My Life in Words
My daughter came home from work today—having cared for an invalid who has the television on all the time, and exclaimed, “Is everyone young, beautiful, brilliant, and successful?!”
Yep, I’ve wondered the same thing.
This was on top of me being at the computer too long, and searching for ways to promote my blog and trying to learn about SEO, and looking at a recommended site, with articles such as Optimize your traffic, How to promote your blog. How to use Social Media, and who to follow if you want to be an entrepreneur, a coach, a successful business person, etc., etc., etc.
On top of that they had to post the net worth of these successful people, you know $$$, in the millions and billions.
I closed my laptop, and took my fried brain for a walk while humming, *“Summ-er-time, and the livin’ is easy. The fish are jumpin’ and the cotton is high.”*
It isn’t summer, but I’m dreaming about it.
It sounds strange to say that the Internet is a noisy place. But considering all the competition, the ads and popups, and clutter that comes before you get to where you are going, it feels as though someone has placed a bullhorn in my (I started to say your) right ear, blew the sound through my head, and sprayed it out the other side.
I didn’t want to blast your ears.
#Seth Godin says that the Internet is the nosiest communicating device that has ever been developed.
So, I sit and wonder how to find a quiet place where you and I can replenish our souls and calm our brain. That is if that’s what you want.
My grandpa said, “Life’s like licking honey off a thorn, it’s tricky, but you can do it.” (Nope, my grandfather didn’t say that I read it.)
Right now all is quiet. I am sitting here, letting my fingers talk to you while not licking honey off a thorn, but eating a salad of lettuce, cucumbers, avocado, onion, radishes, spears of apple, and pepitas, that is raw pumpkin seeds—a whole handful, no wonder this salad fills me up. The dressing is olive oil, salt pepper, and apple cider vinegar, simple, plain, my favorite.
I’m calm. My head is clear, and I am wondering how to find that quiet place in which to connect via a blog buried in a ton of other blogs, aka noise.
I was shocked this morning when my doctor said that people are evil.
I said, “No they’re not!”
“Well, he softened, “Maybe selfish and self-centered. I’ve heard enough people to get that idea.”
“You need to meet new people.”
I guess being a doctor, he hears a lot of complaints, but the medical community encourages it by asking “What brings you in today.”
These patients have physical challenges, and equally important are the emotional challenges that go along with it—or caused it, or is just hanging about as an irritant. Apply salve to both.
#Joanna Gaines posted an Instagram picture of her daughter’s sharpie pen drawing on her bathroom counter. It said, “Dear God, How are you doing today?”
She was courteous to God. She asked how He was doing. She didn’t ask for anything. She used a washable ink pen.
That doesn’t sound self-centered to me.
Everyone is self-centered, meaning they take care of themselves, like put on your oxygen mask first, then you can be of service to others.
Your number one job is to take care of yourself. That is not self-centered in a derogatory sense. People who don’t take care of themselves get sick, stressed, angry, depressed, fat, addicted, or other issues too numerous to mention.
You may wonder what I am talking about when I say the Sacred Path—although as I explained earlier, it is the path laid down by our ancestors to show us the way to go.
Perhaps I could explain it better by saying we are at this place in time because of our ancestors. We can read, we have a wealth of information out there that others have accumulated. We have time to think.
If we ate today, we’re lucky.
If we have a roof over our heads, we’re lucky.
A warm heater? That’s a luxury.
Don’t worry if you don’t have millions or billions in the bank; money makes life easier—for things it can buy, and the grander things like freedom and time, but who needs another pair of shoes?
By using the term The Sacred Path, I am not talking about a religious discipline, that’s your business, I am talking about the desire within many people to follow some heartfelt pull toward something greater than the minutiae of life.
This pull begins in different ways. Illnesses can kick it off. Our present openness to NED’s (Near Death Experiences) have given us a glimpse into another dimension. I can imagine that the person who had the NED would get catapulted onto the trail.
A moment of Awe can bring some to an understanding that life is grander than they had imagined.
Books can begin a person’s spiritual journey, as can a piece of music. And it can be prompted by depression, boredom, or a university course.
So while our ancestors--I’m thinking way-back, like 5,000 years or more when people began to write on clay tablets. These ancient souls had a glimpse into eternity, and they endeavored to preserve it on clay tablets, later on, on papyrus, then paper, and now the World Wide Web.
They pointed to a path; our job is to forge it into a highway.
“One of these mornings you’re gonna rise up singing…”*
*Summertime from Porgy and Bess, George Gershwin
How about a little help from my friends.
I must sell 200 copies of my book or they will drop me like a S'More too long on the fire.
Find the cheapest book The Frog's Song available, Kindle, physical copy. I don’t care for I’m more interested in book sale numbers than money.
Make sure you get the correct Frog Book, there is one that sells for $135.00.
The Frog's Song by Joyce Davis
I know new books are terribly expensive we can’t help it, it’s the nature of the printing process.
However, look at it this way:
The Frog’s Song is worth every penny.
It took ten years to hit the shelves!
Ha ha, I love you guys whether you buy my book or not.. People who stop here are the greatest.
For more information on The Frog's Song, I invite you to click on https://thefrogssong.com
'Joyce's travels have taken her beyond the shores of her native continent, but she's back where she started, in Oregon.