Fabric analysis

I have followed all the Science channel specials for the past 10 years on the shroud of Turin. It is always interesting how much scientists can find out about the shroud. Over the years they have analyzed the the blood spots to ensure that the spots are real blood. They have analyzed the pattern of the weave to make sure that the pattern is from the right time period. They have sampled the thread to match against the type of plant it was from so that they can rest assured that it came from Palestine. They have taken the microscopic particles of pollen traces and other types of particles to see that what was in the air could have been from the Jerusalem area. It all pans out.

I analyze my own shroud fairly often. I contemplate the causes of certain activities or events that have caused me to react certain ways. I reflect on words I could have said that might have yielded different outcomes. I track my career moves to satisfy myself that I have done everything possible to get to the point at which I am now. I notice the people I have surrounded myself with to ensure that my life is going the right direction and that I can rely on their strengths when my weaknesses surface.

The fabric of my life... my memories, emotions near to my heart, my state of mind... all come together in providing my wholeness and well being. Others scrutinize the fibers of my shroud, too. They usually say that they see something authentic, like the shroud. They can't be expected to see that my greatest hope is not fully present in the fabric. The seeds in the core of that hope have truly, indelibly become a part of my fabric already. What remains is absolutely, without any doubt, unashamedly worth every micro-second of the wait!!!

The standouts

I am reading a book right now written by a couple of cognitive scientists. They are writing with the express purpose of letting brain studies inform education. That should not be such a novel idea since education is based on what the brain can learn. However, even these scientists lament the fact that education and cognitive science have not been talking to each other. Once the two communicate, there is no telling what the outcome might be.

I find that life is many times like education and cognitive science. One decade of life doesn't inform the next. The twenties don't inform the forties; the teens don't extend anything to the 30s. Not everything from every decade is important enough to play forward into another decade. But, I do know that as I look backward, some things stand out, and I wish that I could bring something forward from a decade past, or I see something in the current decade that I know stands out because I have never seen anything like it before. I just want it to last forever because it is head and shoulders above anything I have experienced before.

How I wish that I could surround myself with the standouts-the things that I should have brought forward or the recent experience that is head and shoulders above anything else and would want it to last forever into the decades to come.

Lasting prints

When I walk in the park in the mornings, I pass two imprints in the concrete. One is the shape of a tiny frog. I don't really know how it made an imprint in the concrete. Its tiny shape could not have weighed enough for there to be an imprint. No one could really carve the imprint into the cement to look so exactly like the tiny shape. But it's there whenever I walk, and I marvel at it each time.



The other imprint is three-fourths of the way into the lap. It's a perfectly formed leaf, veins and all. It's about an inch long and has every feature of the leaf as if it were real just without color. If someone had stepped on the leaf, it would have crumbled into pieces. If the wind were blowing, the leaf would have blown off the cement, never to leave an imprint. I really don't know how a light leaf could have stayed on the walking path long enought to be perfectly encrusted.



When I look at my heart, I see the imprints of various events, places, and people. Obviously the beach made an imprint because I ended 4 blogs about it just four blogs ago. I have mentioned various friends or influential adults in my blogs as well who made an imprint on me. And, I have mentioned places like Wyoming or the lake where I have a place. Sometimes, I just want to return to them to see their beauty.

I don't know how some imprints get there or stay there, but they are there, in my heart, ready for recall. But I do know the story of a recent imprint that daily fills my thoughts. It took a little while to form, but it has remained indelibly cast after it did. What a source of solace for a heart that draws on the form embedded nearest to it.

Double-take

How come there's only one Monopolies Commission? - Nigel Rees

Sometimes the best humor is in the irony presented. Life is full of ironies. I had one of those nice little moments today. I was railing against a particular kind of lifestyle when I was sent an email letting me know that a school district signed up in the online high school, of which I am a partner, for its students to take Chinese. We have never offered Chinese before, but an acquaintance that leads the lifestyle I was railing against decided to teach Chinese for us in a virtual environment and brought a whole little school district in Texas to us. Oh, the irony.

And there are hundreds of little ironies all around. I just shake my head. What do you do, right?

For the princess

Ah-h-h to be two years old again! Life was simple, enjoyable, and promising. Cumulative effect for language acquisition was about to hit overdrive. All around was a world of good.

It seems like my daughter was just two a few days ago. I called her my little spider monkey because when I held her, she would fidget and wiggle to look around or to get down. She was very active and wanted to know all about the world around her. I smiled a lot because she brought me much joy!

