Trail pieces

As I walked the back trails this morning of my river, I think about life. I look ahead me and behind me and realize that the only thing I can see is bits of the trail, just what lies before me and just my immediate future. There are times when I can just barely make out te next part of the trail because it is so new and unused. I have to pick up clues like slightly moved stones and lighlty worn places where feet have been. But when I look behind me te trail is much more clear-seeif where I've been. This is life. I have to discerningly pick up clues, watch for signs and decide which way is best to go on a new path. And when I look behind me I can see where I've been and how each choice I took brought me where I am now. Sometimes I can see that there was an easier path- but I couldn't see it from where I was. And that's okay. I am where I am and I can see it now. I'll know next time I come this way.  

Life. And birds. 

Behind me I can see....

What I couldn't see before me....

children...

I walk into the living room and my sister tells me about the 4th graders in NY who were plotting to kill their teacher with hand sanitizer because she is allergic to it.... while NCIS is showing body bags and talking shootings on the TV in the foreground.
This makes me really know TV is a major player in the US's issues. No child would think of that, unless they saw it somewhere. Sure, there are sick children, there always have been, but the desensitized children in the US are this way because they see death in a myriad of ways on the television every day, on all channels. Even on the 'kids' channels, there are thing said that no one should say- mean things, hurtful things, and they are passed off as just words.
But when do words become truths in a child's brain, and then action, because they are so use to having that thought?
No more TV for us when we move. Netflix for cooking shows and nature programs. End of story. More knitting, less violence.

stitching

There are days when events make me want certain things. Rite now, for sure, it is sleep, and comfort.
The 'heart' is not a thing. There is no solid state in which we can label the 'feelings of the heart' good and not good.
I opened that broken place that my 18 year old shut up safely, and it hasn't turned out so well. I wonder if people can change, I wonder if things can truly be better and good.
But for now, I withdraw. I just sit here, on a rock near a ledge, looking over a valley and wonder. And wait.
Will this just numb out and go away? Will I be surprised? Will I learn some new way of being in this non solid state of 'Love and Heart'?
Who knows..
Not me.
Solid Life daily motions call.
I will dwell there, and Look at this stitching thread made of fear and memory in my hand... and not want to pick up the needle with which to start the sewing...