Saturday, September 23, 2017

10 Reasons Why The World Cannot End Today

Surely you've heard the apocalyptic warning by now that the world as we know it, will end today. Today's random date was picked for Biblical AND Astrological reasons (!) which makes it all the more cringeworthy and credible. Let me paraphrase the experts. I do it all the time on the blog. They never mind and no one has sued me. Yet. 

Apparently, Virgo is in some sort of birth travail at the moment and Pisces...or was it Pisces having the astral baby....ONE of them is about to give birth and the tail of some star chart is aligned with the head of said pregnant skirt-wearing constellation which is supposed to cause a nasty collision with the planet Nibiru  (aka Planet X) first told to us by a woman in Wisconsin who says aliens planted a microphone in her brain and dubbed her prophetic and wise, at which point said cataclysmic collision and explosion of the earth's crust will cause a calamitous event meant to evacuate either (1) all the Christians who are ready to meet Jesus  (2) all the Republicans who won't vote for repeal and replace (that would be ONE)  or (3) all the Democrats who secretly pretend to abhor Republican hold-outs for their "self-righteous" ways but really just want the same thing in a different bottle on most days minus a few whippersnappers with common sense and compassion. Amen and amen.  That leaves maybe 3 people in the House and 1 in Congress give or take a few janitors. 

During Bloggingham's solar eclipse in my backyard.
What do you see?
And ALL of this was foretold by clouds during the recent Solar Eclipse and rooted in ancient numerology. 

See how I explained that so succinctly?

Ten Reasons Why The World Cannot End Today




1. Homer needs a bath



2. I need a bath

3. I have a pie in the oven
I ain't takin' no half-baked crust to Jesus

4. Baby Beans has to return the shopping cart. 
But first I have to get him out of it.
Hurry up, Baby Beans!
 We have a disaster to attend.


5. I'm too busy running to the emergency room. Mama fell and broke her hand.  And now sheeee needs a bath. Who is gonna do it? Yours Truly



6. My lesson plans are overdue. Again. 
I figured if the world was going to end we wouldn't need them next week.
Strangely, my principal did not agree.

7. ULTA is having a sale.

8. I need to read the end of three books I haven't finished. I don't think there are any book clubs where I'm going....


9.   I haven't downloaded all the solar eclipse shenanigans that happened in the woods of Bloggingham. Dancing with a moonsun was epic and life-changing. 
 I wore a moon-smock and saw a woman in the clouds. You see her too, right?


and last but certainly not least.... are we still here????

10.  There are peace globes to gather. Peace globes to blog. Peace globes! 
Peace globes! Peace globes! Do you have your peace globe?

Now if you'll excuse me, my pie is burning.
As most of you predicted it would. 
See? Now THAT's credible.



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Sunday, September 10, 2017

Hurricane Irma ~ Waiting Out a Storm


When I was a young girl growing up in the south, my great-grandmother lived next door. We called her Granny. She wore her hair in a beautiful French braid that she twisted and turned up her back each morning with hardly a glance in the mirror. Why is this important? Because Granny had some grit about her, a treasure trove of stability and routine (hence, the daily hairdo) and a mountain of faith, notwithstanding that tiny bit of friendly black magic that cured my daily ailments, bumps and bruises. She called it Jesus healing. I called it magic. 

Thankfully, one fine day, those two terms met in my inquisitive peace-seeking mind and melded together into my own faith, based on my own unique experiences, seamlessly solidified by watching her and others in my life, walk out a daily regimen of beliefs that kept them grounded and kept me safe. 

One of my fondest memories with her involved storms. Thunderstorms to be exact. Lightning and thunder. Flashes of frightening noises on the tobacco farm, where a strike of lightning could torch a barn and wipe out a year's income. One such bad afternoon storm when the power went out and the winds were
Mimosa tree
blowing the Mimosa tree in the backyard, I remember Granny walking over to our house to wait out the storm, carrying a spit can for her snuff. 
You know what snuff is, right?

Children were not allowed to run and play during a storm or make any loud noises. It was time to sit down, listen for outside calamity like falling trees and wait it out together. I had an upright black piano at the time and I wanted to play, but Granny said, "Shhhhhhh. Hush, Child. That's too loud, but we can quietly sing."

So, with a bundle of my French-braided kin and a pan of snap peas to string, she taught me this song. It's an old Gospel hymn written by Thomas Mosie Lister called "Til The Storm Passes By". I later learned to play it for her from the United Methodist hymnal while my mother sang the tune standing behind me. 

  Hushhhhh child.... not today....there's a storm  a'brewin...
'Til the storm passes over
'Til the thunder sounds no more
'Til the clouds roll forever from the sky
Hold me close
Let me stand
in the hollow of Thy hand
Keep me safe
'Til the storm passes by
 
There are millions of people waiting out  massive Hurricane Irma at the moment. They have much more to worry about than downed tobacco barns and falling trees, although that is also devastating in perspective. Since the path has shifted west, Bloggingham may be spared from flooding and tornado winds, but if Irma has proven anything it's how unpredictably fickle she can be.  We shall see. 

I pray for the peace that passes all understanding in the midst of this storm. Granny's soothing touch and the sound of my mother's beautiful voice gave that peace to me so long ago, as do these lyrics when I'm faced with wailing winds.

I wish I could sit with her today and sing while she braided my hair and told me to hush in her no-nonsense loving way. And if you need to sing, here's a song from my childhood home to yours. 
(P.S. Now that the storm is over, I hope you all made it through with no worries...)

