By the end of this, some of you will be rolling your eyes, I guarantee it.  So up front I’m telling you this is the god-honest truth.

Right now we’re in the middle of Mercury Retrograde when electronic gadgets (like computers!) go haywire, transportation ‘snarls’ more than usual, and, to put it bluntly, we all do more stupid things than normal.  It happens 3-4 times a year for 3 weeks at a time.  This stint is from August 20 – September 12.

Please hold that thought.

The older I get, the more I want to find out about my heritage.  Does knowing where I come from help me know where I’m going?  I have no idea.  But take my two grandpas, for instance, both of whom I never met….

Dad’s dad, Thomas, was born in 1847 and served in the U.S. Civil War.  He was 70 when Dad was born in 1917.  Dad was 78 when he died in 1995.  So if you do the math, my grandpa served in the Civil War as a teenager…while his own son, my dad, served in no wars because he was a preacher and was thereby exempt.  What was Thomas like, I wonder, and how did that war affect him, Dad…or me?

Mom’s dad, Sidney, was born in 1892 and so happened to be one of America’s prominent astrologers in his day.  He published under the pen name Wynn and “began Wynn’s Astrology Magazine in 1931, and for the next two decades it was one of the most influential in the emerging field. He also contributed a column to the New York Daily News and wrote a number of popular books.”

What I knew about my astrology grandpa while growing up in my conservative preacher’s home was that I shouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole.  I even felt guilty about reading the horoscope, so I didn’t.  But when Bill and I divorced in 1990, I suddenly needed to find out why I wasn’t supposed to ‘touch’ astrology?  Would it kill me or my faith?

Since I had already fallen from grace (my last post), I decided there was nothing left to kill, so with a passion I touch-tackled astrology in every way possible.  A lady at work aided my intrigue and put me in touch with a guru of sorts who taught me much.  I purchased top-of-the-line software to work up natal charts and personality reports, which I continue doing to this day with great pleasure.  One of the things I learned along the way is you can get an astrology quack every bit as dreadful as a Bible interpreter quack.  I began to see my life making connections to my past in ways I never thought possible.  Kinda like criss-crossing grandpas.

Now go back to Mercury Retrograde.  I once tried to jokingly explain to do-not-touch-astrology Dad what MR was and he immediately said, “Oh, you mean like when I drove the car from Virginia to Michigan with my glasses caught in the corner of the luggage rack on top of the car…and I couldn’t figure out where I had put them till I got home?!”  Yup!

Okay then.  One more week of this madness and all you need to do is pay attention.  Expect delays and try not to take glitches personally.  Before you know it, life will move into the fast lane and become normal again.

“As in the heavens above, so on earth below.”   That’s why you should always look up!

Are you rolling your eyes?  But I bet you believe in the effects of the full moon, right!  Now that reminds me of when I worked in assisted living….

It can’t be done, of course, but why does it take some of us so dang long to figure out!

Repetition aside, I was born into a preacher’s home, #3 of 8 kids, where everything we did was under scrutiny of Dad’s congregation and community (or so he thought).  There were many things we were not allowed to do because  we were preacher’s kids.  What would people think!  Add to that the #3 positioning and I became what John Bradshaw calls a Golden Child in my family.  I did everything right.  I was a people pleaser.  [I wasn't dumb!]

First, I studied hard and was Salutatorian of my high school class.  I graduated from the well-respected Univerity of Michigan.  Then I became a missionary-linguist to a tribal group in Peru whose language had not yet been written.  After coming back home to marry Bill, we worked in a ministry to college students for 16 years.  It was all like clockwork.  Doing what everyone expected from me.  High up on a pedestal.  Beaming people all around.

Then I fell from grace.  Kaboom.  After 21 years of a good marriage, Bill and I divorced because my being gay just wasn’t going away, no matter how hard I tried.  So we did the right and fair thing for each other…but in the process, the Golden Child became Humpty-Dumpty who fell off the wall and couldn’t be put back together again, at least not in the same way.

