Category Archives: Just Me Musing

All of my non-poetry posts, relating to anything and everything. Mirthful, with a sprinkling of Truth.

The Gift – #Thoughts for #Christmas and #Renewal

25 Friday Dec 2020

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My thoughts this morning were swimming, I do confess it. Swimming in the deep end of the pool, where I often do not stray, at least, not without one of those little blow up rubber duckey thingies.

In an attempt to re-center myself, I began to pray, as I often do when my thoughts go out the window. It is my meditation. My Source and Strength, and very often, my Inspiration. Considering the time of year, I let my thoughts focus on the Light coming into the world and the Opportunity that came into the world with it; opportunity for Renewal and Hope, for the Rekindling of Love and Compassion, and the beginning of something indescribable that would, ultimately, change the world forever. A Miracle, perhaps? A Transformation in the onset. A Revolution, some may say.

As my thoughts continued to focus, the Light became a bit too intense and made me squint; resulting in a slightly different perspective. You know how it is, I’m sure. Rather like looking at the Christmas Tree, or perhaps a candle or the moon, and squinting in order to turn the solid light into something sparkly, incandescent and somehow, more beautiful. In doing so, you see the entire Source differently, don’t you? Thus as I pondered, and my mind circumspectly wandered, (Poe-like, perhaps) a thought stepped out from the sparkling light to present itself for consideration.

The Book of Revelations: a mighty paradoxical and quizzical conundrum of words and phrases, largely incomprehensible, at least to me. (walk with me for a moment, I promise, I’ll come back round to my point in a moment). Odd, that a book, which is, by and large, poetic and metaphoric in nature, should confound me, a writer of, by and large, poetic and metaphoric writings, but perhaps that is the Paradox. Maybe. What if I’ve been reading this last book of The Bible all these years, desperately trying too make heads or tails out of it and failing because I’m …well, trying to make sense of it. What if this book is a book of poetry? A Verse (or twenty odd verses) written by a poet who had no understanding about what he was writing? What if I need to look at all the prophecy, the doom and gloom, chaos and calamity from the point of view of someone trying to describe something they cannot describe (rather like me right now).

This made me pause. (things to make you go “hmmmm?”) I might be barking up the wrong tree here, lost in the woods, wandering in circles, off the beaten path, but follow me for a moment, please; there might be light at the end of this tunnel. What if, instead of an apocalypse happening at some distant point in time that will cause despair and fear and turmoil, wars and disease, famine and natural catastrophes; what if all of it is already happening? What if the descriptions of The End Times in Revelations are merely an account of dreadful occurrences that are beyond the comprehension of someone living in a time when simplicity and homegrown remedies were the be all and end all of wisdom? (a lot of what if’s, to be sure!)

So what happens next? Does The Anointed One return, walking upon a cloud of smoke and fire, bearing The Light of all Light and Transforming the world in one fell swoop? Or is this description also an attempt to describe the indescribable? The unfathomable. What if, instead, The Return is more a Renewal? A Rekindling of Mind, Perception, Understanding; of Body, not just physical health, but a change in Attitude, Action, and Purpose; and of Spirit, Compassion, Empathy, Acceptance in Love and Service to others? A Renewal that will change the world into an Earthly Paradise where Peace and Harmony, Love and Joy will Co-Exist freely; where the lion will lie down with the lamb, or, to say it another way, where those who once hated and exploited, through a Miraculous Transformation of Mind, Body and Spirit brought on by a Return to The Light and The Source, will work with, for and beside those they once oppressed.

(is your head spinning yet, because mine still is!)

In this Season of Renewal, when a Miracle entered the world to offer Light and Life to All, wouldn’t it be Rapturous, indeed, to accept this Precious Gift given so selflessly? To decide not to wait on what someone else might do, but walk boldly into the future with a renewed sense of Purpose and direction; with a transformed opinion about the world and those with whom we share it; with a Rekindled Love that reaches across boundaries and beyond prejudice. Utopianism? Perhaps. But wouldn’t such a change be a Revelation? Wouldn’t it, eventually, alter the entire world? Wouldn’t it be, somewhat, apocalyptic, if there were a best sense to that word?

~Morgan~

Beauty in Words – #Motivational Thoughts on #Poetry and #Writing

17 Thursday Sep 2020

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hades_and_persephone_2_by_sandara

Poetry is the Rhythmical Creation of Beauty in Words.
Edgar Allan Poe

Need anything more truly be said? And yet, since I have the inclination to natter, I shall attempt to agree, poetically.

And by agreeing to say that there is nothing worth saying that could ever be said, even in the starkest form, that is not, by some measure and in the generalist terms, some form of poetic entrancement. For if, in speaking or writing, we utter anything at all worth saying, it shall be remembered.  If something is remembered,  then, it can be considered remarkable enough to have made remembrance worthwhile, which leads one to the eventual conclusion that, if it is worthwhile to be recollected, there must be some form or nature in it that catches the imagination, sparks the well-spring of contemplation or illuminates musings.  Also that, being colourfully or creatively inspired is, in its most basic state, a creation of beautiful words that should be deemed poetry.

