This site is dedicated to logging my life, thoughts, likes and dislikes. Be sure to check out my other sites, which are located in my sidebars with the latest content. I look forward to seeing what you have to say in the comments. I hope that this site will be an encouragement, a wealth of information and a comfort to those who read it. Thank you for coming by and be sure to leave a comment.
Sincerely,
Alison
I have not had much to write about lately, so today, I thought that I would share with you one of my favorite Edgar Allan Poe poems. Most people know him because of “The Raven” and some other short stories that he wrote, but this poem that I will share with you now is one of my favorite works from him. Please enjoy!
To Helen
I saw thee once – once only – years ago;
I must not say how many – but not many.
It was a July midnight; and from out
A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring,
Sought a precipitate pathway up through heaven,
There fell a silvery-silken veil of light,
With quietude, and sultriness, and slumber,
Upon the upturn’d faces of a thousand
Roses that grew in an enchanted garden,
Where no wind dared to stir, unless on tiptoe –
Fell on the upturn’d faces of these roses
That gave out, in return for the love-light,
Their odorous souls in an ecstatic death –
Fell on the upturn’d faces of these roses
That smiled and died in this parterre, enchanted
By thee, and by the poetry of thy presence.
Clad all in white, upon a violet bank
I saw thee half reclining; while the moon
Fell on the upturn’d faces of the roses,
And on thine own, upturn’d – alas, in sorrow!
Was it not Fate that, on this July midnight –
Was it not Fate (whose name is also Sorrow),
that bade me pause before that garden-gate,
To breathe the incense of thsoe slumbering roses?
No footsteps stirred; the hated world all slept,
Save only thee and me. I paused – I looked –
And in an instant all things disappeared.
(Ah, bear in mind this garden was enchanted!)
The pearly lustre of the moon went out;
The mossy banks and the meandering paths,
The happy flowers and the repining trees,
Were seen no more: the very roses’ odors
Died in the arms of the adoring airs.
All – all expired save thee – save less than thou:
Save only the divine light in thine eyes –
Save but the soul in thine uplifted eyes.
I saw but them – they were the world to me.
I saw buth them – saw only them for hours –
Saw only them until the moon went down.
What wild heart-histories seemed to lie enwritten
Upon those crystalline, celestial spheres!
How dark a woe! yet how sublime a hope!
How silently serene a sea of pride!
How daring an ambition! yet how deep –
How fathomless a capacity for love!
But now, at length, dear Dian snak from sight,
Into a western couch of thunder-cloud;
And thou, a ghost, amid the entombing trees
Didst glide away. Only thine eyes remained.
They would not go – they never yet have gone.
Lighting my lonely pathway home that night,
They have not left me (as my hopes have) since.
They follow me – they lead me through the years.
They are my ministers – yet I their slave.
Their office is to illumine and enkindle –
My duty, to be saved by their bright light,
And purified in their electric fire,
And sanctified in their Elysian fire.
They fill my soul with Beauty (which is Hope),
And are far up in heaven – the stars I kneel to
In the sad, silent watches of my night;
While even in the meridian glare of day
I see them still – two sweetly scintillant
Venuses, unextinguished by the sun!
My favorite verse in this poem is, “How fathomless a capacity for love!”. I can just picture the scene and it is beautifully saddening, yet like a blissful dream. I always wanted to be admired like the lady in this poem was. To be so beautiful that an enchanted garden would pale in comparison. I use to sit on my balcony, reading this poem, in the summer evening and imagine how he must have felt. The longing he had brings the deep romantic in me to life.
Growing up with this and other images of love and admiration helped me to hold out for my one true love, which came to me when I was 26 and he was everything that I had hoped for. This poem captures a moment in time, but what I got, is a lifetime.
There are others that I love to read, but this one has always been my favorite. Let me know what you think and what your favorite Edgar Allan Poe writings are.
Okay, this may sound odd to some, but sometimes when I am having a hard time getting to sleep at night… my husband walks me through some visualizations – and it works. Last night was one of those nights.
