To appreciate

Dear blog,

Head feels much better today. I think it didn't last as long as it normally does, nor it I throw up.

I had some good doctors. 

I am thankful for those who were present with me. 

Bess massaged my feet, and head.

And and if I look at the right way, anytime I feel especially ill, I feel as if some part of me is closer. And my mind not so buzzy.

I’m thankful.

Woke up feeling a bit-light headed. A bit of a lingering ache. Bess gave me some medicine. I do feel like a storm has passed.

Makes me want to clean things. Change things, all at once.

To give everything good scrub. To renew things. Like this blog.

Yet, I’m a bit tired, though. So that’s an odd combo.

I wanted to change the template of my blog, into a garden theme. But I peered through the templates, and thought they didn’t look as fresh as the one I have.

So, I guess I’ll keep this one. Until I find something more gardeny.

It seems some parts of this blog have sat dormant for a long while. 

I can't figure out how to change the rude pop up subscribe button. I tried deleting it, a while ago. So it would stop. But it still pops up. I don't even know where subscribers would even go to, at this point. Because I deleted my sumo account. But there it is, on the sidebar.

Either way, my blog is probably like rooms in my own temple, with pictures on the wall that have been there for far too long.

Change them out for new things. 

Clean out the spaces, so we can see the beautiful view.

Dust them off.

Renew things.

Take everything that wasn't mine, and put it in a goodwill box.

I have so many better things hidden under these things. 

Though. 

Amid the dust.

There are good bits.

Part of me feels like a mountain, or a meadow or a forest. A garden, me. That has been here for a long time. Mountains, and gardens never seem dusty. They just change with the seasons.

It feels like old and new are changing.

And yet, I wonder…

Do mountains and meadows want things?

Do meadows want streams, and wildflowers, and deer?

Yes, I think they do. 

Does a mountain want someone to see it? I would say that it does.

Does a mountain want trees, and wildlife? And someone to camp, and enjoy it?

Yes.

Does the sky want anything?

Perhaps clouds, and rainbows,  and birds, and sunlight, and moonlight, and stars.

Yes. I guess the sky does.

Just as it likes to be blue.

Does the earth the ground, want things?

Yes, I guess so. I think it likes to grow grass, and green things. It’s magic, after all.

It wants to bloom, in its own way. The ground wants feet to touch it. And hands to kiss it.

Yes the ground wants these things. Peace. And gratitude. And love. It feels these things. I’m sure. In its own way.

Even my birds, want something. They love for me to look at them, to see them, and watch them. And if I don’t, sometimes they jump onto my pillow, or wherever I’m focusing, and they get right in front of me.

Music, wants ears.

Flowers want eyes, and noses.

Yummy food wants tongues to taste it. Today I pondered mustard. I really like it's sour zippy flavor. And I thought how interesting it was that God made so many flavors. 

How, did this happen. The flavors? 

Then God created someone to taste them. It's quite beautiful to ponder.

I would say sadness wants feeling, wants consoling.

Happiness, someone to share it with.

Joy, someone to be joyful with.

I think everything most of all, appreciates, appreciation.  

Presence. 

This feeling of being. Of being fully here with life.

And to know this. I see how beautiful we could all be, if we gave this seeing away to each each other.

So.

Like my sister said, “a lot of art has already been produced in this world, so much, in every area.

Perhaps we should be professional appreciators.”

 And all this time I thought the point was to be excellent at what one did.

When all that was required was to appreciate. To appreciate life, small or lofty. To see other people, and appreciate.

And notice how beautiful they are.

How beautiful everyone is.

I would like to do that. To do it so so softly, like a hand outstretched appreciating a butterfly landing on it.

To see a the pieces holding everything together, and clap for them.

To be able to appreciate the subtle, and the grand.

To notice the lonely, or the lofty with equal love. And if, I was asked to make art, or music, or food, or atmosphere. 

I would hope that it would be something that pointed to a greater something to the one who has created it all.

This grand mosaic of life.

To be able to trace the patterns, and find the stitches and seams, and appreciate the designer.

Who weaves behind the folds.

Some grand thing. Stories upon stories.

All of us.

Co-writing with the divine. As we flow with the tide of creation.

Following the template within.

To know when to change templates.

When to keep old templates, and just wash the windows.

To delete pop ups, and outdated dust. 

To know what your own, unique template is. 

And what should fill it. 

And what best grows there.

To know the yourself so much.

That when you see the template, you know what