(excuse me while I gasp for breath!)

Having said as much, of course the opposite is also true and begs to be argued: that the inestimably horrible, atrocious and staggeringly inane is also imprinted upon our minds in a similar fashion as the most lovely sonnet or passing fair soliloquy.  To follow this particular train of rationale to its logical yet absurd conclusion, it must therefore also be considered a form of poetry; although some (including myself) would vehemently argue that such assaults on the psyche are hardly worthy of the title. Yet to be fair and even-handed it must be stipulated.

(Ok I promise, no more caffeine for me tonight!)

Alas, (and perhaps alack for me), and all those who call themselves Poet, to be mixed with such baser matter that we may, at some time and under some inexplicable circumstance, undertake to pen such phrases that I (and perhaps you as well) would never, willingly, undertake to read or promote.  Nevertheless, where there is one there is always the other.  Where there is Light, there is dark. Where there is Good, there is also Bad. (Where there is Chocolate, there is also Vanilla.) And although some may argue that one man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter (with which I should in most cases concur) I cannot in good conscience agree with the subsequent postulation that all poetry, despite its thematic structure or outpouring is, by its very nature, Beauty in Words.

Where does that leave us then? You may ask with that quizzical expression, yet again, upon your face? (which does tend to happen when I start whirling words)

I return to Poe, master (as I see it) of both sides of the poetic coin, who said: Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality. Edgar Allan Poe

And thus, by saying that there is always Light and Dark, Right and Wrong, Beauty and Ugliness, is to say there is, or at least should be, Balance in everything. But to let one side of the coin rule the other, to let the darkness overshadow the light, or to let the atrocities to over rule the kindness is to live out of joint, which bring me to Hamlet (naturally, though you may argue that bringing Shakespeare into nearly every conversation is, by no means, natural) who said: “Time is out of joint. O cursed spite, that ever I was born to set it right.”

And therein lies the paradox, or at least, the challenge. Do I set anything right through the action of my pen?  Do I Shine my Light into the darkness of these current times or do I snuff it out in support of the darkness? Do I Stand on the mountaintop and extol Liberty or do I hide in the safety of my home and shake my head ruefully? Do I proclaim Beauty in my Art with every fiber of my being, or do I bow to the pressure of sales, rating, and stats, producing something other than what would shimmer and glimmer, touch lives and speak quietly to hearts? It is a choice worth considering and a decision well worth making, though some may disagree with my logic and call me as mad as some named (or still named) Hamlet.

~Morgan~
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Beautiful Original Artwork of Hades and Persephone by: *sandara at Deviantart.com

Who is my Neighbor? – #MeditativeThoughts and #Inspriation for#ChallengingTimes

18 Tuesday Aug 2020

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Neighbors

A Friend and I were recently talking about the Amish and Mennonite community, who he described as writing their poetry with the fine works of their hands, rather than with words as he and I do, which I thought was a truly beautiful perspective. I wandered down the path of this perspective, as I am wont to do, and I realized how this is true for most of us, if lyricism or writing, painting and photography are not the gifts to hand. We make our mark on this world, in big and small ways, in lasting ways we little realize, with our words, with our smiles, with our choices, with our convictions, and with our compassion.

As most of you are probably aware, I am Christian by Faith, but I also think outside, above, and on many other sides of the box. I agree with and admire many other philosophies and forms of spiritualism who revere all living creatures and live harmoniously in this world. This appeals to me a great deal and I think this is what Jesus meant when He said “Love your Neighbor as Yourself”. Yet the longer I think about this and wander down the path of musing, I am forced to consider, just who is my neighbor?

Is it the old woman living next door? Is it the young child that runs around in Walmart that others scowl at for making too much noise? Is it the overly obese woman no one wants to look at because society tells us she is ugly and unworthy? Is it the old man with little of his teeth who is standing on the corner with a tin cup hoping for a few coins so he can eat something today? Is it the child whose parents neglect and abuse because they are more interested in drugs? Or is it those same parents? Is it the person of a different nationality than my own whom I cannot understand on the other end of the telephone line who is trying to help me? Is it the young man on a skateboard with his pants half way to his knees and his hat on sideways who I simply cannot relate to? Is it the “crazy” old lady in the mall who is talking to the bench she is sitting on because no one else will talk to her?

Is it the dog that is left to starve because its owners have decided they are tired of it? Is it the cat that is crying on the doorstep because it is cold and hungry? Is it the dolphins being slaughtered by the thousands in Japan? Is it the rhinos being slaughtered in Africa to the point of extinction? Is it the bird I accidentally hit while driving to work or the ants on my porch in the summertime? Is it the Tree that has been growing for hundreds of years that we cut down to make paper that we use to print signs that say Save the Trees? Is it the rivers, lakes and oceans into which toxins and trash are being dumped by the ton?

