Showing posts with label Optimism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Optimism. Show all posts

Thursday, March 18, 2021


Arbor Lights

Enthusiasm in ancient Greece meant “Filled with God.” 

I love that.

We heard something from our President the other day that we haven’t heard for a long time. That was optimism. 

Those concepts, enthusiasm, and optimism have been sadly lacking in our beautiful world for a time. 

With the coming of spring, though, comes hope and new life, and I see the joy of living springing forth from sticks that looked dead during the winter.

It’s incredible, isn’t it, how after being dormant during a cold spell, they can spring to life?

“We can take a lesson from plants. Hope is coming. 

The Magnolia tree is laden with flowers. The evergreen Clematis on the arbor has more buds and flowers than leaves. How do they do it? Life wants to live, and so do we. And we want to live beyond survival level. We want to live abundantly. 

I do not want to diminish the suffering people have endured or the worry plaguing them; I want to look ahead to a brighter day.  

I think we’re like passengers on a just landed jet plane who breathe a sigh of relief when they safely reach  their destination. I bet even people who feel quite comfortable flying are a bit relieved to have wheels on the ground.

It’s time, though, don’t you think, for us to be “Filled with God” and to remember that child within us who longed for a secret adventure.

Remember when we were kids and we laughed for no reason? 

Those who are filled with that enthusiasm–filled with God–do not harm people, animals, nor soil their bed, which is mother earth.  

I visited the farm store the other day and stopped to look at baby chicks. I’ve been wondering if I wanted to begin again with chicklets. I have two hens that are laying sporadically. They came to live with us as adults, so I don’t know their age, and elderly hens stop laying eventually. 

I asked if they would be getting Americanas, now called Easter egg chickens because they lay beautiful seafoam green or blue eggs. Chickadee, my Margaretta drinking, french-fries eating chicken was an Americana.

Friday, said the farm store lady said. The chicks would be coming in on Friday—that’s tomorrow. The chicks will be three days old. I wonder if I can be as lucky as I was last time when I got three little pullets. Roosters annoy the neighbors and don’t give any eggs. They might provide us with more chickens, though.

I’m debating. We’ll see tomorrow. 

Babies give us the belief that the Universe will continue.