It all started one night about a week ago, when I just couldn’t go to sleep because I was feeling somewhat overwhelmed by life situations. I was trying to describe how I felt to him and it came out as images. I told him that I saw in my mind, a cube. This cube was very dark, cold and hard. The cube seemed to be made of a smooth metal that looked like Onyx. All around this cube was a light airy mist, which was cool – kind of like air conditioning. I told him that the cube represented the stress and pressure and the airy mist represented the peace I felt. He then walked me through looking at those images in a different way, which got my mind off of what was behind the images and made me relax enough to go to sleep.
So, last night, my thoughts were many and it wasn’t allowing me to get any sleep… so we thought to try this again. He told me to think of a large cube that was shiny, hovering just above the ground while spinning on its point. Well, that is about as far as I got. Sometimes I guess I just need something more focused to think about rather then the stresses of the day. It sure beats taking Ambien CR. The doctors put me on that when I lost my babies, to help me sleep… but it made me hallucinate, so I stopped taking it.
Sometimes, I have him read to me out of the Bible, but that gets me excited and puts me into study mode… so it is kind of counter-productive.
In the past, when I couldn’t sleep… I would make my body really still and imagine relaxing myself from my toes up. I would take it really slow, imagining a massage because I was a massage therapist. I would normally be asleep by the time I got to my knees.
Someone once told me that if you have trouble sleeping, then to concentrate on keeping your tongue still. Apparently, when you are thinking deeply to the point of not being able to sleep, you move your tongue and if you can focus on keeping that still, one: you won’t be thinking about the other stuff and two: your tongue movement won’t keep you awake. It worked for a while.
Every night, I have to have music playing in the background with a fan blowing for white noise. If it is too quiet then I cannot sleep, but also, if I can hear things outside, I cannot sleep… go figure! In the wintertime, coyotes come around, even to our back fence and it bothers me… this is the first reason we started sleeping with a fan on. Sometimes they are so loud out there that even the fan doesn’t drown them out. I worry all the time about the little animals out there and I always pray for them and that God will keep the coyotes away… normally when I do, they go and if I don’t they seem to stay longer. The scary thing is that we have bobcats around here too. I have only seen one once, but our mayor has seen them around his house a few times.
Anyway, I just thought that I would share how shapes seem to help me sleep lately and if you are having trouble sleeping, you might want to try it. You have to really imagine them, the way they look, feel, whether they are solid or liquid, size, etc. It works for me, let me know if it works for you.
My husband started a discussion the other day regarding the Myers-Briggs personality test. You can see what you rank by Clicking Here. So, I thought that I would share my results with you here. My test says that I rank as an “ISFJ”, which means the following:
ISFJs are characterized above all by their desire to serve others, their “need to be needed.” In extreme cases, this need is so strong that standard give-and-take relationships are deeply unsatisfying to them; however, most ISFJs find more than enough with which to occupy themselves within the framework of a normal life. (Since ISFJs, like all SJs, are very much bound by the prevailing social conventions, their form of “service” is likely to exclude any elements of moral or political controversy; they specialize in the local, the personal, and the practical.)
ISFJs are often unappreciated, at work, home, and play. Ironically, because they prove over and over that they can be relied on for their loyalty and unstinting, high-quality work, those around them often take them for granted–even take advantage of them. Admittedly, the problem is sometimes aggravated by the ISFJs themselves; for instance, they are notoriously bad at delegating (“If you want it done right, do it yourself”). And although they’re hurt by being treated like doormats, they are often unwilling to toot their own horns about their accomplishments because they feel that although they deserve more credit than they’re getting, it’s somehow wrong to want any sort of reward for doing work (which is supposed to be a virtue in itself). (And as low-profile Is, their actions don’t call attention to themselves as with charismatic Es.) Because of all of this, ISFJs are often overworked, and as a result may suffer from psychosomatic illnesses.
In the workplace, ISFJs are methodical and accurate workers, often with very good memories and unexpected analytic abilities; they are also good with people in small-group or one-on-one situations because of their patient and genuinely sympathetic approach to dealing with others. ISFJs make pleasant and reliable co-workers and exemplary employees, but tend to be harried and uncomfortable in supervisory roles. They are capable of forming strong loyalties, but these are personal rather than institutional loyalties; if someone they’ve bonded with in this way leaves the company, the ISFJ will leave with them, if given the option. Traditional careers for an ISFJ include: teaching, social work, most religious work, nursing, medicine (general practice only), clerical and and secretarial work of any kind, and some kinds of administrative careers.