In my humble opinion: We are All Neighbors in this Living Temple named Earth. Each life, each breath, each rock, each tree, each grain of sand, regardless of colour, creed, nationality, Ancestry (which could possibly make us more related than we think!), fur, scales, 2-4-6-or 8 legs; whether we’ve been here 1 minute or 1000 years.  If we Love our Neighbors as we love ourselves, care for and protect, serve and trust, would not this fearsome, calamitous world become a truly harmonious paradise, where the Lion would indeed lie down with the lamb?

~Morgan~
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Beautiful Image found at: beinspirednow.com

Happy BnVersary BooknVolume! – #BloggingMilestones

03 Wednesday Jun 2020

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SEVEN years? Seven whole years?  Is it even possible? 7 years of endless (well, nearly) blather, prattle, amalgamations, poetically engineered terms, and sentences long enough to make even Charles Dickens envious in a celebration of Words Words Words!

Yes, Indeed!  Today is Booknvolume’s Seventh Anniversary 🙂  Or BnVersary, as I like to say (thus the aforementioned ‘amalgamations’) and I simply had to share the joy!  After all, if you didn’t love words as much as I, you wouldn’t be here; certainly wouldn’t continue to return day after day (or week after week) to see what Morgan is Musing about now.  Perhaps I’m doing something ‘write’; perhaps it’s sheer morbid curiosity on your part; who’s to say, really, but at the end of the day, this non-descript little blog has brought MUCH joy to my life (and hopefully a portion to yours as well) 🙂  You may know me rather well by now. You might be quite familiar with my ramblings, and you may understand exactly how words move my heart and soul (perhaps because they move you similarly) but the following expresses it so well, I simply had to share it (again).  And for those of you who may be new to BnV, this may, perhaps, shed some light into exactly how much I LOVE words.

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…Since my thoughts are flying in a rather confusing array of directions, at least at the present moment, I thought I would preface this post with the aforementioned disclaimer before I end up lost somewhere in the wilds of Uzbekistan with you sitting there with that particularly enchanting, though perhaps somewhat frustrating (at least for you) puzzled expression on your face that most people end up having when they sit down and read one of my whirling words posts, most particularly on night’s such as this when the words are flowing faster than I can logically keep up with, though often, depending upon the moon’s cycle or how much chocolate and/or caffeine I may have had before sitting down to begin writing, it can be a rather bewildering experience; whereat, being the kindhearted soul that I am, and never wishing to intentionally lead someone into a grammatical quagmire, as I am for all intents and purposes a good soul ( though you and I both know that even good souls have halo’s that glow neon red now and again) I generally tend to use this moment of perplexity to point out that I did warn you, my dearest readers, very early on in our relationship (that being the early days of BnV) that I do have the most annoying (or potentially amusing, depending once again upon the aforementioned phase of the moon or how much chocolate or caffeine You’ve ingested before beginning to read) predilection to run off on wild tangents of verbosity that would make even Charles Dickens’s head ache, but let that go.

Word Count: 258
Sentences: 1
Passive Sentences: 0
Flesch-Kincaid Grade Level 52.2 …. YES!!!!!!!!!!! (My work here is done, thank you)

It is moments such as this that give me the oddest, yet greatest pleasure and were during my high school years, amusingly, opportunities for me to stretch my writing skills to such degrees that my English professor ( a very good soul indeed who loved words nearly as much as I did/do) resorted to noting that my fondness for crafting compound-complex sentences on the backs of my test papers during the remaining time I had in class (because I often finished the tests early, being rather good in English class, perhaps not entirely surprisingly) and then diagramming them for the sheer delight of doing so was, in his opinion, a very strong indicator that I had, either, some form of mental derangement not yet diagnosed, or, I was a word-smith in the making. (oooo Flesch-Kincaid Grade Level 53.8! Marvelous! )

You may at this moment tend to agree and I would not argue the fact, but before I leave you with a beautifully muddled expression, please allow me Bestow this final thought:

To Write; To Paint with Words as an Artist Bedecks his canvas with hues and shades and layers of pigmentation; To Sing a Melody upon which the gaze may Linger and over which the Heart may Muse again and again: To Create visual Splendour with grammar and language that is, perhaps, fundamentally underutilized or neglected ( and to use Capitalization in the most maddening, although previously explained, manner), to me, is the most Beguiling form of Intoxication in which I could ever take Pleasure and, for you, Dear Intrepid Reader, to Undertake the Journey; to Brave the Frontier of Superfluous Verbosity and reach the shore with a Smile (though, perchance, to some extent exhausted), is, Hopefully, far more Rewarding an Endeavor than many.

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I hope you enjoyed this Superfluous Verbosity and will continue to do so during the days, weeks, and hopefully years to come!  After all, without YOU my dear followers and intrepid readers, BnV would simply NOT BE!

Thank YOU for Sharing the Journey with me.

