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Sunday, April 20, 2014

April 20, 2014

 

Morning-Easter Sunday

 Finally, the sky is clear, the rain soaked clouds  poured their wealth into an already saturated earth here in the Carolinas. There is a crisp coolness in the air, a difference between sharp cold and a light coolness. Like breathe and slow breathing. The gentle coolness soothes my radiated nostrils and throat. The sharp cold spiraled though my nose and throat down into my neck and shoulder where there is less blood, less tissue, less.
I walk to the garden, my garden, in the back. There is work to be done after days of rain. I can almost hear, no, I do hear the roots pushing down and climbing up to the surface. Some of the plants have nudged through and burst into the air, swimmers in the pools of dirt reaching for the sun.
There is work to be done.

But first, many of my technology tools need attention, an external drive I mistakenly deleted but fortunately had backed up (because I back up everything) needs to be restored. Another external drive  freshly packed with a mirror image now runs at midnight every day because of a rash of interlopers, the virus makers, an email account where the server keeps failing and asks to be refreshed , a new smart phone that has more features, emphasis on more, and I admittedly pack on the Apps, and  a new platform in our real estate multiple listing service. There are classes for the tools, practice in my off time, developing social networking tools, rebuilding websites and one is not publishing, my favorite.
I am a voracious reader. The real estate market is volatile, either up or down and especially in play.
And we humans are curious and competitive, many of us, we like learning, I do. I like knowing and seeing and learning. I do have a fondness for the people I treasure. I want to hear about them, from them. Their pictures are often delightful. There is much to see and hear and feel and love and miss.
There is simply not enough time. For me there is not enough time.

More becomes more. Technology creates an abundance quickly, the big news and the incidental and we, I, lap it up.
More is more.

I have to stop. I want to stop before we crash, before I crash or get off.

I try to grasp a sense of direction. There are ultimate possibilities in every field. The underlying beat feels familiar. I keep listening for simplicity especially in my own life, in my own heart.

Today is the very day to think about new beginnings and life itself.