While their work ethic is high on the ISFJ priority list, their families are the centers of their lives. ISFJs are extremely warm and demonstrative within the family circle–and often possessive of their loved ones, as well. When these include Es who want to socialize with the rest of the world, or self-contained ITs, the ISFJ must learn to adjust to these behaviors and not interpret them as rejection. Being SJs, they place a strong emphasis on conventional behavior (although, unlike STJs, they are usually as concerned with being “nice” as with strict propriety); if any of their nearest and dearest depart from the straight-and-narrow, it causes the ISFJ major embarrassment: the closer the relationship and the more public the act, the more intense the embarrassment (a fact which many of their teenage children take gleeful advantage of). Over time, however, ISFJs usually mellow, and learn to regard the culprits as harmless eccentrics :-). Needless to say, ISFJs take infinite trouble over meals, gifts, celebrations, etc., for their loved ones–although strong Js may tend to focus more on what the recipient should want rather than what they do want.
Like most Is, ISFJs have a few, close friends. They are extremely loyal to these, and are ready to provide emotional and practical support at a moment’s notice. (However, like most Fs they hate confrontation; if you get into a fight, don’t expect them to jump in after you. You can count on them, however, run and get the nearest authority figure.) Unlike with EPs, the older the friendship is, the more an ISFJ will value it. One ISFJ trait that is easily misunderstood by those who haven’t known them long is that they are often unable to either hide or articulate any distress they may be feeling. For instance, an ISFJ child may be reproved for “sulking,” the actual cause of which is a combination of physical illness plus misguided “good manners.” An adult ISFJ may drive a (later ashamed) friend or SO into a fit of temper over the ISFJ’s unexplained moodiness, only afterwards to explain about a death in the family they “didn’t want to burden anyone with.” Those close to ISFJs should learn to watch for the warning signs in these situations and take the initiative themselves to uncover the problem.
As for ISTJs, the dominant Si is oriented toward the world of forms, essences, generics. Again, “for both of the IS_J types, the sense of propriety comes from the clear definition of these internal forms. … A ‘proper’ chair has four legs,” etc. (Jung saw IS as something of an oxymoron: sensing, which is a perceiving function, focused inward and thus away from that which is perceived (the “object”). In this light, he described this sensing as something removed from reality, full of archetypes/mythical figures/hobgoblins; sensing of one’s own set of forms.)
Extraverted Feeling
A kind of “regression toward the mean” provided by the Fe auxiliary function serves to socialize the expression of these forms. I suppose it’s the auxiliary nature of this Feeling, coupled with the balancing effect of {detachment from the internal idiosyncratic view of free-floating data perceptions} that makes ISFJs tentative, conservative, and reticent to boldly state the rights and wrongs in the relational world. (Loosely translated, ISFJs like to keep their perceptions to themselves, and aren’t sure enough that what they “see” as Introverted Sensors has any relevance to the outside world. Thus the perception, based on unworldly data, may not be true. The obedient Extraverted Feeling function must therefore refrain from strong statements expressing these opinions.)
Introverted Thinking
Introverted Thinking is turned inward and is largely invisible. It is only with great difficulty, if at all, that the ISFJ could willingly commit anyone to their doom. Perhaps this explains why ISFJs are loyal to the end; there is no sense of purely objective (i.e., impersonal) judgement of anyone but themselves (and that only by their own standards). Here is this type’s achilles heel that makes many of them so vulnerable to the scoundrels and ne’er-do-wells who often use and abuse them.
Extraverted iNtuition
ISFJs are easily undone by Extraverted iNtuition, their inferior function. Believing in the fantastic, and disbelieving the technologically extant, are errors that my guide the gullible (or unfoundedly sceptical) ISFJ off a precipice of mis-conclusion. (One of our co-workers’ mothers adamantly refused to believe that Dave Letterman’s mom was actually at the olympics in Norway talking with the athletes and handing out hams! She suspected technological trickery.)
This childlike Ne is, however, the likely source (coupled with fun-loving Extraverted Feeling) of the practical joking, punning and (usually harmless) impishness of some ISFJs.