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~Morgan~

Whispering Serenity- #A Boring Moment -#COVID-19 #Meditations of #Hope

22 Friday May 2020

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Cast the brazen rush of thoughts,

A churning tempest in your mind,

Unto the Solitary wind,

Whispers of Serenity there to Find.

Be Calm among the restless throng

Thrashing in the maddening churn;

Serenity Whispers Quietly

From the Hush of starlight as it burns.

Loose the shackles of dismay

That bind your hands and feet;

Fall into Serenity Whispering

From the garden of moonlight, Smiling Sweet.

Listen not to the wrathsome noise;

Sigh deep and long as the chaos whirls;

Listen to Serenity Whispering

As Tranquility Gently unfurls.

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Today’s world of rush and hurry, of frenzied business and over-scheduling and impatience may have been calmed, slightly, by the blight of COVID, but the tumultuous storm of social media that has spewed outward in its wake can still leave our spirits needing.  Although it is difficult to avoid, this calamity of chaos can be balanced through the deliberate seeking of Quietness and Calmness, and one does not need a strict regimen of yoga or meditation in order to find it.  What is required, however, is a decision.

Deciding to choose a few moments of Quietness in place of turning on the telly or switching on your playlist can, at first, seem just as challenging as the aforementioned yoga.  Electing to go outside to sit Quietly beneath the stars may sound monumentally boring, and choosing to stay home rather than running out early to grab that over-caffeinated, sugar-infused, powerhouse beverage might lead you to wonder if you’ll stay awake long enough to accomplish the 101 things on your To Do List, BUT the benefits of Quietness and Calmness cannot be overstated.

I recently found myself beside a pristine lake surrounded by acres upon acres of woodland, a crystalline cerulean sky stretching out overhead.  The Quietness and Calmness of that place filled me more sweetly and far more intoxicatingly than the finest wine and the peace that environment suffused into me has lasted days later.  I sat with eyes closed, listening in bewitched breathlessness to the Hush; the whispering wind as it swept its hands through the tawny hair of the bordering trees; the mesmerizing ripples of unobtrusively  burbling water; the laughter of waterfowl praising the golden sunlight and the tambourine chatter of dried leaves tumbling over flaxen grasses.  The Quietness and Calmness filled my senses with Serenity that soothed unlike anything else might, sharing its precepts unforgettably.

All that is required is a decision.

Stop

Close your eyes

breathe

Hear

You may be surprised just how restful a boring moment can truly be !

 

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~Morgan~

Dare to Love – #Meditations for #ChallengingTimes- #COVID-19

10 Friday Apr 2020

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Dark Alley

When all the world is closing in and fear and doubt hang like rhapsody in enigmatic terror, life becomes a whirlwind that can easily lead you, twisting and turning, down the wrong alleyways; stumbling into darkness even before realizing. Labyrinth of confusion; darkness leading into darkness, grasping and pulling at your legs, tripping you, entwining you, making you stumble, making you fall. Uncertainty follows close on confusion’s heels, making each step more baffling than the last, as you try to see in the dimness, seeking a way out, but paradoxical conundrum leads down unfamiliar avenues and before you realize your mistake, you find yourself entirely lost.

Alone in the murk of restive passages and upon unhallowed ground, you creep in bitter incongruity; as the enemy closes in on all sides, taunting. Two choices face you blatantly: Hide yourself in the unsavory undergrowth or call out for Love. Villains clamor on both sides, seeking exploitation of rash imprudence, derision sharp and caustic, yet tempting intrepidity calls from the shadowy wilderness, luring your brazen boldness until you follow.

Lavish wonders, full of blasphemy; delicious alchemy, wrought with irreverence, toying with your immortal spirit, tattering robes of golden silk spun for you alone as deception breathes contagion. Willing transgression, mortal suffering breeds contempt and blame worse than any torture, more bitter than arsenic. Worthless, reckless, piteous fool; unfit, ungrateful, and filled with greed!

O listen not to your own accusing! Filled with deceit your condemnation is, standing against Love’s every desire to Draw you close, to Lift you up out of the pit of despair into which you’ve fallen.  Your fear and guilt blocks every Blessing Love longs to Bestow.

Turn not aside from Love in sorrow or in guilt. Look not into the darkness seeking sanctuary when Love stands waiting to Hold you and to Restore you. This may seem like blighted perplexity seeking to tarnish thought and cloud sight; yet in your sorrow, lift your head and see Love waiting ever near.  No change is required; no costly alteration is needed, for Love has already Given All that is necessary.

Allow your heart to Love and your soul to sigh with peace.   Walk beside Love, giving of yourself through honesty and integrity and you shall find Blessings and Bounty reserved for you alone.

