Who we are

Oh thoughts are floating around the lake today, that questioning voice that chatters on and on.
Who am I? That is what ripples to the surface again and again. It is a theme that repeats itself  in the depths where I often swim. Today I also wonder if others have that same question drifting around in their heads.
Once long ago, when the chatter centered around the same question, I wrote my thoughts in a journal. I wish I'd dated the entry, but my best guess is that it was written more than 30 years ago. So that tells you I'm still in search mode when it comes to having an answer.
Anyway, these are the words that surfaced that day.
I am me
I am not someones child
Or someones wife
Or someones friend
I am myself and
That is harder to
be than all the others

When you are someones child
They can tell you who you are
Even a husband can or a friend.
But if you are yourself
Only you can tell

Well I don't know quite where I was going with that and I see I didn't list someones mother, which I certainly was at the time and I still am. I think I've made some progress since those days of thinking that it is hard to be myself. Truth is, that is all we can ever be.
And ever so slowly, the awareness that who I am is far greater than I imagined -- that who we all are is much grander -- is seeping into my consciousness.
Perhaps that is what I'd write today. That the question is not so much who am I? It is am I willing to except that who I am is OK, not just OK but really pretty good. Well maybe on some days, in some quiet peaceful moments when all is right with the world I am open to the idea of accepting.
Gee, I make it hard I think. So for now I'll just be content to be the me that wonders who I am and wait patiently for an answer. Perhaps in 30 more years, I'll have it.

Feels like Fall

There is a cool breeze blowing through my bedroom window this morning. It carries the slightest hint of Fall on its wing. I am so ready for the change in seasons, ready for it to slow down and cool off.
I don't what it is about this time of year that sets off my nesting instinct. Maybe something from ancient days when people, like squirrels, prepared for winter by storing up for the long cold days ahead.
Now I'm not running around my yard burying accorns, but I do think I'll spend part of my day "unburying" all my autumn paraphernalia, and there is a lot of it, collected over the years from every Dollar Store and Wal Mart in driving distance.
I have wreaths for the doors, all gold, orange and red leaf covered. There are rust-colored coffee cups decorated with accorns and more bright leaves. I have place mats and pot holders and rugs and baskets and candles and lots of other things I won't remember until I dive into the closet and unearth them.
It will be a mission of discovery, especially when I come upon something I don't remember buying, and I always come upon something I don't remember buying.
Perhaps putting all of this in place will hasten the season's arrival. At least it will put me in a Fall state of mind when that cool breeze turns back into a humid wind, which it surely will as summer struggles against saying its farewell.
For now, I'm sipping my coffee and smiling as the chill bumps pop up on my bare arms (doesn't take much to cause them to appear). Hey, a squirrel just stopped in the midst of accorn burying, looked right at me and gave me what looked like a smile. Ah, he knows it too -- Fall is in the air this morning.

Blogging away

Well, I've done it -- created a blog. So that means I'm supposed to post stuff, share thoughts, comments, ramblings.
Perhaps my first post should say something about why I want to blog. Well, I seem to be blessed with lots of words. They float around in my head and organize themselves into sentences, paragraphs and on and on. I guess if you are born with words in your head, you have a desire to get them out into the world.
A blog seems a nice way to set some of them free.
So join me on this journey into the world of blogging. Who knows what we might stumble upon along the way.