The "Fancy" in What We See as Ordinariness

Sometimes I feel that there is nothing special about my life because I am not traveling, curing the sick, or doing the great things I thought I would have completed by now. Well that's just me being unrealistic. We are all special. My "specialness" is more than my physical attributes. I'm exceptionally short but think I'm 5' 10". (I only think this usually when I do not wear my glasses and I'm puttering around the house). The floor looks so far away when my glasses are off my face.
However, I've been told I have other attributes that have little to nothing to do with my height--or lack thereof--or with my age, beauty etc. Honestly whatever bloom was part of me has long withered yet I along with most people entering the "sunset" of their lives have something from their essential self that is pleasant. At least I am hoping this is so.

I was raised to consider more than the outer and more obvious things about people.

Back to my lack of great height:
The only time I felt tall was when I visited my family in Puerto Rico, A cousin took me to the Mall of the Americas and everyone was as short or shorter than I except for my wonderful cousin who was 5' 6".

Perception means a lot and now I'm beginning anew to write about myself without the rose colored glasses, and with more kindness. I tend to beat myself up. I think recent readings are helping. I can see that short is not bad. That alone is not necessarily lonely and that I can write what I want in spurts until I get a lot more momentum going.


I'm working on a concept based on talking to those who are part of my life even if they are not alive. I thought that many cultures find ways to keep ancestors with them. I do as I imagine others might do. You think of something to you want to share with a Mother or Father so you say it aloud. I'm not expecting a quick response but as I miss them it soothes me to talk to my dead. I don't do it often but we all need to feel connected beyond today's electronic gadgetry and in fact I rather hope to reboot my memory in these personal practices.


Just today I wondered what my Father would think of my son, James, and his many travels around the country. I know too that my Mother would be pleased, but since my Dad was the quieter of the two, I wonder what he would make of this Grandchild of his who is doing so much work on behalf of family and fatherhood issues. In my conversations, I hear  a proud grandfather.


It turns out that my "ordinary life" has borne fancy fruits for others to enjoy and benefit from.

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