Streaming Morning Light

~Morgan~
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Dark Alley Photograph found at: http://www.jenningsbigay.com
Streaming Light Photograph found at: http://www.raysmarketplace.com

Music’s Mystery – #Music Inspired #Musings

07 Tuesday Apr 2020

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I’ve heard it said that only human beings have been given the gift of music; that only people create songs, sing and serenade their souls with this most magical and uplifting form of communication and communion. Yet, should we not consider the song of the lark? The haunting ballads of the whales? The mournful call of the wolf? The robin’s lyrical laugh at dawn and dusk? The crickets that serenade the nighttide? The burbles of monkeys swaying in the trees? The laughing of the hyena?

Who is to say that in their melodic tunes, caterwauls, howls, wails, and other worldly vocalizations there is not some measure of music. Why should we be the only ones to sing praise, to croon our love, and to bewail our distress? How can we know, in truth, in honesty, that the deliberate scree of the hawk, the piercing bugle of the elk, the chattering of raccoon and ferret, and the murmurings of infrasonic elephant calls is not music to their ears?

Music is a form of communication that lifts the soul, expresses emotion, and brings one being into contact with another being. If this is, indeed, the definition of music (of which it is a form) then can that being not be one other than human? Does not one wolf join another when it sings? Does not the whale song change season to season and year to year, picked up by another whale to be carried on? Does not one roaring lion inspire the entire pride by its lusty cry?

Consider what the morning would sound like without the sweet music of the birds. Contemplate what the summer night might be when not a single chirrup, trill, drone or buzz lilted through the air. Ponder how deep and lonely the oceans would be without the drifting, breathtaking songs of the whales. Can you even imagine a mountain landscape without hearing the echoing howl of a wolf or the bubbling laugh of the loon?

If these sounds, that can captivate us and uplift our thoughts, our hearts and even our souls, are not music and do not do the same for all those who hear them, regardless of race, than perhaps, we must follow that course of logic and say that cave paintings are not art, tap is not dance, improvisation is not acting and free verse is not poetry.

Or perhaps, Music Teaches the Soul what the Heart Feels and Guides the Heart with what only the Soul can Truly Know.

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~Morgan~

Symphony – The #Magic and #Mystery of #Music

07 Tuesday Apr 2020

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Serenade

For Katelyn and Laura….

Rush to my Heart So I May Listen
As the Moment Sweetly Unfolds;
Play Upon my Dearest Notions,
In Swells and Sighs, Like Fens and Wolds.

Stir my Senses, Lyric Melody,
Glory to my Attentive ear;
Symphonic Mastery, Ply Thy Magic,
To my eye Bring Joyous Tears.

Uplifting Serenade of Beauty,
Like a Dove O’re All is Flying;
Splendor Rides Upon Thy Wing,
While I Stand, Entranced and Sighing.

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For the Soul is Music itself.

These Beautifully stirring and thought-provoking words were written by an inspiring fellow blogger (Ihsan at http://www.iithinks.wordpress.com). When I read them I was instantly swept away by their immensity and connotation.
How I Cherish this thought, that the Soul within each one of us is Music. How exceedingly lovely to think of the Soul as Melody, Harmony, Rhythm, Breath, Song, and Sweetly Symphonic Sound.

Imagine, if you will, Beethoven, Mozart, Bach, Handel, or the like, coming directly to you with the express Purpose of sharing their masterpieces with you and you alone, asking only that you should enjoy the sounds, the sensations, the beauty of that playing so they might find Joy in that sweet Harmonious Union. Imagine sitting in the same room, listening in rapt silence, opening yourself to the Artful Majesty and Inexpressible Mystery of their most stunning orchestrations, allowing yourself to be swept away by the emotion and passion that Transcends Time with each and every note.

Yes, I’ve done that once or twice, and I’m sure you have done as well, if not one of those perhaps Chopin, Debussy, Rachmaninoff, (Depeche Mode?) Yes even modern music has the ability to capture us, transport us, to instill in us whatever emotion it intends. Music is one of the most powerful mysteries Mankind has ever known.

To digress for the briefest moment, one of my favourite movies, Immortal Beloved, expresses this mystery so poignantly. It is the story of Beethoven, his life, his loves, his music. In it, he briefly discusses the power of music with a fellow musician.

Ludwig van Beethoven: [in reference to “Violin Sonata in A Major, Op. 47” – “Kreutzer”… ] “Do you like it?
Anton Felix Schindler: Shh!
Ludwig van Beethoven: I cannot hear them, but I know they are making a hash of it. What do you think? Music is… a dreadful thing. What is it? I don’t understand it. What does it mean?
Anton Felix Schindler: It – it exalts the soul.
Ludwig van Beethoven: Utter nonsense. If you hear a marching band, is your soul exalted? No, you march. If you hear a waltz, you dance. If you hear a mass, you take communion. It is the power of music to carry one directly into the mental state of the composer. The listener has no choice. It is like hypnotism.”

This power to connect directly to the Spirit must come from the Spirit itself, from the One who created the Spirit.  Can there be any other conclusion? All creatures, whether human or animal, understands the intricacies of music and we all surround ourselves with elaborate, stirring, glorious (or not) sounds.  It must be because the Spirit itself yearns for that Sweet Communion. Communication between Divine Spirit and Created Spirit, crossing the barriers of Space, of Time, of Existence and Eternity; Touching and Understanding, if only for the briefest of moments through Melodious, Magical Symphony.

