Not Interested

Notice to copytrolls: I took this picture myself with my legally-obtained camera. I altered it myself with my legally-obtained copy of a digital art program with a font that was legally-included in my legally obtained copy of said digital art program. So go away. You are not welcome here at all ever. That ought to be clear enough to you and your bosses. Duh.

For visually impaired and blind folks: The picture is a close up of a bird snuggled into a towel with the words "Not interested." on a lower left to upper right slant. 

     Housemate and I were watching a space program tonight on the science channel. The show featured two prominent physicists who discussed notions such as orbits, The Goldilocks Zone, pulsar planets, binary white dwarf stars, and supernovas. It was information that was easily digestible, I thought.

     I thought some more. And I thought a "What if." What if some percentage of planets in any given solar system were altering their orbits [or their orbits were being altered for some unnamed reason or reasons] over a given amount of time with such slow subtle-ness that we did not realize it and were not able to catch the alternation with any of the existing computer models or super-duper telescopes and stuff? And what if some planets were slowly making their way closer to their sun and others were slowly making their way farther from their sun? And what if some number of those planets started off as frozen ice-balls and then advanced into The Goldilocks Zone and then advanced closer to their sun where they burst into dust motes to be shifted far away and eventually nano-particles of the former planets reformed into ice-balls and so on? 

     Some unknown number [to us] of planets in some unknown number of solar systems in some unknown number of galaxies would at any one nano-second of time be in The Goldilocks Zone and thus capable of breeding lifeforms. Who's to say that life on any given planet would develop to look or act like us? Perhaps even some lifeforms tonight are sitting in front of what the equivalent of their television sets watching a program about space and wondering if theirs is the only inhabitable planet.

     I was excited about these thoughts but housemate was not interested at all. Housemate's loss. 

     Dad is beyond the point of wondering about things other than the mundane. His wonderings are now limited to things like what today is and why isn't the [old, no longer in service] cellphone working. When I was a kid, Dad listened to my questions and endeavored to provide whatever answers he could. I miss that.

     At some point in the haphazard progression that is Lewey Bodies Dementia, Dad will probably wonder who I am-- if he lives long enough. And at some point, he will not be able to wonder at all anymore.

sapphoq on life says: I hope that I will always keep my fascination with nature and the universe and everything. If I ever get any form of dementia, I hope that I will at least remember to quit driving right away and I hope that I will endeavor to accept the help that is offered to me. Until that time-- if it ever comes-- I hope that I live everyday celebrating the incredible gift that is life.

There Are Some People

There are some people that I will "never be good enough for."  I am too political or not political enough.  Obsessed with recovery or working a lousy program.  Over-involved or distant.  Co-dependent or too independent.  Intense or dull.  A bitter atheist or not enough of an atheist.  A dam liar or too honest.  And so on, ad nauseum.  Oh well.

Not everyone wishes me well.  Not everyone has to.  I don't wish everyone well and I don't have to.  Nathaniel Branden  taught me this:  
        " 'Loving everyone' sounds suspiciously like spiritual
           promiscuity--the abandonment of all standards."

Some years ago, a call went out for volunteers in my hometown to sign up to answer calls for a get help phone line.  I signed up.  The woman with the clipboard made a remark to some people next to her something to the effect that I was too whacked out to do this.  Consequently, I never did get any calls from that particular phone line.  Oh well.  Two similar phone lines in two other counties did add my number to their answering service.  To this day, once in awhile I still get calls for help from them.  I've learned to go where I am wanted.  

Not everyone wants or needs my help today.  Ninety nine percent of people don't and they are doing just fine without my ideas and opinions.  I don't want everyone's help either.  I like pears and I want to have pear trees.  Most of the folks up here have apple orchards.  Even if they mutter about how pears suck, I don't have to bad-mouth apples.  Because I want to grow pears and not apples, I will get with successful growers of pears.  If I want what they got, I will do what they do.  I want pears so I will seek out people who know about growing pear trees, not people who know about growing apple trees.  

Self-esteem is about self and steam.  Self-esteem is not based upon some deity's esteem for me.  Nor is it based upon the esteem of others for me.  Rock stars can have bunches of cheerleaders yet some of them still self-destruct.  It's nice to have the approval of one's deity, if that is what one wants.  It's nice to have fans gathering around cheering one on.  But those things are not enough.  If they were enough, there would be no need for personal growth.  We would never have to grow up.

There are some people that I will "never be good enough for."  I have to be good enough for my self.

sapphoq on life