Good Morning Kossacks and Welcome to Morning Open Thread (MOT)
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This morning is rushed for me--as many have been lately. But in these times my thoughts often wander to those I miss, those to whom I owe time. Before my own laments, some Keats on time and its inevitable nature.
[When I Have Fears]
When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain,
Before high-piled books, in charactery,
Hold like rich garners the full ripen'd grain;
When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour,
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love;--then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think
Till love and fame to nothingness do sink.
- John Keats
In times like these it seems my life has been spread so wide. As a child in a small, semi-rural, town in Louisiana I dreamed of traveling; yet I knew so few people that had actually done so or even dreamed of doing so. This morning I can't help but review the list of those that have been swept, temporarily, into a corner of expectation while I stand alone, pen in hand, attempting to harvest ideas before their whispers fade into soft echoes of lost opportunity.
While I often feel stranded in this small town, my writing and memories take me on wonderful trips whenever my soul needs refreshing. And a recent illness has given me the opportunity to explore and think and just exist within the words of books and journals. Yet trips, by their very nature, must end and mine is nearing its end. I guess one needs to make such journeys just to appreciate the true nature of place that has become too familiar, and a life that has become too routine.
In the mean time, I owe a friend in Maine a proper assessment of his latest radio program; I owe a visit to a dear friend in NOLA who wrote me the nicest note about MOT being something she looks forward to each week; I owe a beautiful friend in New Zealand about 10 emails and at least one letter; I owe a life-long friend in Woodstock a long conversation and kisses to her children; I owe my friend in DC a call back for a proper congratulations on his promotion; I owe my friend in Santa Fe several responses on his latest work; and I owe all of you a little more of my attention.
So there is a partial list of my debit column and minor sins from the last, roughly two weeks as I self-indulged in remembering a dear intellectual lover who passed away a few years ago and turned my mind to some serious writing--something I haven't done since forever. And I'm not too proud to admit that I've really missed you guys. Somewhat. ;-)
Grab your coffee and pull up a chair.
What sins are on your mind this morning?