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Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Pumpkin Wisdom


                                                                                                               

Every fall we make our autumnal pilgrimage out to farm country to pick pumpkins from the pumpkin patch. Over the years, we've harvested a good crop of pulp wisdom which I'm happy to share with you now.

  • Pumpkins do not make good doorstops.
  • Sooner or later, we'll all run into an evil scarecrow.
  • Positivity is when your head is carved up into a jack o' lantern and you're still grinning.  
  • The good thing about being a pumpkin is that plump is pleasing.
  • Perfect pumpkins get picked first but odd looking pumpkins are more lovable.
  • Under your arm, carry a homely, mis-shapen pumpkin with plenty of bumps and gnarls...and you'll get noticed at any party.
    • If you're bright orange and can't dance, pumpkin pie is a good back-up plan.
    • Pumpkin chucking is not the same as up-chucking except for the end result.
    • When you're tethered to a vine...you know you're in trouble.
    • Pumpkins make good friends because they look up to you.
    • If you hang around with pumpkins....you're very weird.
    • Life is like a pumpkin patch...you always gotta watch where you're stepping.
    • When you're sitting on the front porch with a candle in your mouth, pulp up your nose and a goofy smile on your face,  you know you've had too much to drink.
    • If politicians were pumpkins, they'd have thick heads and mush for brains. Oh wait...they already do.
    • We all get to shine for a little bit and then our light goes out and we're left to rot in the dirt.
    Pumpkin people are often misunderstood.

    THE END












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    Monday, September 13, 2010

    Eat, Pray, Love, Nap

    I thoroughly enjoyed reading Elizabeth Gilbert's best selling memoir, Eat, Pray, Love. It's about a divorced woman who spends a year of soul-searching in Italy, India and Bali. I've not seen the movie with Julia Roberts but I doubt whether it's as good as the book. After finishing the book, I was beset with a compelling desire to visit an ashram in India as Gilbert did, don a sari, cast all my worldly worries aside and immerse myself in solitary meditation for months on end...in an effort to discover the real meaning of my own mind, body and spirit. Iconic photos of the Beatles flashed in my head...John, Paul, George and Ringo...clad in Nehru jackets with auras of hashish smoke drifting above them, gleaning the secrets of life along with tips for playing the sitar at the feet of some long-bearded, wizened, old codger who resembled Ghandi. It all sounded so...quixotically mesmerizing and exotically self-absorbing. 

    Then I started to visualize what it would actually be like...hunkering down in an Indian ashram...which is a tranquil, secluded place for spiritual enlightenment. Reality quickly set in: Sitting crossed-legged for hours on a hard stone surface. I haven't sat cross-legged since 1989. 120 heat and a steamy 320 degree humidity. Sort of like being roasted alive. Creepy, crawly things wiggling and flying over and about me. Sweat dripping into every miniscule pore of my body. Similar to bathing in the Ganges River. Reciting a mantra over and over and over and over. I can't even remember my cell phone number. Not to mention, that the privilege of sitting on your butt and doing absolutely nothing in an ashram costs thousands of dollars. Oh and I'd need to hire my own personal guru to help me master the exquisite art of meditation. Mo' money. Mo' money.

    Don't get me wrong. I know people who do this sort of thing and I'm not mocking them. Really I'm not. I admire their tenacity, their inner calmness and their proclivity for transcendental self-exploration. In many ways I wish I could follow this kind of spiritual quest. But I simply do not have the patience. My gosh, I don't even knit.

    So after careful consideration, a couple glasses of wine, some fast calculating and a distaste for all things hot, humid and crawling...I decided that an ashram in India is not for me after all. But I have uncovered a personal self-truth. The way for me to pursue my own sense of peace, harmony and tranquility is with a good, old-fashioned...afternoon nap. Pure blissful luxury and it's free. No guru required. Sphere: Related Content
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