Famous ISFJs:
St. Teresa of Avila (Teresa de Jesus)
Louisa May Alcott
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
Queen Elizabeth II of England
Robert E. Lee
Queen Mary I (“Bloody Mary”) of England
Fictional:
Bianca in Taming of the Shrew
David Copperfield
Hero in Much Ado About Nothing
Melanie in Gone With The Wind
Ophelia in Hamlet
Dr. John H. Watson, M.D. (Sherlock Holmes’ faithful sidekick)
U.S. Presidents:
William Howard Taft
Johnny Carson, comedian
Robin Roberts (Good Morning America)
Kristi Yamaguchi, US Olympic figure skater
Ed Bradley, journalist
Also, another take on the ISFJ personality profile is listed Here. This one states the following:
Guardian™ Portrait of the Protector (ISFJ) Wanting to be of service to others, Protectors find great satisfaction in assisting the downtrodden, and can deal with disability and neediness in others better than any other type. They are not as outgoing and talkative as the Provider Guardians [ESFJs], and their shyness is often misjudged as stiffness, even coldness, when in truth Protectors are warm-hearted and sympathetic, giving happily of themselves to those in need.
Their reserve ought really to be seen as an expression of their sincerity and seriousness of purpose. The most diligent of all the types, Protectors are willing to work long, hard hours quietly doing all the thankless jobs that others manage to avoid. Protectors are quite happy working alone; in fact, in positions of authority they may try to do everything themselves rather than direct others to get the job done. Thoroughness and frugality are also virtues for them. When Protectors undertake a task, they will complete it if humanly possible. They also know better than any other type the value of a dollar, and they abhor the squandering or misuse of money. To save, to put something aside against an unpredictable future, to prepare for emergencies-these are actions near and dear to the Protector’s heart. For all these reasons, Protectors are frequently overworked, just as they are frequently misunderstood and undervalued. Their contributions, and also their economies, are often taken for granted, and they rarely get the gratitude they deserve.
Mother Teresa, George H.W. Bush, Jimmy Steward, and Tsar Nicholas II are examples of Protector Guardian style.
We are lucky that Protectors make up as much as ten percent the population, because their primary interest is in the safety and security of those they care about – their family, their circle of friends, their students, their patients, their boss, their fellow-workers, or their employees. Protectors have an extraordinary sense of loyalty and responsibility in their makeup, and seem fulfilled in the degree they can shield others from the dirt and dangers of the world. Speculating and experimenting do not intrigue Protectors, who prefer to make do with time-honored and time-tested products and procedures rather than change to new. At work Protectors are seldom happy in situations where the rules are constantly changing, or where long-established ways of doing things are not respected. For their part, Protectors value tradition, both in the culture and in their family. Protectors believe deeply in the stability of social ranking conferred by birth, titles, offices, and credentials. And they cherish family history and enjoy caring for family property, from houses to heirlooms.
According to This Site, I am well suited for the following jobs:
Health Care Administration, Medical/Dental Assistant, Nursing, Radiologic Technician
If you take the personality profile test, feel free to let me know what you scored. It is interesting to see how close the results actually are. Mine are pretty much on the nose, how about yours?
Also, if you would like, you can check out my husband’s post regarding this topic, Here, and list your score in the comments. Once you do that, he will add you to the list he has compiled there on his site, along with your blog in the category you fall under.
This weekend is a holiday weekend to honor those who have fought for our freedom. My grandfather is one of those men. My grandfather’s name was Clarence Adam Cordell. He died on Jan. 4, 1964 at the age of 47, barely. (Dec. 10, 1917 – Jan. 4, 1964) S/SGT USAF
My grandfather was in the airforce and was stationed all over the world. He died in San Diego, California. He is laid to rest at the Fort Rosecrans National Cemetary in Plot: X 862, which overlooks the ocean. His plot is at the top of a hill near a cliff.
My husband and I lived in San Diego for about 2 1/2 years and it was then that I was able to go and see where my grandfather was buried. His grave site is in a great place with an absolutly beautiful view. I imagined what his funeral must have been like. My grandfather died way before I was born, so I never got to know him.
From the stories that I have heard, my grandfather was stationed at Roswell before the UFO “incident” and was relocated shortly before it happened. Oh, the stories I might have heard, had he stayed there. Hmmm…
Below are some pictures of the cemetery which can be found on Wikipedia.
