calculated to be 13.7 billion years. When we look at an average life span of man on earth of 78 years we are but a tiny drop in the bucket.

Take an average human who is 78 years old and divide by 4,600,000,000 years then multiply by 100 equals 0.00001695 percent of the total time we exist. I don’t think we can measure things that small using normal devices. Given such a short life span we have to really put our lives into high gear to amount to anything. I guess that might be why it bothers me when I lose a morning to mundane activities instead of amazing, exciting, meaningful actions. What is more surprising is that even with all of the time I waste, that I can count my accomplishments with pride. What scares me is that the time I have ahead of me is far shorter than that which I have lived. It tells me to get off my ass and accomplish something before the last grain of sand passes through the orifice of life’s hour glass. It tells me to take those baby steps, and to take them very fast.

Working In The Garden

Monet garden in Giverny, Eure, France

Monet garden in Giverny, Eure, France (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Recently, I have used other people’s work on this blog. My time in the garden takes its toll on me and the result is a lack of energy left to write. My Lions Club work suffers also. Here it is the third day of summer, and I am still planting annuals in the 2013 Monet Vision. Hopefully, the plants will have enough daylight to survive and thrive before the first killing frost.

Spring came late for me because I spent most of it in Arizona. When I finally did arrive home, the temperatures in Illinois were much the same as what I had in February. The temperature reached 100 on the day we left. After spending three months in tee shirts and shorts, I suddenly found myself looking for warmth. Another delay occurred because my sister-in-law suffered a stroke shortly after we returned. We spent a good bit of time visiting with her and were at her bedside when she passed. Before I knew it, June had arrived and established itself before I pulled a single weed, bought flowers and even considered getting into the garden.

All of that stuff is over now, and I attack the Monet Vision daily with vigor, which runs out in a few short hours. So when I read a news articles like a Zombie, and it appeals to me, I re-blog or link with a minimum of personal expression. Hopefully, I select topics that appeal to my followers.

Being in the garden gives me time to think and to set goals. My list suddenly becomes almost impossibly long, but I will  take the goals baby step, by baby step and get the important things done. The Monet Vision is at the top of the list, next is blogging, third is work on my novel, and forth is the workshop. Oh, I completely forgot, Peggy fits in there too, and I also have to squeeze in a few moments for physical fitness like walking and bike riding. No, wait, I need to find time to spend with family and friends too. I can’t neglect personal relationships for mundane things like the workshop, blogging, and physical fitness. After all, imbibing Winking Owl with my old fart buddies takes precedence over everything else including Peggy(please don’t rat on me by telling Peggy I said that), and the Monet Vision.

Yesterday, it rained and I watched a Wabbit under the eaves eating bird seed dropped from the feeder. He looked familiar to me, but larger than the last time I saw him. Yes, it is the same Wabbit, it is Aga Bambi, last seen eating Petunias from the 2012 Monet Vision. Not a problem anymore, I’ll call the IRS and ask them to send a FBI drone over to keep the garden under surveillance. If the drones spot any signs of terrorist activity, they can tell me to take positive action.

The Man Cave Blocks a Writer’s Mind

I find my self in a horrible writer’s block. The ideas are not coming. Maybe it is because I am preoccupied with a building project in the Man-cave. I have had this project on the books for five years, and decided it was time to make it happen. Building a finished room is not easy for me. I watch the DYI programs and get the idea that building a complete house only takes thirty minutes to an hour. That is not the reality, especially if you are a one man contractor, carpenter, electrician, etc.

After my Lions Club projects wound down, I set the goal to complete the Man-cave by Thanksgiving. It would be simple; just take a simple baby-step everyday. The deadline for next Thursday is not realistic, but Christmas may be a reality. That is, if I don’t go overboard on decorating, both inside and out.

The man-cave is the final project in a series of projects that I envisioned when I moved into this house. Once it is complete, I will begin using my wood shop to do some intarsia art-work. I haven’t done an intarsia piece in ten years, but I still have the desire to create art from wood. A couple of my pieces are shown below. I also have  a burning desire to design and build  whirligigs. These clever devices combine woodworking with wind powered mechanical motion. Since the whirligig constitutes yard-art, the goal is to have one in place in my 2011 garden.

 

Dolphins

Winter Bear

In between all of this physical activity, I still take baby steps toward completing a new book titled “Nightmares from Obama.” Combine that with publishing a new serialized Christmas story for Grumpa Joe’s Place, and it is no wonder why Grandma Peggy feels like she is a widow again. All of these projects and self-imposed deadlines have me stressed out. No wonder I suffer writer’s block.

A single line from a hymn keeps running through my mind, “One day at a time sweet Jesus, one day at a time….”