It is better to be an outcast, a stranger in one’s own country, than an outcast from one’s self. It is better to see what is about to befall us and to resist than to retreat into the fantasies embraced by a nation of the blind.
Chris Hedges

Thursday, October 04, 2007


When I was a pre-teen many years ago, living in a distant, cold place, I was packed off on an errand to the corner store to buy something. It was dark out and so quiet, windless and beautiful, you could hear your own heartbeat. I tend to look at the sky at night and I saw a green, cigar shaped light move silently across the horizon. I marvelled at the sight, but didn't say anything to most people.
Two weeks ago, I was sitting on my doorstep looking up at a beautiful sky full of stars and caught sight of a shooting star moving from west to east - nothing odd about that. Then I saw another shooting star moving from east to west - something made me keep watching and I saw a third shooting star moving from south to north. All this within the same patch of the night sky. I called my family out for what I expected to be a continuation but I was alone in the experience. Logic dictates that objects would have to be moving in the same direction because the earth spins in a fairly consistent pattern, as does the little bits that find their way into our atmosphere and burn up. Do I believe in UFO's? Not really, but what did I see?


nkceo said...

Dear heart. One of the hardest things for us (me and you) to get right in dealing with the depression is finding the balance between our needs, wants, rights and responsibilities. That's when it gets adversarial instead of collegial.

Last night when Satan worked his hooks into us again and my laughter defence didn't send him packing, I should have stopped. But instead I got angry and turned it against my best friend. Bad bad bad. There's nothing good about that. And even though I'm just a very human woman, there's no excuse for it.

I'm truly sorry.

dugger said...

The best advice I ever got was from my baseball coach, Bruce Prentice.
Having returned after botching another easy catch, I went to him and said, "sorry coach".
Bruce took me by the shoulder and said, "did you mean to drop that ball"?
"Of course not," says me.
"Then why are you sorry?" Bruce asked.