I wish I could include actual pictures of where he lies, but we moved before being able to go back to take pictures, so this is the best I can find. These pictures do not do it justice though.
I have another grandfather who served in the airforce as well, but I don’t have any information on him other than his name, Joseph Medina. I never knew him either because he died before I was born as well.
Sadly, I have heard that my grandpa Cordell may not have been a Christian, so I may never get to meet him… My other grandpa, grandpa Joe was a Christian, so I look forward to the day that I get to meet him.
Well, I wish that I had more to say about them, but I really don’t know very much. My grandpa Joe apparently had a building named after him at a Southern California college because he became a professor. Little tid-bits don’t exactly make a whole picture, just a puzzle.
Today I was looking at some old 1980’s decade things like commercials, cartoons, etc. Well, I came across the Monchhichi dolls and cartoon intro:
I just got a huge kick out of this. I use to have one and I loved it dearly. When I was 6 years old, my school had this sale day where kids would go to this room and there would be all kinds of fun things for them to choose. The kid would mark down everything that they wanted, then their parents would fill out another sheet of what they could have. The parent would then send that form with a check to the school and the kid would get whatever their parent let them.
Well, my older cousin also went to my school. I was in 1st grade and she was in 6th grade. The school would have the 6th graders team up with a 1st grader to help them fill out the sheets. Well, apparently my cousin warned her class about me… that I would want everything that I saw… I proved her right.
I was teamed up with a boy in her class and he walked me around the tables, writing everything that I wanted… pretty much everything that was not for boys. When I was done, he said that my cousin said that my mom said that I could only have one thing. I was so sad. To his dismay, at this point, because my options were now very limited, I would have to rewalk the tables and narrow it down to one item. The poor boy was visably upset about this, but he did it anyway.
As you can probably tell, I picked the Monchhichi doll. My doll had a thumb to suck and also a bananna in the other hand that he could put in his mouth.
I kept that doll for many years. I have moved a lot and it probably was sold at a garage sale at some point. I wish that I would have kept it, but there are a lot of nastalgic things I wish that I had still. I wonder how many others enjoyed their Monchhichi dolls as much as I did.
I write this in the midst of the passionate flurry of emotions from the events which unfolded just moments ago. My heart still races within my chest and my head is still high with adrenaline. I was sitting on the couch, minding my own business while trying to destress from the sibling rivalry between my cats earlier… when I happen to look up at the light colored wall before me, only to see – to my absolute horror, a huge wolf spider sprawled out in full fashion as if to taunt me the he indeed existed and was here to take over my domain.
With a screech I jumped up, out of my comfortable and once believing safe haven, to take a closer look. Frantically, I raced through many thoughts of action. First, I thought I could smash it with a fly swatter… that is until I got a good look at the fly swatter, only to eliminate it due to size combatibility, yes I meant “combat-ability”.
Next I thought of squashing it with a shoe… ah, yes – a shoe. So, I ran as fast as I could… making funny noises all the way so that my cats would follow in protection mode. Once I got to the shoes, I had to decide which shoe would work the best while protecting me at the same time from it running onto my hands and up my arms only to try and chew up my neck or face. (Yes, I know… a bit dramatic – but that is why you are still reading, lol)
So, sandals obviously will NOT work, and my shoes are too small for my state of mind. That only left my husband’s gigantic shoes (the’re huge compared to mine). I grabbed one of his tennis shoes and brought it to the scene, while examining its sole for comfort on the task ahead of me.
Once I got to the place of action, I realized that the enemy might be faster than me… Oh no! So, I ran to the kitchen to get the bug spray, panicking the entire time that the poison would hurt my cats. So, I tried my hardest to spray just the spider, as of course, it began to run toward me which made me scream even more.
My cats at this time were looking at me as though I had lost my mind. Ironically however, they didn’t even seem to notice the spider rushing closer to me. Once I had sprayed the spider adequately, and about a foot in every direction around it, I smashed it into bits with the shoe. Ah, relief!
Oh my, now I had to figure out how to clean up the poisonous spray, which was everywhere. I thought to myself, “I could use our Spotbot”. So, I ran and got the Spotbot but once I got back to the mess, I began to hear a sound that was not pleasant.