Lynda Randle has a nice version of this hymn on YouTube if you'd like to listen.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0nKcYFQfe3A

Images: Pixabay

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Tuesday, August 8, 2017

Can a Solar Eclipse Teach Us To Live In Peace?

My biggest fear in the seventies was whether or not my brothers would be drafted to go to Vietnam. They weren't, but my uncles served stints in southeast Asia. As worrisome and serious as that was, I could never have envisioned the state our world is in now or that we would experience the horrors of terrorism at such a brutal inhumane level. The word suicide-bomber wasn't in my vocabulary in the seventies. 

It's on our collective minds tonight. 
The threats. The bluster. The bullying across the sea. It feels like the world might tilt and fall into an abyss. In a few days, citizens in many parts of the world will share the phenomenon of a solar eclipse. A celebration of the wonders of the universe we share!  We wouldn't exist without our solar system holding us in space. For just one day planet Earth will feel connected as her humans stare at a power that is magnificently aligned and bigger than themselves. We are at its mercy, this power.  When the moon, the sun, and earth peacefully intersect, we will don our funny looking glasses and stand in awe. It somehow doesn't compute that we may be on the eve of destruction.

If the will of the moon and sun can coincide peacefully without extinction, while all of humanity looks on, then surely man has an obligation to preserve and honor life on the planet that's bequeathed to him.

 That worrisome 'draft' word has been replaced with 'nuclear' annihilation.  And as dire as that is, we can't stop speaking for, hoping for, praying for peace.

Do it.
Don't ever stop.



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Monday, July 24, 2017

Monday Mimisms ~ Let's Talk About Depression

Headache, Head Ache, Pain, Head, Ache Depression @ Mimi WritesOnce upon a long time ago, I had a part-time job working for a salesman who lived in my neighborhood. I needed extra cash and he needed a secretary to keep him and his endless sales paperwork organized and accurate. It was a perfect arrangement.

My boss was a funny guy, albeit with a cynical side, who had an unfortunate penchant for near constant migraines. Much of the time he was in terrible pain, barely able to function. On the road to sales calls, we spent lots of time talking about our lives and families, while I recorded data and created invoices. This brief blip on the road of my life would ordinarily seem unremarkable, except for one telling conversation I've never forgotten to this day.

One day I noticed he was particularly anxious. Nervous. Jittery. Unwell. I asked him what troubled him so. He divulged very little and simply replied,
"Mimi, just remember this -
stress'll kill ya."

A few years later, he committed suicide.

Beyond being sad and grieved for his lovely family, I found it oddly prophetic. When I am overwhelmed and anxious, I sometimes hear his pain-filled voice say....."stress'll kill ya." He was warning me to try to learn to control the stress in my own life.  I wish he could have found his way out of that space.
Directory, Signposts, Hope, Hopelessness, Mimi Writes, Depression
What I've noticed lately is this: There are a lot of people walking around with what I call Life PTSD.  They're not clinically depressed, not on medication, and not in therapy. But their situations and circumstances seem to constantly spiral from hope to despair and back again, the likes of which a tilt-a-whirl ride has never seen. In today's world,This Is Your Brain on Drugs has morphed into This Is Your Brain on Life

Cumulative situational depression is a very real struggle. It is rampant in the society we live in today. It steals your joy. It fogs your brain. It hurts your relationships. It tears you down physically in ways that doctors are only beginning to truly understand. There is no way around - only through.

And we need to talk about it.



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Thursday, July 13, 2017

It's A Great Day To Walk On The Beach

I'm not at the beach today but I remember this vacation well.

I wrote in the sand.
Exploring the island like a Bohemian...
eating ice cream at 10am....
coffee at sunrise on a blanket with my books...

buying flip flops and T-shirts....
and tossed a few messages in a bottle in the great Atlantic sea





Storms brewed. 
A spectacular sky and a feeling of change on the winds
 and in my life. 




Take a walk with me.
 I'll wear my hat and you can sing on the shore.




Images copyright Mimi Lenox

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Sunday, July 9, 2017

Sunday Morning Me


For a teacher, every day is "Sunday morning" in the summertime. And I'm loving it! My body needs about three weeks (no exaggeration) to physically and mentally recoup from the school year. You go go go go non-stop for ten months in exhausting and stressful conditions, working 12 hour days (and more) and that's just ON campus. Off-campus preparations and performances add to that workload. Summertime is collection of overtime pay. The people who know me get it, but really only people in academia know the kind of exhaustion-to-the-bone I'm talking about. 

Week three is here and I'm beginning to feel somewhat rested and ready to embark on a few gentle summer projects before the bell rings in August. After twenty-one years in the classroom, this may be my last August bell. Yay! We shall see how it goes and what's best for me.

I've been couching. Listening to music. Updating old blog posts. Reading. Researching retirement options. Going to physical therapy (a story for another day!) Visiting with my mother and kids. Learning some new songs. 
Mostly couching.

 Baby Beans and I are going on a river trip next week if I feel up to walking. I've lost my camera. How does one lose a Nikon camera?? I'm sure it's in that-place-I-hid-it-for-safekeeping-that-I-will-obviously-remember-but-will-NEVER-remember. You know what I'm talking about? 

I also need to respond to an email I recently received that gave me pause....So I paused. I will respond when I know what to say.
Meanwhile....gotta find that camera.
And some words.

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