Chasing Rainbows

I’m always chasing rainbows/ Watching clouds drifting by/ My schemes are just like all my dreams/ Ending in the sky.

Remember when you had all the time in the world to do whatever it was you wanted to do?  In fact, you had the rest of your life.  You still have the rest of your life but all of a sudden it seems the amount of time remaining has shrunk like a wool sweater in hot water.

Neighbors are rebuilding their two car garage with an apartment above that they plan to list with Airbnb.  With Seattle hotel rates at $300/night, they feel sure of regular occupancy and income in our relatively safe and well-kept neighborhood.  The idea excited me and I thought about taking out a mortgage to do the same.  The reality is that it takes “forever” to get a permit and a contractor not to mention the actual construction, listing with Airbnb, and arrival of tourists.  Do I want to turn my “forever” and economic resources over to even a safe gamble?  What if I have a short forever?

I’ve had almost a life-long fantasy of authoring a book.  I’ve read that it takes an average of ten years to get a book from idea to print and even if I were able to develop my current idea (it’s a good one too) into book form I would be close to ninety when published and that’s providing I could find an agent and publisher.  I dabbled in screenwriting initially only to learn that Hollywood, in general, only wants young writers and to break in it’s all about who you know, kid.  Getting a PhD in quantum physics would be easier.

So, how do I want to use the time remaining to me?  Chasing rainbows?  Maybe I can master Windows 10 and Movie Maker and edit all the 8mm film now converted to DVDs or is that just another fantasy?  Perhaps pursuing fantasies is actually designed to keep the neurons firing and thus add additional years to the ninety year timeline.  The secret experts support is in doing what you enjoy.  I will probably continue to work on the book as I find pleasure in the activity and it provides me with unexpected rewards in the people I meet, and it pushes me to try new things.  I will continue to enjoy my home, yard, as is, as long as I can, and serve when called.

I’m always chasing rainbows/ Waiting to find a little bluebird in vain.  Writers: Harry Carroll, Joseph Mccarthy.

A Summer’s Day

Lyrics:  Starry, starry night/ paint your palette blue and grey/ Look out on a summer’s day/ with eyes that know the darkness of my soul.

Imagine wanting to grow up to be an astrophysicist.  After a visit to the Hayden Planetarium at age ten, that’s all Neil deGrasse Tyson ever wanted to be and now he’s Director of the Hayden Planetarium.  After watching him on 60 Minutes I had to Google for more of his boyish enthusiasm and adult passion for the stars, universe, the cosmos, and his explanation of why we humans are made of stardust. Then I watched him on YouTube being interviewed by that brilliant zany, Stephen Colbert.  I was left wondering if he’s one of the scientists who believes in a higher power, that creative spiritual force called God.  Science can’t prove God and because of that inadequacy science then denies Her for lack of proof.  I can’t prove Her either but I know that the scientific method is limited because I’ve experienced the scientific unexplainable.

I  believe the same could have been true for the artist Vincent Van Gogh.  What did he actually see when painting that starry night?  Musician, Don McLean, had a special sensitivity to the artist and perhaps because of my many years as a nurse in a psychiatric setting, I, too, suffered for his sanity.  Did Van Gogh during the depth of his psychosis actually see the turbulence of his starry night that is generally considered the last unsolved mystery of classical physics?  “Is it possible that Van Gogh’s mind, warped by disease, was prepared to grasp phenomena that have baffled physicists for centuries?”  (Discover Magazine/Kathryn Garfield)  I think of all the times I’ve spent listening to psychotic patient’s delusional talk and felt I understood on some level what they were experiencing, “what you tried to say to me,” wanting to understand the particle of truth in their delusion.  There is that fine line between sanity and insanity and artists often butt up to the edge.

Science can’t prove there is a higher power, nor can science disprove it.  For that matter, institutionalize religion can’t prove it either.  Religion can only talk about what they believe to be true from reports from others, and religions don’t agree on that.  It’s why we turn to artists, poets, and nature.

Why am I thinking about Neil deGrasse Tyson and Vincent Van Gogh on a summer’s day?  Because I’m supposed to; because if I’m to become a sage and Spiritual Elder I must continue to grow mentally and spiritually and that requires that I wonder, ponder on the unknown, and satisfy my curiosity.  That’s how we grow and evolve at every age.  Today I’m curious about stars, the cosmos, and Van Gogh’s turbulence.  Next, I’m going to be curious about goose bumps — the Blue Angels are in town.  What are you curious about?

Lyrics: Starry, starry night/ Flaming flowers that brightly blaze/ Swirling clouds in violet haze/ Reflect in Vincent’s eyes of china blue.  (Don McLean’s hit song, Vincent.)