Apparently, in my frantic state, I had accidentally sprayed the extension cord which held cords to the television, cable box, VCR, DVD and stereo surround sound system. It was snap-crackle and popping, as well as making a sizzling sound. I tried to get to the plug in the wall, to unplug it, but there was a heavy corner table in the way. I didn’t want to touch the live wires, so I called my husband and he said he was on his way… he had left for the store earlier.
I ended up taking out a drawer to the corner table and reaching in to pull on another cord, which was wrapped around the one I wanted. This allowed me to reach the problem cord and yank it out from the wall. The sounds stopped.
Finally, my husband came home and helped me clean up the mess and dry out the cords. Boy, what a day. I haven’t even had my coffee to day. I think it’s time for a cat nap.
I came across this joke a little while back and it made me laugh soooo hard, so I wanted to share it here. The comedian is Anjelah Johnson and she captures it perfectly. For anyone who has ever gotten this done, this video will bring back memories. Enjoy!
A cup of coffee and a chat with friends… this is what I miss the most. I am reminded of past friends and joys, by a fellow blogger that I read. So, I thought that I would write about that today.
I enjoyed nothing more than sitting with a close friend, drinking coffee and chatting about everything and nothing all at once. Growing up, through my teens and early twenties, I had some very close friends… the kind that you always knew what the other was thinking and could have conversations without words, just with a look – you would know.
Over the years, life has changed, through moving and growing in different paths, but the memories stayed behind, for comfort, for strength, for joyful thoughts.
There is something to be said about drinking caffeine in a free and inspiring attmosphere with eclectic music playing in the background. Sharing memories, sharing thoughts, laughing until you cry… these are the memories that I recall. These memories make me sigh.
One other enjoyment that we would have, is watching the people come and go. People watching: The art of studying the habitual rotation of the human spieces in the act of their behavior, while wondering if the person watching is the same.
I remember at times, laughing so hard at something that didn’t really make any sense, all were sure that someone was going to explode coffee through their nose. Ah, the memories…
Nowdays, the lines are longer, the prices are higher and the friends are fewer. Starbucks once was the place to go… in fact, it was the only place to go, but now, competition moves in and the enjoyment comes again. There is a little place that has just opened up in this area called Saxby’s Coffee. They, Saxby’s, are what Starbucks once was and hopes to be again, though unlikely to be obtained by Starbucks.
The coffee is great, the employees are extremely nice and their consistancy is unbeatable. I guess this is what happens when you start getting older, rationalization. When you are younger, you could drink muddy water as long as there was good music and friends around. Not so for me now.
Now, the rationale kicks in to say…”If I am going to pay x amount of money for this cup of coffee, it better be worth it”. Oh my, how times have changed.
So, now we have a Kiereg coffee maker, which is the best appliance in our home. It makes one cup of either, coffee, tea or hot chocolate, at a time. It pre-brews the water so it is ready at all times. You buy these little cuplettes of your favorite flavor (they come in all kinds), place it into the dispenser, push the button and whola, your drink is served. Then the best part is that to clean it, you just trow the cuplette away and prestow, it’s clean! I am in coffee heaven!
Oh, did I mention it is much cheaper than going to a coffee house??? I still get all of the flavors I want. Granted, you don’t get to people watch, unless it is through the window or on tv, but hey, it’s practically free.
So now, if I need to, I can have my coffee while listening to whatever music I like, then if I want to people watch, I can go to the mall or something… they can be just as entertaining there. The only thing left, is to figure out the friend part, since I now live so far out of town, it would be a road trip to visit…
So, for now, I will enjoy my coffee while listening to my music and reading the blogs that I love to read and thinking of the memories that once were and the memories that will be…
Today is such a beautiful day that I just had to write about it. There is a nice breeze blowing in through the windows and the sun is shining, illuminating everything with it’s warm glow. The birds are singing and preparing their nests, while the cats are enjoying the view. I have some swing king music on, Chet Baker is playing right now… now it changed to Anita O’Day. Oh, what a perfect day!
This is the kind of day that makes me want to just go for a drive or walk in a park. There use to be this pond where I use to live that had ducks in it and birds all around… I would love to go there and feed them. On really nice days, you could normally find at least 5 – 10 families there feeding the ducks. It was always nice to see the small children having their first experience with an animal almost their size, being able to feed them right from their own hands.
