I'm treating myself to an afternoon cup of coffee, something I rarely do at home. Perhaps it is the passing of MR, or just that many of that family circle have been in touch these last few days, but I have been a bit more philosophically or spiritually inclined the past couple of days … or maybe it is just the Rumi in the bathroom where I peruse it from time to time.
Last year, I never got around to making a list of resolutions. This year, I am starting now. I usually make the resolution to read a book a week (and generally make that goal, although that includes audiobooks, kids' books, and graphic novels. In 2014, I resolve to watch more foreign films. I mean, can't I find the time, in all my media watching, to stop whatever else I am doing (I generally multi-task with knitting or paperwork or beading or something) so that I can read subtitles and pay closer attention.
So, the theme of next year is Slow Down, Make Progress. I sat with Cooder today and just had a pet with her, but I don't do that every day. And I should. Just as I need to continue to find that 30 minutes to walk every day (or close to it).
So, before you start thinking that I should think more about work goals and resolutions, I am, but just not in a formulated plan quite yet, or steps, whisper or otherwise. Actually that should be whisker goals.
Self-kudos? I managed a 40-minute walk in the dark and the rain … and I had forgotten my gloves, so cold hands, too.
So, got an email from LD … who lost some peeps this week. Made her think of larnin' her Emily Dickinson in high school and it is a worthwhile poem at this point in time
Because I could not stop for Death (712)
|by Emily Dickinson|
Because I could not stop for Death – He kindly stopped for me – The Carriage held but just Ourselves – And Immortality. We slowly drove – He knew no haste And I had put away My labor and my leisure too, For His Civility – We passed the School, where Children strove At Recess – in the Ring – We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain – We passed the Setting Sun – Or rather – He passed us – The Dews drew quivering and chill – For only Gossamer, my Gown – My Tippet – only Tulle – We paused before a House that seemed A Swelling of the Ground – The Roof was scarcely visible – The Cornice – in the Ground – Since then – 'tis Centuries – and yet Feels shorter than the Day I first surmised the Horses' Heads Were toward Eternity –