Tomorrow a special girl turns two. She's a wonderful little princess, the epitome of a free spirit discovering and enjoying the world that is full of promise for her. I'm smiling this day for her bright future, knowing how much joy she brings to those who love her dearly!

The ingredient that makes it all rise

I guess every human being has hopes for something or someone. It may be that the hope is about a major goal. It may include someone else, but without the hope, it would be easy to become cynical or give up on about everything we try or hold worthy of achieving. I know it's the name of a movie, but it is also what keeps the fires inside burning.

Hope floats.

The one delight

Ice cream is a tasty, delightful dessert. All kinds of flavors exist.



All the possible flavors might seem to tempt my palate by changing the flavor I came to the store for. So might peering at different colors or ingredients, the caramels, the berries, the M&Ms, and the pecans. Really, though, they merely prepare me for the flavor that I really came to the ice cream store in the first place.



That particular flavor draws me again and again without tiring of it. That flavor wins out every time, hands down.

Beach-marked thoughts

It's hard to say goodbye to the beach. It's captivating and makes me think of the million reasons to stay longer or to figure out how to buy real estate there. I usually go looking for at least one house or condo to purchase, it is so inviting. But, eventually reason wins out and I pack the car to leave the sand that has been my second home and pleasure. I buy a postcard in the lobby of the hotel, or I take my last-minute 10 more pictures. I review the last 25 pictures I've taken and look back at the beach, desperately wanting to break away for one last walk on the beach, but knowing I did that an hour ago and really can't go back. I have flashes of all the great places I ate, souveneir shops I bought stuff from, all the ticket stubs that I shoved into the zip pocket on the outside of the suitcase for memory's sake, and the parasailing or surfing that marked my memory.

I love the beach. I love the memories of the beach. I love anticipations of next trips to the beach. I love the beach through the eyes of others. It's fascinating and rejuvenating, alluring and inspiring, mesmerizing and vibrant... And I love the people that are beaches in my life.

e pluribus unum

There are all kinds of activities when a person reaches the ocean. Beachcombing is always an attraction. Picking up shells of various sorts is fascinating. Finding all manner of left-behind items piques people's interests. A person can find anything from discarded towels and rags to radios and sand pails. Of course, what is a trip to the beach if it doesn't included surfing and parasailing? Then, the trip to see the dolphins jumping in the water or the trolley to go deep-sea fishing begs one to hop a boat. Water parks dot many coastlines and so add to the attraction of the coast. All of these are just for starters.

There are a myriad of activities to do at the beach. Some activities appeal more than others, and then there are our favorites. They keep us coming back to the beach because we enjoy them so much. When we are not at the beach, we remember every enjoyable part of our experience with those activities. But when we are at the beach, we make sure that those particular activities are included during our visit.

The people we let in our inner circles or that we allow to become a part of the fabric our beings are like the choices of our favorite activities from the myriad of things to do at the beach. We enjoy their company, past times and present, and look forward to enjoining those times when we return to the beach.

The soul and the roar of water

At the beach one can sit on the sand any time of the day or night and get almost the same feeling. The waves break in the foreground, and the roar of bigger waves cresting and falling back into the water can be heard in the background. The constant sound accompanies the smell of seawater - a little salt, a little fish, a little seaweed. Moisture can be felt on the face. And that sensual experience gets the mind to churning... mostly of longing. The best memories of one's life appear in the mind's eye in slow motion, and pleasantness curves the lips into a smile. Hope returns to the mind to lighten the spirits... All is well with the soul!

Mental meandering along a shoreline

When I take vacations, I am attracted to the mountains and to the water. I really don't like vacations in cities. I like the more open spaces. So, when I go to the mountains, I seek those out-of-the-way cabins, away from the madding crowd. And, when I go to the ocean, I love to walk along the shoreline, waves lapping across the tops of my feet. If I could go this summer, I would go this time to the ocean.

I love the way the horizon stretches out from one end of the ocean to the other, nothing but refreshing water in sight, a hint of salt in the air, the gentle breeze through my hair and across the cheeks of my face. It inspires me to think of all that could be. It reminds me of all that has been. It instills within me a vision of what has been good in my life and all that could be a part of any future horizons.

The sand that gives way below my feet is comforting. It cushions my every step. It tingles as the sand gives way and allows me to walk more slowly as if to soak in every beautiful moment of the present, every sensational moment of the recent past. It helps to conjure every moment of laughter that meant so much, every vision that captured the hope of things to come.

So comforting... so alluring... so fully refreshing... the beach.