Many times, I would share what bread I had, with them when they would run out – they would be so happy. It was a great place to take children that I was babysitting, they always loved it. We would always have a picnic there as well… ah, memories… Click here for Source picture
You know, I am beginning to notice how visually focused I am. By writing my blogs, I seem to always want to add images to my posts. I think it breaks it up and gives some color to my writing. Also, as they say, a picture is worth a 1,000 words, right? Well, I hope that everyone is having a great day. I am going to enjoy the weather and allow it to be a peaceful day.
I had previously gone to a forum that had a thread topic of “What is your favorite childhood memory”… So, I replied about mine and I thought I would share that here as well.
When I was younger, I would love to go outside at night because it was so much more peaceful and quiet than in the day time when everyone is running about. There was a place that I would like to go and lay down flat so that I could look up at the sky and see all of the vast array of stars.
As I would lay there in silience, I would think about how big I thought the universe was and if it were that big, how big is heaven beyond it. At times, I would feel myself grasping at the grass blades because it would feel as though I could at any moment, just float off into this black openess.
I really enjoyed at times, being able to look out and see the dome shape of our atmosphere by the galaxy line. That would only happen on very clear nights though.
I would think also about how small it made me feel and how big God must be to have been able to create such a huge amount of things and spaces. It really made me ponder on the power of God and how incredibly greatful I was for Him to care so much about someone so small (in the scheme of things).
Now when I look up and see all of the stars, I imagine how it will be when we are called to be with Him there. What will it feel like, how will it sound, what will I think, what will I say? The thoughts run through my mind like a slide show of images, trying to capture the moments as they might happen.
The thought of coming face to face with the One who created me, who knew me before I even existed is just mind blowing. I was talking with Bradley last night about how it may feel when He looks in our eyes, knowing that He ‘knows’ us through and through. We, I imagine, will be able to feel Him seeing into the very deepest parts of us, our thoughts, feelings, etc. It is just all so powerful and wonderful, it amazes me to no end.
I wonder what others see when they look up at the night sky on a very clear night… if they live where they can see the stars. Some may think about ufo’s and aliens, or of space novas and asteroids, etc.. Hmm… I wonder. What do you think about when you look into the night sky? Please post your thoughts on this and your favorite childhood memory, in the comments section. I look forward to reading all of your thoughts.
This site is dedicated to logging my life, thoughts, likes and dislikes. Be sure to check out my other sites, which are located in my sidebars with the latest content. I look forward to seeing what you have to say in the comments. I hope that this site will be an encouragement, a wealth of information and a comfort to those who read it. Thank you for coming by and be sure to leave a comment.
Sincerely,
Alison
Truthoughts Today 
A Tribute to Edgar Allan Poe
Posted by truthoughts on May 31, 2008
I have not had much to write about lately, so today, I thought that I would share with you one of my favorite Edgar Allan Poe poems. Most people know him because of “The Raven” and some other short stories that he wrote, but this poem that I will share with you now is one of my favorite works from him. Please enjoy!
My favorite verse in this poem is, “How fathomless a capacity for love!”. I can just picture the scene and it is beautifully saddening, yet like a blissful dream. I always wanted to be admired like the lady in this poem was. To be so beautiful that an enchanted garden would pale in comparison. I use to sit on my balcony, reading this poem, in the summer evening and imagine how he must have felt. The longing he had brings the deep romantic in me to life.
Growing up with this and other images of love and admiration helped me to hold out for my one true love, which came to me when I was 26 and he was everything that I had hoped for. This poem captures a moment in time, but what I got, is a lifetime.
There are others that I love to read, but this one has always been my favorite. Let me know what you think and what your favorite Edgar Allan Poe writings are.
Posted in Comments, Edgar Allan Poe, Emotions, Inspiration, Journal, Life, love, Memories, Musings, People, Personal, Poems, Poetry, Reflections, Relationships, thoughts, Writing | Tagged: admiration, Edgar Allan Poe, garden, Image, imagry, literature, Memories, Poems, Poetry, The Raven, To Helen, tribute, Writing | 2 Comments »