Shades of Gray from Grayson Co, TX #860 – OUR HANDS

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I have always been aware of my hands. From an early age as I viewed my hands outstretched in front of me, I somehow felt that the image of my hands would always be there. That one would be able to frame the present through those same hands and measure the passage of time by seeing the change upon the frame.

My hands now carry the scars and memories of my life. As do most everyones. I have always heard that the eyes are the window to our soul, but I believe the hands expose a more detailed view of our story.

My hands are stiffening with age. They carry the pain of arthritis. Having never thrown a punch in my life, I still somehow question how I could even have the grip to toss a baseball, much less a punch.

Deadheading flowers in the garden is about as tough a foe as I deal with.

It is a marvel to find details of life within the wrinkles of time.

What story do your hands tell?…monos en theos…†…jim

IMAGES OF SMALL – THINGS FROM THE BIGGEST COUNTY IN TEXAS #663 – Finding your road.

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“Part of everyone’s journey in life is to arrive at precipice or fork in the road or at the end of a path and to realize we no longer know our way. Hard as this is, this is where the inner journey begins, when all we’ve carried has served its purpose and now we must burn it for warmth and to see what’s next. This is when the soul shows itself, if we will listen. This is when we assume our full stature and make our own path.”  Mark Nepo

Midway in Our Journey

“Just when we’re softened by the years,

when we have enough experience to see

for ourselves, our maps are torn from us.

This can be frightening, but there’s

divine timing in the dissolution of a

stubborn mind, the way an inlet waits

on the last rock to crumble so it can

find its destiny in the sea. Losing the

way set out by others is necessary so we

can discover for ourselves what it means

to be alive. Now we can burn the clothes

others have laid out for us, not in anger

but to light our way. Now we can let the

soul spill its honey on the unleavened life

we’ve been carrying. Now we can rise. ”  ©Mark Nepo

I have gotten part of this down, “the softening of the years” that part I am coming into peace with. The rest is coming, but it is still a little further down the road.

Hit those high notes while you still have the voice. ††† en theos ††† jim

IMAGES OF SMALL THINGS FROM THE BIGGEST COUNTY IN TEXAS #615 – OLD FRIENDS ARE THE BEST FRIENDS

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Stories still to be told, hugs, smiles yet to be given. Cherish them if you got em.

“Age appears to be best in four things; old wood best to burn, old wine to drink, old friends to trust, and old authors to read.”
Francis Bacon

Hug one today. ††† en theos ††† jimwork

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IMAGES OF SMALL THINGS FROM THE BIGGEST COUNTY IN TEXAS #605 – SHADOW PORTRAIT AND POEM

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LINGER WITH YOUR SHADOWS

The air grows cooler as the sun draws closer.

Days grow shorter and the shadows lengthen

When it was much earlier at the same time of day

our shadows were closer

not quite so far away.

No wrinkles or signs of age

just me, wife and our dogs as we linger

We move yet a little slower

and our shadows grow even longer

moving as fast now as if it was yesterday.      jim work

Try and linger just a bit with the ones you love  ††† en theos ††† jim

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IMAGES OF SMALL THINGS FROM THE BIGGEST COUNTY IN TEXAS #593 – Leaves fall atop our lives.

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 Men Improve with the Years

I AM worn out with dreams;
A weather-worn, marble triton
Among the streams;
And all day long I look
Upon this lady’s beauty
As though I had found in a book
A pictured beauty,
Pleased to have filled the eyes
Or the discerning ears,
Delighted to be but wise,
For men improve with the years;
And yet, and yet,
Is this my dream, or the truth?
O would that we had met
When I had my burning youth!
But I grow old among dreams,
A weather-worn, marble triton
Among the streams. 
William Butler Yeats

 

A nice fall morning, no sunrise, covered in clouds that drift into and over my heart. Questions of dreams dropped by Yeats weigh upon me. ††† en theos ††† jimwork

IMAGES OF SMALL THINGS FROM THE BIGGEST COUNTY IN TEXAS #590 – and what you got to complain about!

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We had a wonderful weekend hanging with some old friends. We shared our scars and talked of our aches, pains and complaints. On our way home, we stopped to visit with truly an old friend who is now living in a nursing home.

She greeted us warmly just like our other friends. Pushing ninety, she knew of true aches and pains, but had no complaints. My aches and pains paled and my small bit of arthritis became non existent in comparison.

I savored her hugs, her zest, the twinkle still in her faded blue eyes. I enjoyed her smell of age and each and every scar she shared.

Sometimes, we get to see how good we have it. It takes away a lot of what you think is an ache or a pain. en theos ††† jimwork