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Discover the Music of our fellow Creatures

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~Morgan~
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Beautiful Photography found at: http://www.m.flikie.com

Awaken – #Thoughts for #Challenging Days

19 Thursday Mar 2020

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Whether you are housebound or believe all of the concern over COVID-19 is a bunch of hooey, one thing seems undeniable:​ Our world-wide society is changing and will never be the same.​ ​
The measures being taken are staggering.​ Entire communities are closing down.​ Fear and recrimination are building walls.​ ​ People are hording and hiding like some sort of apocalypse is happening.​ ​
Perhaps it is.​ Is Pestilence riding?
I’ve heard it asked “How can God let these horrible things happen?”​ “If there really is a God, how can he be loving when all this suffering is going on?”​ ​
It’s in our human nature to want to lay blame.​ Someone or something has to be responsible for the things that happen.​ Everything can’t possibly be random.​ Can it?​ I don’t honestly know.​ No one honestly knows, not really, not with 100% absolute certainty.​ There is as much a chance that the universe is organized chaos as there is the possibility that it is under some form of intelligent control.​ ​
It doesn’t exactly matter.​ Whether the Universe lives and breaths arbitrarily or with Purpose, we can utilize what happens for either Good or Bad.​ Positively or negatively. We can turn trials and challenges into opportunities for change or we can allow them to make us pessimistic and angry.​ We can choose to extend kindness or we can turn our backs and grumble.​ ​
Why do plagues kill thousands?​ Why do dictators rise up and subjugate the weak?​ Why do children starve?​ Why are the innocent exploited and brutalized?​ Is it because God is unloving and cruel?
Or is it an opportunity for us?​ A chance to choose love instead of fear?​ A possibility for us to grow and learn to be kinder, more generous, less self-serving?​ ​
Is the Universe shaking us to try to waken us ….
…..from our apathy?​ ​
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~Morgan ~

Abundance Rejoices – #Meditations on #Blessings

20 Friday Dec 2019

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Christmas Present

“Christmas is a time of year when Want is keenly felt and Abundance Rejoices”. …Charles Dickens.

I’m not sure about you or what you think about when you hear the words Abundance, but to me I tend to see the Ghost of Christmas Present, lounging upon his throne of Abundance. “Heaped upon the floor, to form a kind of throne, were turkeys, geese, game, poultry, brawn, great joints of meat, sucking-pigs, long wreaths of sausages, mince-pies, plum-puddings, barrels of oysters, red-hot chestnuts, cherry-cheeked apples, juicy oranges, luscious pears, immense twelfth-cakes, and seething bowls of punch, that made the chamber dim with their delicious steam. In easy state upon this couch, there sat a jolly Giant, glorious to see, who bore a glowing torch, in shape not unlike Plenty’s horn.”

OH what a sight to see, Indeed, yet as I sat in the sparkling light of my Christmas tree on Christmas Eve night, surveying the wondrous Abundance that filled my own chamber, (minus the sucking-pigs and wreaths of sausages) I could not help thinking, somewhat, like Cindy Lou Who, who questioned “Doesn’t this seem a bit superfluous?” Please don’t misunderstand, I love spending the day opening presents with family, enjoying the sweet and savoury treats of the season, sipping steaming cups of mulled holiday wine and then, at last, sitting back with a great, contented sigh. I enjoy the hustle and bustle of wrapping and baking and cooking and rushing (well, almost) and I do confess to having said on more than one occasion that Quantity Counts! (In jest of course) (nearly), but how much quantity is enough?

How much is Abundance?

To some this word brings thoughts of expensive jewelry, racy sports cars, (one for each day of the week!), brand name clothing, fine perfumes, Dom Perignon, (Or if you are me, Veuve Clicquot), trips to Italy, Hawaii, or the Caribbean, Belgian chocolates, or anything else you fancy that you, ordinarily, cannot afford. Yet, the kings of old had all these things, (well, in one form or another), Rome was filled to bursting with Abundance and Jerusalem was rich with The Temple of David; still, the Herald of the Heavens, the Glory of the Lord, a vast Multitude of Angels sang in resplendent joy of the Birth of the Saviour not to the Kings, High Priests, Governors, and wealthiest of men, but to those few, poor shepherds who lived in the fields with their sheep.

This small cluster of followers had little Abundance, in the worldly view; they had only what they needed to survive each day: food, clothing, a tent to cover their heads, perhaps, and maybe a musical instrument carved from wood, which they might use to serenade the quiet evenings in humble praise. Nevertheless, what they lacked in material wealth, they made up for in spiritual Abundance. They were rich in their love and kinship; they were wealthy in their appreciation of simple pleasures, of goats milk, perhaps, and wild honey; they were prosperous in sharing their faith and traditions. They were Abundant in all those things that, we too, value above all else: Hope, Faith, Joy and Love.

