Tuesday, January 30, 2018

A terribly deflating thought.

Haven’t decided yet. If. In the grand scheme of life. I’m a significant or insignificant being.  Probably. It depends on my day to day mood. On the one hand. I’m a nothing. A mere grain of sand. In a gargantuan universe. Makes me feel a bit humble. Doesn’t make an iota of difference. Whether I’m here or not. I’ll never be recognized. Other than by myself. That’s the consolation. The big and good thing. I have a sense of being me. A unique individual. A one of a kind. Able to savor and appreciate my existence. But then. I remind myself. I’m only a grain of sand. Yes. Yes. A terribly deflating thought. --Jim Broede

A time to salvage.

Could be. That I appreciate life more. In old age. Than I did as a youth. Now I’ve learned to take my time. To savor the precious moments. As a kid, I was too dumb to even recognize precious moments. I wasted time. Though I still salvage stuff today. For having experienced youth. --Jim Broede

Life can be confusing.

I’ve learned to accept revelations. That I didn’t expect. So-called surprises. Goes to show. The uncertainty of life. And the need to keep an open mind. I might even learn. Some day. That Donald Trump is a good guy. I doubt it. But let me be surprised. Furthermore, how often have I discovered?  That a good guy turned out to be a bad guy. Indeed, life can be confusing. All the more reason to withhold one’s judgments. About people. And over what constitutes good and evil. --Jim Broede

Precious vibes. From France.

I’m thinking. How much more meaningful it was. Being in France. Because Cristina and I were there. Together. Maybe that was the best part of the trip. The camaraderie. Just being with each other. Before we met. Cristina traveled alone. To such places as Norway’s fjords and the Scottish Highlands and the English countryside. Even to the U.S.  But now we add new-found luster and depth and intimacy to the art of travel. Simply from the shared experience. Here I am. Still musing about it. Weeks later. Thinking. Thinking. Picking up. Precious vibes. From France. --Jim Broede

Monday, January 29, 2018

Nothing will stop me.

My energy level. Isn’t what it used to be. Both physically and mentally. Yes. I know. That’s to be expected. As one ages. But still, it’s a rude awakening. I protest. Vehemently. That I can’t perform. As well as I used to. It’s depressing. Though I try to not let it bother me. I wish for magic. Maybe a pill. That makes me feel like a 20-year-old again. I’m looking. In every nook and cranny. For the fountain of youth. I’d like to believe. That Methuselah was more than a mythical character. That he found the fountain. And became drunk on the water. Every day. There has to be an explanation for his long life. Anyway, folks, stay out of my way. Nothing will stop me. From looking. --Jim Broede

In Hell. Forever.

The guests at an upper-class dinner party find themselves unable to leave. They weren’t locked up. They wanted to leave. But something stopped them. Sort of an invisible wall.  Instead, they had to stay. And endure each other. That became their living Hell. That’s the story of my favorite film, ‘The Exterminating Angel.’ Written and directed. In 1962. By Luis Bunuel. Today. If I had my way. The guests would be the U.S. Congress. And the president. With only one way to escape. They’d have to solve their political differences. By compromising. By finding common ground. Yes, by devising a plan. That both Republicans and Democrats. Can support. Serving the common good. If not. Let them rot in Hell. Forever. --Jim Broede

A willingness. To be surprised.

It’s nice. To get up. In the middle of the night. And add 2 plus 2. And get 4. But then to start thinking. About variables. The possibilities. That what I’ve been taught. Might be wrong. Under a different set of circumstances. Could be that the 4 automatically merge into one. I wouldn’t rule out another scenario, either. In which 2 plus 2 become 16 or some other random number. As a result of a weird split effect. So important. To keep an open mind. Nurturing a willingness. To be surprised. --Jim Broede

Sunday, January 28, 2018

A cosmic reality.

The more I learn. About the depth and breathe of creation. The more I am overwhelmed. Awestruck. New discoveries every day. Wow!!! Looking into the sky. And being able to see something that happened long, long ago. Makes me shove aside my longtime petty notions. In favor of a wonderful cosmic reality. --Jim Broede

The same old thoughts.

Wish I had an original thought. A thought that was never thought before. By anyone. But to the best of my knowledge. Every thought I’ve ever had was thought of before. Probably many, many, many times. How often does anyone come up with a completely original thought? Oh, it happens. I’m sure. But it hasn’t happened to me. Maybe I should consider that a personal shortcoming.  A failure. An indication that I’m not all that smart. But hey, I live with it. And take the view. That if I keep striving. Some day, I’ll yell, ‘Eureka. I just thought of something nobody ever thought of before.’ But after diligent research, I shuffle away. Disappointed.  Turns out, thousands of people had the same old thought. Over the ages. All the way back to prehistoric times. --Jim Broede

Knowing thyself.

I'm wacky. Abnormal. Not your ordinary bloke. And proud of it. Nothing to hide. I don't care about my image. But several of my friends may be overly concerned about their images. They want to be considered pillars of the community. Right and decent folks. That fit in nicely. And have good reputations. They are bothered. If anyone thinks ill of them. They want respect. And fret if they don't get it. Or if they are misunderstood. I don't mind too much about what people think of me. Doesn't matter. After all, I know who and what I am. That's important. If others don't know the real me, thast's all right. It's better that one knows thyself. --Jim Broede

Into oblivion.

It's been drilled into my head. That I'm supposed to think. Not necessarily this way or that way. But just to think. That's how I was educated. Think for yourself. But more and more. I'm being told exactly how to think. Which amounts to a devious way. to get me not to think. To accept the sound bites. in unthinking fashion. So that I can join the parade. Of robots. Into oblivion. --Jim Broede

Saturday, January 27, 2018

My kind of progress.

I am making progress. Every day. At solving life’s problems. Doesn’t always seem that way. But progress is progress. I’ve moved. In one direction or another. That qualifies as progress. In my world. I put emphasis on movement. Never being in the same place two days in a row. --Jim Broede

Give me more acumen.

I have no doubt whatever. That billions of planets. In our cosmos. Are inhabited by a wide range of intelligent life. Some similar to us. But others very, very different. In physical, mental and emotional make-up. Hardly recognizable to us. I find that thrilling. Of course, we are separated. By great and enormous distances. Counted in light years. That to us, seem impossible to physically navigate. But I wonder. If there are other ways to bridge the distance gap. And that the far more intelligent beings. Have already done it.  And they are already with us. But we lack the intelligent acumen. Necessary. To recognize their presence.  -Jim Broede