Today is July 6, 2025. It has been 303 days since I last posted, Sep 6, 2024.
My garden is no longer mine.
It’s still there, but it’s not mine.
So, thinking about what to do with this blog, I pondered the fact that lately I have been ultra conscious of insanity. Craziness. Planet-wide as well as inner circle wide insanity. Nothing new here, just my sensitivity to insanity that affects me.
A few days ago I read that the 14th Dalai Lama, a youngster of 90 years, predicted he would live another thirty or forty years (presumably he will soon decide and announce which). Good for him!! is my first reaction. But millions, if not billions of people worship in the wake of this human god. They must be rejoicing at the announcement. I am puzzled by this. There is an attached bonus: the good god will re-incarnate (no, I do not capitalize things other than what muscle memory makes me, like I, for the first person pronoun. But not wednesday. Why do I have to capitalize wednesday when I don’t capitalize skaʔɬlásq̓ət).
Back to (re)incarnation. I have known (of) people who are devils incarnate. I know some such devils. But while I know individual devils, I do not know who THE devil is. I understand several denominations claim it (him? her?) as one of the cast of characters in their theological scheme. What good catholic would want to do away with the devil? Such a useful creature.
Now, it doesn’t bother me that the dalai lama (i remembered not to capitalize—goody goody) will live to 120 if not 130. But what about the millions who live in his wake? And he has announced his reincarnation. He will come back as a male child. My question is, will their respective existences overlap? Will the old be able to meet the new in person?
you see, i have joined the general craziness. couldn’t help it.
But all this thinking brings me back to reality—the realization of my mortality. I am not as “young” as the dalai lama, but I know I won’t live another 30 or 40 years. I just would like to live long enough to see and touch my grandchildren from time to time, all of them, but especially the ones who won’t be able to remember me. Can some insanity keep me from seeing and touching my grandchildren? Yes it can!
So while I walk along the rim of the mesa and rejoice at the spectacular view of the snow capped mountains, I think of the day of my permanent death. No reincarnation is planned—and neither is my attendance at judgment day—won’t be there, period. There are benches along the paths, and this plaque is next to one such.
I see my name in place of Chase’s; I see familiar names in place of the five mentioned there and I would like to hope that no matter how imperfect a (grand)parent I am and have been, I could count on some of my inner circle thinking of me.
Mind you, while I talk to the dead (and sometimes can hear their replies—see how insane I am?) I also communicate telepathically with those whom I am forbidden to communicate with. It’s a constant telepathic marathon.
Haven’t you had enough of my insane thoughts?
When I have had my fill of insane thoughts, I revert to other activities.
Did you notice that I wrote it has been 303 days since my post of Sep 6, 2024?
Did I add the months and days, moltiplied, added again, etc? No, I wrote a few lines of code to do the counting from me. Let me elaborate.
Many years ago, when from our empty nest I was trying to stay in touch with our fledged children, I challenged them to articulate an algorithm which would calculate the exact date when I would be twice as old as each of them. I like to remember that the game was fun, and there was some back and forth about the algorithm, but hey, that was long ago.
In any case, I thought then and think now that folks could celebrate that day. We celebrate mother’s and father’s day, why not—help me come up with something—half/double day? So I wrote a few lines of code and calculated that today, july 6, 2025 I am 30817 days old. Now, if I calculate how many days old you (anybody) are, then I can calculate when our half/double day is, either in the future or in the past.
So when my walks on the mesa turn maudling I go back to my hat rack and put a dunce’s cap on and make silly plans. Who knows, half/double day may catch on, and cards can be printed, T-shirts, hats, toys… and while I know the app wouldn’t be a money maker, it may make a few friends smile.
Sit and rest.
