Tomar: whining adendum

Tomar: whining adendum This part is only for those of you who can stand to hear me whine. Why, you might ask yourself, would someone on vacation in Portugal, with eight amazing, smart, creative and self-sufficient kids and their absolutely unblevalbly wonderful significant others and two beautiful grandchildren and a farm in the country and a wonderful, kind, and protective husband of 38 years and more and more and more have to whine about? Small things really. The only reason I’m mentioning them at all is that I have come to the conclusion that my complaints are small and insigificant and that leads me to what’s important. OK, here’s the poor me part. Why did I think this would be fun? I’m walking more than I’ve collectively walked all together in my life. I have blisters. It’s damn cold. Hot water and heat and shelter from this picken foul supposedly “unseasonable” weather is upper most in my mind. I can’t understand anything anyone says. I’m so tired at the end of the day I can’t see well nor tell where I am. Half the time I wake up not knowing where I am for a moment. I have come to a conclusion that all that I know, all that I have done, all that I have learned, all that I hope for are completely contextual. It’s all part of a story I tell myself called my life. As a matter of fact, I’m a lump. Really, just a collection of cells moving through an environment that I sense through my five senses. But how do I know that my senses tell me anything real? My understanding of the world is shared by exactly no one. How’s that for unvarifiable. It’s just a story. Now, I let that story toss me. I feel angry, or sad, or happy, or deleriously happy. But the thing is, why? I don’t have a real clue and no one I have ever asked has an answer that satisfies me. So, here’s the deal. Why not just be happy? However, there is something that is completely inside me that can’t be sensed with my five. I feel it without evidence, or even positive feedback. I feel love. I feel LOVE! I can’t see it, here it, touch it, smell it or taste it. I feel it with a part of me that can’t be disected. I didn’t know I felt it until I became aware of it. I know that I am aware of it, but I can’t say when or how. I can make up stories about it. I can reason when I started to know love, or how it happened, however they are stories. I shouldn’t storify my love. I just want to feel it, bask in it, give it away because it never seems to be in short supply. Now is the hard part. I have stories about the bad things. I have experienced bad things and done things that have hurt others. But again, these are stories that I tell myself about things that I have evidence of through my five senses. Sometimes I have meant to hurt someone’s feelings. That intent I know inside without senses. However, I don’t like how that feels. In fact, it gives rise to all kinds of stories that I make up about how I am right and the other person is wrong. Again, these are stories, just stories. I don’t and I would go so far as to say I can’t really know how that other persons actions were intended. Most people, stripped of their stories, have no idea why they do what they do. That includes me. Now back to love. Love is something that can transform, make a difference, expand a mind and a heart and lead to longer lives. Or at least that’s how the story goes. So, what do I get out of all this? I love you Nathanial. I love you Linda. I love you Ethan. I love you Sloan. I love you unknown person who makes Sloan happy. I love you Nicholas. I love you Cathy in Kenya. I love you Napolian. I love you Amy. I love you Clarissa. I love you Sanders. I love you Cesily. I love you Ciprianna. I love you Lance. I love you Arianna. I love you Leif. I love you unknown person who makes Leif happy. I love you Tyler. I love you Michele. I love you Morris. I love you Stephanie, I love you Shelley. I love you Katy.I love you Julie, I love you Edith I love you Paola. I love you Marsha. I love you Barbara. I love you Ricky. I love you Lola. I love you Susie. I love you Eric, my shining light in my life who sees me and knows me and still loves me and doesn’t leave me on some corner to die, I love......... on and on.