Bloganuary asks “What irritates you about the home you live in?”
Let me echo a known politician: “I reject the premise of your question.” Our home is bathed in gratitude And to say such carries no platitude.
Homelessness is on the rise in our city Due to rent-stress and evictions sans pity Friends and neighbours have suffered And remain under this crisis un-buffered
Survivor guilt looms on the horizon This, the only irritation uprising; So we can only show gratefulness For a roof of sheer thankfulness.
Bloganuary now asks “What colour describes your personality and why?”
Once upon a time ’twas beige Hiding back, not seeking a stage As time went on some colour emerged And life was released, no longer submerged.
I now cultivate white – but not for purity’s sake; Rather seeking balance as a prism might make When blending all colours into a single beam “All things to all people” seems a strive-worthy dream.
So beige that withdrew into camouflage bland Became an urge to develop one’s own unique brand Of technicolour hues of myriad array Described as white when put forth on display.
Bloganuary challenge: “What’s your favorite [sic] meal to cook and/or eat?”
“For brekky, eat like a king,” they say. “But I eat to live, not live to eat,” I bray! So my favourite meal is simple fare Nevertheless, it has some flare!
Muesli as a foundation akin to manna Bodies sing with a bit of banana Blueberries strewn for the health believer Pineapple histamines against hay fever
All topped off with a bit of milk Down the hatch like a bolt of silk Chase it along with Italian Espresso And face the day with a mood allegro!
Bloganuary asks “Do you have a memory that’s linked to a smell?”
Aromas, bouquets, smells, scents and odours All jockey for attention in my memory-like modus Which one is strongest? Which to the fore? I travel a labyrinth to track down a spore.
Suddenly it hits me with unmistakable sensation A soothing pale fluid of strongest olfaction On lobster-red sunburn from time down by the ocean Dabbed all over, it’s the Calamine Lotion!
Image via Creative Commons: npicartoons.deviantart.com
“What fear have you conquered?” the Bloganuary prompt teases.
Some remain unconquered. A childhood incident triggers aquaphobia. As a result, I’ve gotten through life without learning to swim. For an Ozzie, this is an anomaly! I have concluded that my other bête noir, acrophobia, is just plain vertigo. Air travel is a breeze, even though I get dizzy standing on a step to change a light globe.
My temperament is one that seems naturally tuned into threats, real and imagined. The radar is constantly scanning the horizon, ready to react whenever an unwelcome blip appears. In counterphobic fashion, I am the zebra that protectively circles the herd, keeping an eye on the long pampas grass that conceals stalking predators.
Some commentators describe this persistent low static state of fear as existential dissonance. It is an inherent inability to trust the wellness of things. The antidote seems to be courage cultivated by awareness and paying attention.
The Apostle Thomas is my patron saint. He had the courage to name his doubts and ask his questions. Even though he feared the worst, he was the first to urge his peers to accompany their teacher back to Lazarus’ deathbed, where danger and mortal threat loomed.
I don’t know that one really conquers fear. One becomes aware of it, studies it, and reflects on it. In the process, its grip weakens and it almost becomes like an old friend. It’s no longer fear – it’s something else.
What is your preferred mode of travel? I was a youngster when introduced to Shanks’s Pony. “How are we going to get there?” I had asked. “Shanks’s Pony” was the dry reply that totally escaped the scope of an innocent six-year-old who, nevertheless, quickly discovered that this was the cheapest and easiest means of transport. Ever since then, Shanks’s Pony has served me well. Of necessity, I often use car, bus, train and, occasionally, plane, but Shanks’s Pony offers me the most leisurely ride. This slow mode of transport is helpful when orienting to a new place of abode, whether shifting house or visiting an unfamiliar area. There is something about claiming the way one is treading to make it one’s own, even if it’s experiencing being there. The shanks still get a good workout after almost seven decades and still remain a favourite mode of travel.
I resort to pedantry in order to avoid or stall a direct answer to this albeit common question, which I, along with many, must have mulled over many a time. I note the direct USA reference and how I am not sure now which countries use the short scale (10 to the power of 9 ie 1,000,000,000) or the long scale (10 to the power of 12 ie 1,000,000,000,000). It makes quite a big difference, thus discombobulating thoughts on how such a large sum might be distributed.
I would find it such a headache that, whether short or long, I would employ some trusted administrator to set the moolah up as a philanthropic trust for health and education where most needed.
What chore do I find most challenging? Right now it’s responding to this question! Each day this month I hang on tight For when Bloganuary prompts next session.
Eight PM rolls ’round each day And I hang on tight to my seat Will the prompt be fair? Will it stretch me tight? Will I taste sweet victory or smell foul defeat?
Is it possible for chore to be delight? It depends on what is offering A call for memory, thought, or voice Determines what I’ll be proffering!
Success is the state or condition of meeting a defined range of expectations. It may be viewed as the opposite of failure. The criteria for success depend on context and may be relative to a particular observer or belief system. Wikipedia
That gets the definition out of the way! Now let’s reflect on it.
“Meeting Expectations” often disappoints. “Cultivating expectancy” on the other hand raises a plethora of possibilities.
“Opposite of Failure” – well, in my humble opinion, failures have led me to experience greater understanding, a more comprehensive capacity for compassion, and a more profound place of contentment.
And it is thus that context and belief system cast their relativity. One person’s success can be another one’s perception of failure – and vice versa.
Wondering Pilgrim 