Bell Curve

It's all my daughter-in-law's fault. What was I thinking?! Certainly not about fame. My brief brushes with that anomaly have been painful, embarrassing. Fame is as bad as anonymity, two extremes on the imaginary bell curve of life. "Does the professor grade on a curve?" That's what we asked in college. because if he did, I could relax. I was always going to fall somewhere on the brighter side of middle. But if not, whoa! Might actually have to study for that one. Might actually have to study? How much potential did I waste in never studying more than was necessary? Then it was called laziness. now it's called ordering your priorities. Who are we kidding? Only ourselves. At this rate we'll never evolve to a higher species.

My daughter-in-law tagged me. I have no idea what that means. Okay CG, you're it. (That's the only way I know how to play tag.)

Glimpses of Heaven

If I could visually portray all the glimpses of heaven I've been able to recognize in my lifetime—they would weave a circular tapestry of such subtle color and music that you'd need a magnifying glass to peer at the delicate beauty. These glimpses of recognition have been just that: instantaneous moments that came and went. Filled me with awe and were gone.

Art, music, service, not always in that order, are ways I can connect to the God of our universe—the ways I sing my personal song of praise and thanksgiving for physical life and mental acuity… for blessings and trials. It's all mushed together. Some days I'm even arrogant enough to think I understand it.