When Preacher Dad found out, sister Nancy told me he nearly had a heart attack.  Immediately, and without giving it a second’s thought, I exclaimed to her, “Shame on him!”  Instinctively I knew in that moment that if anyone in the world should have been there for me, it would have been my preacher dad who supposedly knew about the love and grace of Almighty God!  But I shocked myself.  Did I say that?  Suddenly I knew I was figuring it out.  You cannot please all the people all the time, not even the ones you love the most.

So the Journey began.  The Journey of being me, myself and I, no matter what people thought.  I was 45.

Now fast forward.  When I first started posting my images on Shutterchance 4 years ago, I had no clue what I was doing.  I had never taken a photography course and barely knew how to use my camera other than to point and shoot and upload my pictures.  Within the first two weeks I received a couple comments that “criticised” what I had done.  I was so devasted I almost quit.  Thankfully, I DIDN’T but swallowed hard and paid attention to what was being critiqued.

What I have discovered, however, good critisms and critiques notwithstanding, is that photography, like life, is something where you simply CANNOT please all the people all the time.  “It’s too dark.  I don’t like how you cropped it.  You shouldn’t have cut off the top.  It would look better in color.  I don’t like your texture.”  Etc., etc.

I am learning to curb my tongue, graciously accepting the “opinions” of others, even if I don’t agree with them.  I don’t say “shame on you,” nor do I even wince that much anymore.  I do better if the criticism isn’t harsh, but the older I get, the more I pay attention to what daughter Amy told me when I started:  “Mom, it’s YOUR blog and you can do whatever you want!”

Having said that, I still die for at least some of you appreciating my images!  [I'm not dumb!]  How’s that for climbing back up on the pedestal wall! 

Those bumper stickers always make me smile.  I’d rather be fishing or biking or dancing or quilting or whatever.  The list is endless.

Monday is notarious for people “rathering” to do almost anything than going back to work after the weekend.  Even though I’m retired now, I still remember those days.  To be honest, I liked going to work so Mondays never bothered me.  Nor was I a big partier, so I didn’t have to deal with hangovers.  But I know I was the exception to the rule.

One sticker says “I’d rather be digging my grave” and that got me thinking.  Why is it that we’d almost always rather be doing something different than what we’re doing right now?  Or why are we often thinking about something fun we did back then…or will do this weekend or 4 weeks/months/years from now?  I’m not sure it’s just about the grass-being-greener thing.  I think it’s about a very human condition:  we tend to live in the furure or the past but seldom in the NOW.  It takes a lot of work.

There’s much written on the subject, of course (Eckhart Tolle’s The Power of Now being one of the best), and sometimes “incidents” remind us to just enjoy what we have right now.  Astrid heard the other day, for instance, about a previous neighbor who suddenly keeled over and died at age 56.  I wonder if he was enjoying life before that moment or if he had things on his back burner for another day that will now never come.

Maybe I’m talking about two things:  enjoying what’s happening right now (even if it’s Monday morning at work) AND making the things we enjoy happen now instead of who knows when.  But why is either so hard?

Surely there are sticking points beyond our control.  Our hands are tied.  We have responsibility, health and money issues.  Some things will simply never happen and we all know it.  And so we brainwash ourselves into thinking we are stuck and things will never change.  Our now becomes ho-hum or, for some, downright miserable.

Some people have more fire under them than others and are the go-getters we watch and marvel at.  They seem to have an easy time of making things happen.  But that’s probably not true.  We may never know the blood, sweat and tears that got them to where they are now.  All we know is our story and how trapped or in a rut we can feel.  If the cycle never breaks, it can be truly depressing.

We saw the above little girl the other weekend while driving out in the countryside here in The Netherlands not far from home…and I saw myself in her.  My body is getting older and less capable but that Child is bouncing around like a ping-pong ball inside of me, often pestering me with “C’mon.  Let’s go fishing!”

And why not?  Let’s just go do it.  Let’s enjoy the work on our plate, do the dishes with a smile on our face and…then go fishing.  Have our cake and eat it, too.  Little rewards after the odd jobs of my retired life, waiting for the out-n-about weekend after Astrid has worked her tail off all week.  Okay, it’s Monday.  How many more days till Friday, did you say?  It sure beats the digging-my-grave alternative!

[Did you see Toni and Marcie's V2V post on Saturday?  Marcie's little boy and my little girl are fishing buddies!  ]