"It takes some living to get good at giving..."
My illustrious, pensive, co-worker (PCW) made a statement this morning that was "blog-worthy" and true. There are those in popular culture that seem to reinforce this phrase. I know that for me it has many implications and so far, all of the ones I can think of are quite positive; even if they are not widely held popular. So the blog begins....
I don't know that I have lived a full life; but I sure would like to think so. Yes, many mistakes lead to much wisdom (mistakes that lead to learning and change), many adventures (for me, anything unknown or uncharted territories) led to many tall tales (most true), and many experiences (few to be told) led to curiousities of things seen and unseen; but a deeper understanding of people and just plain human natures :D (smiley face).
Anyway, "it takes some living to be good at giving" is particularly true in that we come to realize our own similarities to everyone else we spend time thinking that we are better than. This realization teaches and aids our ability to be less judgemental and more compassionate. Now, that doesn't mean become a doormat; but it builds in a few more chances for the average Joe. You catch my drift, I can tell. We all make mistakes; hopefully not the same ones over and over again.
They say "experience is the best teacher..." They are probably right! I have tried to read about many things; but hey, I am a card carrying "show me the picture, I love comic book communication varsity geek." A picture is worth a thousand words. I learn from experience and pictures communicate that experience to me in a way that is more complete than just text. [actually there are circumstances that I prefer the written word — it's just a more internal communication; but that's not in this blog (right eyebrow raises slightly) some of you know what I mean; the others — ignorance is bliss (smile) :D]
Not only does living enhance our ablilities to give, forgive, expect, explain, think, rethink, develop and regurgitate; it is a source of continuing hope; like an empty highway with only a dashed yellow line of memory going beyond the hilltops into our futures changing everything before us to what comes after us. What resembles our "ripple effect..." (Hmmm...that sounded a little off the deep end. But again, some of you know what I mean; others — ignorance is bliss.) [It's kind of odd to have a conversation with your own converstating fingers....but maybe thats just an odd normal :)] Whew!!! I have gotta land this plane.
Anyway, in closing, I reminded my PCW (refer above if you forgot), that the same is also true of older women. Having had several experiences with various ranges, I am of the strong statistical reflection of its truth and the truth of the phrase itself. There was a song "Older Women Make Beautiful Lovers" by or at least should have been sung by Ronnie Milsap or Meryle Haggard. It's not that they necessarily know more; but life has given them a greater capacity to be more giving (usually really good cooks too :D). They been through some [substitute your own explicatives here] "goat gravy." Here is one of the verses of the song...
OLDER WOMEN MAKE BEAUTIFUL LOVERS
So baby don't you worry about growin' older
Those young girls ain't got nothin' in you
'Cause it takes some livin', to get good at givin'
And givin' love is just where you could teach them a thing or two.
Alas, the runway is close, the plane descends, the tires smoke at contact. It takes some living to be good at giving. Live everyday like its the last (it may be). There are few occassions more special than "now" so be good to the ones you love, love the ones you hate, and meet somebody new daily. That's all I got and I am leaving with it.
Hmmm....what if I did some living in somewhere sunny all the time.
I had a great weekend. It was one of those "no obligation" free-for-all. I had several offers to become committed but we turned them all down. It was mostly just quality snuggle time (typically worth its weight in gold). We were both in the baking mood but there was already plenty of pound cake, almond pecan brownies and ice cream; not to mention pop corn....so it would have been a wasted effort. The weather was fantastic and we intended to play croquet; but alas the nothing won out. We did however manage to plant some brilliant beautiful mums and other colorful flowers. We have alot of fun doing things together.
Saturday morning was great too. There's nothing like a great workout. Hot oxygenated blood coursing through straining veins to demanding muscles and hungry cells has a tendency to purify the mind. It is the best of times and the worse. The garbage of the day gets sorted through and untangled with every strand of sweat leaking its logic to reason. There's something about being surrounded by others doing the same thing. I have always noticed how "we" tend to appreciate fine forms and chiseled features that are recoginzed as marks of dedication and performance.
Land of the Blind is a satiric political drama about terrorism, assassination, and the power of memory. The film is set in an unnamed place and time, where an idealistic soldier named Joe (Ralph Fiennes) strikes up an illicit friendship with a political prisoner named Thorne (Donald Sutherland). Through their conversations in the high-security military prison where Thorne is held, Joe slowly begins to question his allegiance to the country's brutal but clownish dictator and his Machiavellian wife. Eventually Thorne succeeds in recruiting Joe to the rebel cause, leading to a bloody coup d'etat with echoes of countless tyrannies, revolutions, and counter-revolutions throughout history. But in the post-revolutionary world, what Thorne asks of Joe leads the two men into bitter conflict, spiraling downward into madness until Joe's co-conspirators conclude that they must erase him from history.
We love it; but its more than just for the fun. We are biologically tied to it. Making up over 90%of the body, our genetics predetermine our need and love for it. This beautiful morning, I remember sitting under the water, issolated from all the familiar distractions on the surface. It's a different type of noise. It's like hearing the noise behind the wall. The mind relaxes, the spirit relaxes and the body relaxes. Given a moment; you notice a strange symbiosis and realignment begin. In the weightless peace, the human parts seem to correct themselves of the pressure from above. It's so much easier to hear your own thoughts. You even become aquainted with all the internal sounds of the human mechanism. One can not help but consider the womb and the bio-psychological markers left from the birth experience documented by the mind but not available to our understandings. Oh the warm security, peace (hopefully for most of us), love and intimacy of relationship dependent on unseen caretakers. 
There are things that just make me go "hmmmm..."