So whether The Ghost of Christmas Present poured out the light of his shimmering torch upon you and yours this holiday, or whether you celebrated in quiet, homespun holiday tradition, without all the froof, jing-tinglers, and hulabaloo, Perchance, this simple notion might settle softly amoung the gifts under your tree, as it did mine this year: That All the Abundance in the World cannot Shine more Brightly, Please more Completely, or Linger as Enduringly as the Gift the Herald of Heaven brought that quiet night so long ago.

~Morgan~
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Ghost of Christmas Present found at: pjlynchgallery.blogspot.com
Heavenly Herald found at: blogs.nd.edu

Impressions – #DailyMeditations for #HarmoniousLiving

03 Sunday Nov 2019

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Gothic

What you Think about Another,
Will be Reflected in How You Treat Them
Love Each as your Brother, As Your Mother,
And Kindness from Your Love will Stem.

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Harmony Blossoms when we Look at another and See ourselves.

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Take each step upon the Path of Life with the Intent to Smile
and Harmony will Light your way.

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Reach with Hands that seek to Give
and
Abundance will Fill your world.

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~Morgan~
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Beautiful Photograph found on Pinterst.

Spanking the Pomegranate – #Phraseology & #Language

02 Wednesday Oct 2019

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Pomegranate

I cannot speak for other languages as I do not know any others fluently, (unless you are including Dlalth, but since that is one I made up myself for my story Dark Fey, it really doesn’t count) but the English language is a curious thing. Have you ever noticed how often we say things that mean something entirely different from what we are actually trying to say? Our slang is chock full of examples. (such as the one I just used.) Chock? How does a word that means to block or stop something from moving; a ships fitting or cable, or an anchor or brace, end up in an expression that means completely full? Even Wiktionary cannot say for sure.

I loved the Linguistics class I had in high school; learning all about words, phrases, slang and etymology; what’s not to like, really? For someone (like me) who spent their free time constructing grammatically correct, compound, complex sentences worthy of praise from Charles Dickens and then diagramming them (correctly, I might add!) just for fun; explaining that I enjoyed the systematic study of (the English) language is like saying Mr. Spock is Logical or Hobbits have hairy feet. It’s a given.

The variety of vernacular that exists, depending on the region (or country) you live in is truly amazing or, one might say, is enough to make your head spin or leave you gobsmacked. As I have lived in several distinctly different areas of the country (that country being the US) I’ve picked up more than a few catch phrases (although how I picked up an inanimate object and what exactly said object was catching I am by no means sure).

In South Central Pennsylvania, where I presently reside, there are a plethora of colloquialisms derived from the Pennsylvania Dutch community that are peculiar enough to make anyone who is not from the area stare at you like you just started speaking Klingon should you happen to use one. For example, if you are embarrassed about something you Feel Your Nerve. If you cannot sit still you are Ruchy. If you want me to move down lower in my chair or make room for you on the park bench you would ask me to Ruch Down or Ruch Over. Similarly, the milk bottle is not empty, It’s All, and you don’t turn off the light, you Make Out The Light.

When I lived in the South (Alabama to be exact, which was an experience worthy of its own bizarre post) I swore left and right (although I never actually turned my head) that I would not be Fixin’ or Reckon’ anything. Nevertheless, I often found myself saying things like It’s Fixin’ to Rain, which means It’s Getting Ready to Rain, or It’s Fixin’ to Get It, which means Things are About to Get a Little Crazy. Fixin’ simply means Getting Ready, unless, of course, you say I’m Fixin’ to Get Ready, which, literally translated, would mean you are Getting Ready to Get Ready, but in reality it means you are already Ready to Do whatever it is you are going to do. Confused yet? I Reckon’!

(Disclaimer to my friends across the pond: As I am not British, {a tragedy I will forever lament}, I believe I understand the proper use of the following examples of British slang, but should I be mistaken, please do feel free to correct me)

In America we say Ta! when we mean Goodbye and Cheers! when we mean Thank you; however in England they say Cheers! when they mean Goodbye and Ta! when they mean Thank You. In America we ask if someone is All Right? when we are concerned over their health or state of being; however in England saying All Right? to someone is like saying Hi, How are you? And if someone in England said to me Give Us a Bell, being American, I would raise a delicately arched brow and hand them a bell, when what they really mean is they want me to call them (or ring them) on the telephone. Perplexed? Me too!

The differences in our own language are endless and with all these intricacies, dialects, regional connotations, and interpretations about (or around, depending) not to mention slang usage and hyper-text abbreviations, it is a miracle that we understand each other at all. So the next time you (or I) labor for hours masterfully interweaving descriptors, plot, characters, research, and good old fashioned fancy into something post-worthy; yet it ends up sparking only minimal interest (or the editor/publisher requests an absurd number of rewrites), take heart! Even if only a handful of readers ultimately respond, you can still consider it a triumph of communication in a sea of chaff.

