JT's been of the habit of calling me "Chester" lately, because I have a hitch in my git-along when tired. It's an odd thing, since my stroke I've got a few little things: my smile's crooked but adorable; I limp sometimes; my driving's really quite different from what it used to be; my voice is much softer; I'm really much sweeter, though this can be provoked [I assume this list goes on!]
Anyway, you know how it is, when someone calls you something, and you know its meaning *suddenly* you act on it! I'm this way in spades - you know, when we're biking, and JT says "Darn this head wind," I suddenly struggle where before I might have been blissfully unaware of it. What's really interesting about this, he says he's more likely to say "Isn't this headwind cool and refreshing," and I hear ... well, you know.
So just a little note from Aunt Chester, "Don't call me Chester!"
Whenever someone offers to pray for me, I make note. This is someone who has *some* sort of experience with prayer. I've in the past asked specifically for the prayers of these folks - for jobs, health related issues, you know things that are way too big for the usual heave-ho of human endeavor!
Most recently I've been blessed by the prayers of possibly hundreds of folks. This was when I endured a hemorrhagic stroke which would surely have killed me with the slightest deviation from *what did happen.*
On seeing these folks (now it's 1.5 years later,) they're all grateful for the results of their prayerful efforts, and laugh earnestly at those of us who just don't get it. I confess, I'm not sure even today that *I* get it; but I sure know who to turn to, when I'm in need of a prayer.
Sadness. Grief and sorrow - not quite sadness, but almost, being the heart's rendering of that pain. Blake, Keats, Isaak Walton and Longellow are all quoted - yet it's the baby's first cry that clinches it all. "Why am I here?"
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Sadness - we all experience it. Lovers know it. The poor may begrudge not having - yet the wealthy may be sad for the very having of it. One may gaze upon a sunset and yet know only his deepest sorrow. Another, amidst the joy of celebration feels only emptiness.
Sadness ... Sadness.
["from Out from Eden," by P.L. Travers; Parabola Vol. XI, No. 3]
You know what I notice is, the briefer and more cogent blogs get read! I can't believe that this is something that occurs to me just now. Amazing, but true, those blogs where many (though brilliant) words are used to say a thing, get skimmed by so many visitors. This is so sad, but I fear so true.
So here's my befuddling conundrum: how to hold a person's attention, yet how to do it quickly. Seems to me, this is the work of one who's really skilled. Since I'm not yet that person, I'll keep at it - and hope you'll all bear with me!
There's yet another new blog afoot at http://www.merchantcircle.com... where I've been writing specifically stuff that might be of interest to the sorts of folks that I'd love to attract to my practice.
It's interesting how my practice dwindled to practically nothing, and now is coming back from the dead. Seems that I'm no longer welcome to practice at RU, a situation that followed the closing of RU Clinics. I sure hope that turns itself around. During this Spring Semester, I've been working full time (yeah! and taking speech therapy such that by the end of the semester, I'm declared no longer aphasic!) Besides that, I've started seeing a couple of folks who are brand new to me, one has moved to Spain, the other continues even as we speak.
So my fee is such that wherever I am, that's how I have the clientele address their checks - not wanting the money to enter my personal holdings, since I'm already being paid FT. As always, this is my deal with the universe.
Should you drop by here, consider visiting my blog there! WELCOME!!