Grounded from my Computer

This weekend I learned how much time I spend in front of my computer. And the funny thing is I don’t even accomplish anything while I’m in front of it.
What do I do that’s so important? I certainly don’t write the way I want to – or produce beautiful things. Sometimes I try – but a lot of times it’s work. Takes a long time but doesn’t really do anything. At least not anything spiritual or meaningful. Not anything that will last forever – leave a mark on the planet or on people’s hearts …

My husband and son, the two guys in my life, were driving home and he asked where I was. My husband said I was home (I was cleaning, waiting for them, reading). My son said “probably on her computer” … telling

From the mouths of babes

I have been trying to be on less, be present more
What good is it to be a corporal being in a non physical world if I lost the precious reality of moments? How can I say I love people really if when I’m with them I’m always talking about them to other people? I’ve always hated cameras for that, it’s why I have so few pictures – enjoy where you are when you are and let the memories become that when they have to.

My Mom finds comfort in pictures. Poring over images of the past.
I find comfort in the written words, things people once imparted to other people through paper. My Grandmother wrote about her life once and I cherish it forever. I am tormented by things just out of reach. People just lost, or on the other side of an easily traversed ravine.
Ravines, though, no matter how easy to cross, are still – at their core – dangerous.

From the mouths of babes.

I want to be an earth mother, a child of the wilderness, a girl running wild, barefoot in the wood. Somehow I think I would still carry a laptop in my knapsack, some granola bars and water in a jug. Just in case one of us grew hungry.

It’s just how it goes.