OH….any for those of you who were lured in by the double-entendre of this post’s title, Spanking the Pomegranate is simply a culinary term used for liberating those delectable little jewels of sweetness from the otherwise inconsequential husk of the fruit.

~Morgan~
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Beautiful Photograph found on pinterest

Sorrow- #Remembrance of #Love

11 Wednesday Sep 2019

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Sorrow

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It doesn’t seem possible that 5 years have passed since my Mother left this world for the next.

It isn’t conceivable that it has been so long, and yet I miss her still and the grief can still overtake me.

I found it hard to imagine 5 years ago when a close friend commiserated with me and said she could not believe 5 years had passed since her own mother moved to a different realm; yet now I stand wondering where 5 years have gone.

So much has happened, so many things I wish I could have shared with her, though I know she watched and listened and shared them with me through the silent whispers of Love.

5 years ago this day was unbearable.  traumatic.  heart-breaking.

Today I remember, not with tears, but with overflowing gratitude that I was so Abundantly Blessed to share so many years with so Beautiful a spirit as my Mother was, IS and ever shall be.

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Sorrow has broken my heart this week. The trauma of bearing witness to slow decline, the struggle, the anguish, and, Today, the Unbearable, Inexpressible, Heart-wrenching LOSS and Loneliness is nearly more than I can bear.

My Mother Passed on into the Realm of Eternal Love, Hope, Peace and Joy today. I Envy her. I Rejoice for her. I miss her more than I could ever, ever say.

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I love you Mom!

~Morgan~

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Beautiful Original Artwork by:Unknown, but I thankfully acknowledge credit to the talented artist.

Showers of Blessings- #BeTheChange- A Thought on #Gratitude, #RandomActsofKindness and #Generosity

10 Saturday Aug 2019

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thankful

Being Grateful means, by Oxford’s definition, a readiness to show appreciation for and to return kindness; having or showing the desire or reason to thank someone for giving pleasure or comfort. Being Grateful means you know you are indebted to someone for some action undertaken by them that benefited you in some manner and consciously acknowledging that appreciation. Gratitude can take unnumbered shapes and forms, from tickets to the hottest show in town to a brand new Porsche (theoretically speaking, of course), but often gratitude comes in gentler doses; a simple inclination of the head, a tearful, wordless hug, a handshake and poignant look into another’s eyes. Yet however it comes, it is one of the most important things we can ever do.

Expressing gratitude rewards; it builds bridges, it alleviates tensions, it sets a higher standard, but it also opens the doors and windows to blessings untold. It sets aside our baser, more selfish tendencies and allows us to be, if only for a few moments, the people we all wish we could be far more frequently. It makes princes out of paupers and, conversely, paupers out of princes; it is a leveler of scores and a righter of wrongs and no matter how it is expressed, if it is genuine, it is always significant.

Imagine, for a moment, that you are a laborer working at some menial job; cleaning bathrooms perhaps, collecting garbage, mopping floors somewhere. Every day you come in on time, do your job conscientiously and without complaint; you leave only when your task is done completely and correctly, but no one ever says a word to you. If you didn’t do this job, the resulting mess would be atrocious, yet people pass by you all the while you work, stepping to the far side of the hall or moving to the other side of the room rather than approaching you and no one, not even your boss, tells you that you are doing a good job.

Then one day, out of the blue, a complete stranger comes up to you and says Thank You. They tell you they truly appreciate your willingness to do a job that not many others would do and they even go so far as to shake your hand, although you are grimy and they are pressed and polished. It only takes a moment, then they go on their way, but their simple act changes everything. You hold your head higher, walk with a lighter step; you go home, tell those close to you what happened, share how good it made you feel and, regardless of the fact that no one, not even your boss, has ever told you how important you are, you value yourself much more highly.

When you go back to work, you feel so good, so essential, you begin taking on extra responsibilities without being asked; you work a few extra minutes each day tidying up or polishing something that has been neglected for months. You talk to people more willingly; you share a smile more easily; you begin noticing the things that others do, which go unspoken, and you take time to extend a token of appreciation to them. A small note of thanks for cleaning the windows so well or a bottle of water for the man cutting the grass outside in the summer heat, and as a result of all of this, you feel even better about yourself.

Not too long after this change occurs, your boss stops by unannounced to speak with you. He tells you that he has noticed what a great job you’ve been doing lately, how hard you have been working and how well you treat your coworkers and the company’s clientele. He explains that a new position has recently been created by management, one for which he feels you would be perfect, and asks if you would be interested in a promotion and a raise. Then he stands back and watches you smile.

And all because someone thanked you.

Yes, Gratitude is a miracle worker, and if we remember to be thankful for our blessings, big or small, trite or unique, miraculous or mundane, our appreciation invariably opens the floodgates and allows Heaven to send down Showers of Blessings beyond imagining.

~Morgan~