Teddy Ballgame Buddhism

“You pick your nose, you scratch your ass….and the world goes by.” wrote Ted Williams in his book My Turn At Bat.  It’s been one of those days for me.  If I could make “Contemplative Laconic” a paint color, I’d be in the mood to do a lot of painting.

Yeah, I did get some things done, grocery shopping, a LOT of reading.  I’ve been loving all the thoughtful comments in the post previous to this one.  Huh!  I just thought how rarely I refer to a post as “previous”, even though it does make some sense.

The phone!  Be right back…..and here I am.  Was it a long call for you?  I hope not!

On this Mothers Day, I am thinking about my mom, but I’m also thinking of a friend whose relationship to her parents was close to my own.  This has been a big bonding point with us ever since.  It’s funny that we often have family conversations that many of our mutual friends don’t understand.  This bond means even more to her than I, and we share confidences about other things because of that relationship.  On her mother’s deathbed, her mother asked my friend to take care of her siblings who struggle more than she does.  I had a “deathbed scene” with my mother too….which was just trauma topped with sadness.  I still suppress remembering it; I’ve got enough other reasons for trauma and sadness.

I sat out on the lawn drinking Watermelon Cucumber Cooler (thank you, Trader Joe’s!) watching traffic go by.  I’ve always loved watching traffic; spotting car models was the Detroit equivalent of identifying animal tracks for outdoors types.  There are a couple of car magazines here and you’ll see an exotic or two because of that.  A gold Lamborghini Aventador!  There’s a rare bird….but the rain drove me back indoors.

I could talk about life….but why not just live it and let the chips fall where they may?

And you?

 

 

 

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5 thoughts on “Teddy Ballgame Buddhism”

  1. My comment is peripheral [I’m feeling particularly peripheral today]. All the new cars look alike to me!!! When my brother and I were little, we’d gleefully name the cars going by based on certain distinct manufacturing trademarks. How can you tell the new ones apart?!

  2. But I do agree [less peripherally] with your last remark. The meaning of life is found by living it, not by searching for it.

  3. It is much harder now to tell cars apart…they’re all rendered either a wedge or a blob. You can’t spot them at distance at all….only close inspection will do!

  4. What color would “Contemplative Laconic” turn out to be, were I in charge of the paint mixing machine?

    Most likely a mid to light shade of blue, tinged with mauve and gray, not dark enough to make a statement, not light enough to be considered airy.

    Second choice would be pale light green on the olive/blue side with hint of liveliness, similar to the color seen on some Priuses/Prii http://afwp.autofusion.com/wordpress/green/files/2010/12/2nd_Toyota_Priuslg.jpg

  5. oops again, …that particular green is WITHOUT a hint of liveliness.

    I appreciate the thought of being in the mood to do a lot of painting, regardless of how that shade turns out.

    When trauma and sadness add their tints and taints to the mix, the experience of a bond matters, as it helps hold the rest together.

    Whether we could or would talk about life while discerning colors, moods, shapes, models and patterns, something shows up wherever we are, as the chips fall where they may.

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