There’s no better thing on this Earth than to be a ten year old boy with a fishing rod, a lake and no responsibility. The little guy in this photo ran into frame and had nothing on his mind except for getting a hook in the water. I was struck by the thought of a “Reel Life”. That’s not a typo. Reel life should always be part of real life and it’s only going to happen in “Reel Time”. Even if you’re not interested fishing at least make time to get close to nature. Human beings are just as much a part of this planet as any other wildlife. The time spent in fresh air and sunshine is not just good for the body but it also does wonders for the soul.
Tag: quiet time
The Next Tomorrow
Sometimes when I am feeling stressed and just want the day to be over I try to take a deep breath and look at the big picture. I call it the “Next Tomorrow” theory. It’s not about procrastination. Procrastination only makes things worse. Procrastination gives problems time to build up a little problem army so that they can jump you all at once. The idea comes from the thought that its tomorrow already. The next tomorrow I can enjoy life if I get things accomplished today. The next tomorrow is just around the bend in the rails and I really don’t have much time to wait or waste.
Finding Home
It’s not about the size of room.
It’s not about the paint on the wall.
It’s not about the leaky roof or the creaky gate.
It’s being here with you that makes it home.
The Memory Of A River
From foundation of the world I came forth. Yes, I know the voice of God Almighty.
I remember the time before your ancestors came. And the time before those who first walked here.
As the ages passed this bounty was my joy to provide. My purpose in creation was providence.
I remember your laughter along my shores.
I know the names of every young boy who laid aside his responsibly to draw a fish from my waters.
I remember when your young maidens played and danced here.
I have worked without rest to deliver the boat and it’s cargo. My strength is yours to command.
I remember your struggles and the days when brother killed brother.
I remember the hard times when you had very little money and yet so much joy.
Today, I weep with you for I remember the things which you have forgotten.
Perhaps, if you can just put away your little black gazing box for a little while. Put it back in your pocket and pull the wires from your ears.
Gaze on my shores instead. Listen to the songs of birds and insects in the day. And, the frogs and crickets by night.
Do your legs remember running? Can you still feel the joy of racing the wind along my shores?
The melting ice will soon give way to a blanket of moss.
The warm sun will awaken the bloom and color will return.
Awaken yourself. Return to me. Come and play in my waters.
I am the River.
A Gathering
Friends gather to enjoy the warm sun and retell old stories. Perhaps he’ll recount the story about escaping from a hungry bird. She’ll tell the one about the sweetest bloom ever. There’s love and laughter in the warm sun. There will be a game of chase and spectacular aerial dances between sips of nectar. Life returns to the meadow and all is right with the world.
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