Yesterday, I noticed there was a problem with the numbering of my posts, so I went back in time and discovered my mistake.
Do you see the problem with the number there? My numerical dyslexia caused me to write “2184” instead of “2148” for the “Don’t miss the drama” post. My excuse for that mistake is that I wrote that post soon after being driven in a terrible snowstorm to NYC for a group therapy conference two years ago.
No matter what the excuse, I knew it would take many hours to correct all the subsequent numbers, but I got right down to it.
Since then, I’ve renumbered all of the posts correctly, and found a bunch of unanswered comments on the way. This is why I am so late posting my correctly numbered post today.
Let’s see what number of other images I have to share with you today.
It took a lot of thinking to fix this blog numerically, but now it’s done!
Yesterday, when I was trying to remain sane amidst insanity in the USA, I took this photo:
I think the world liked us better when we were sane.
What’s helping you stay sane during these insane times? Personally, I’m blogging, taking photos, walking around with my Sharpie looking for sanity, and listening to music.
I’m also staying sane by enjoying Michael’s delicious cooking, like swordfish on a roasted red pepper purée with mashed potatoes and mixed vegetables.
Let’s try to stay sane together by listening to yesterday’s pictured playlist (here, here, here, here, and here on YouTube).
Now I’m imagining the supporters of our insane President singing “Button off My Shirt.”
I heard the word going ’round town They say you’re making a fool out of me Baby, it took me some time to come ’round To realize you were not what you seem Each day passing The clock is my friend Help me get back on my feet again Like a button off of my shirt Just an everyday distraction You’d be over-reacting if you think that I still hurt You’re just a button off of my shirt And someday I will replace you I don’t care what I have lost You got what you deserve I was down, down, down I’m not the first I won’t be the last To make the mistake of believing in you I don’t intend to live in the past Just like they say Some you win, some you lose You never loved me and you made it plain Now it’s my turn and I’m playing your game Like a button off of my shirt Just an everyday distraction You’d be over-reacting if you think that I still hurt You’re just a button off of my shirt And some day I will replace you I don’t care what I have lost You got what you deserve (Love and affection) You started (changing directions) You threw it away You never loved me and you made it plain Now it’s my turn to make you understand Like a button off of my shirt Just an everyday distraction You’d be over-reacting if you think that I still hurt You’re just a button off of my shirt And someday I will replace you I don’t care what I have lost You got what you deserved Like the button off of my shirt Just an everyday distraction You’d be over-reacting if you think that I still hurt You’re just a button off of my shirt And someday I will replace you I don’t care what I have lost You got what you deserved Like a button off of my shirt Just an everyday distraction You’d be over-reacting if you think that I still hurt You’re just a button off of my shirt And someday I will replace you.
Your irreplaceable comments also keep me sane and so does expressing gratitude to all who help me blog daily, including YOU!
It’s for you that I write these blog posts. But it’s also for me. As I encounter so many ups and downs in life, blogging every morning strengthens me for the day ahead.
It’s for you that I’m trying out a new, unfamiliar-to-me editor as I blog today. But it’s also for me (to increase my confidence about using new technology as I prepare to host my 50th high school reunion on Zoom).
It’s for you that I captured all these images, but it’s also for me.
It’s for you and for me that I realize that “It’s for you” would make a good caption for this:
It’s for you that I have a comments section but it’s also for me.
It’s for you and for me that I collect images of gratitude to end these posts.
I’m grateful that writing this post with the new editor was much easier than I expected! This reminds me of the helpful cognition I’m working on in EMDR therapy:
I can trust myself, which allows me to figure out who else to trust.
Thanks to Pat, Lyle, Harley, Michael (for the burritos), the South Shore of Boston, our neighborhood church, our neighbors, snowy and not-so-snowy egrets, WordPress, and YOU.
A ZOOM training session to help with my upcoming 50th High School Reunion.
My 50th High School Reunion.
Th U.S. Presidential Election.
Magnificence.
The rest of my recent photos:
Harley hasn’t been as skittish, lately, when I’ve been approaching.
What’s been approaching, for you?
Every day, I encourage myself and others to be approaching what feels left unsaid, so we can be approaching a good enough sense of closure. Why? Because we never know when our last day is approaching.
For years, my excuse for not writing more was that I did not like doing things alone. Writing, I was not alone in realizing, is what most people do alone, and I thought I would only enjoy writing if I collaborated with other people.
However, for seven-and-a-half years (which I, alone, am counting), I have been writing this daily blog alone. Actually the lone exception to that is when my then-boyfriend, now-husband Michael wrote two blog posts alone when I was having open heart surgery four years ago (here and here). In the past, when I had heart-related surgery I felt very alone, but that time I did not feel alone at all.
Which leads me to why writing this blog alone comes easily to me: it’s because I don’t feel alone while writing these daily posts. How could I feel alone when I know that all of you are out there?
If you see the theme of alone in these images from yesterday, you are not alone.
Aaron alone knows how much I dislike having my name misspelled and I loved how he and his friend Camilla greeted me there. I hope I am not alone in appreciating Aaron’s sense of humor.
Nine hundred and twenty-four imperfect days ago (but what imperfect person is counting?)*, I imperfectly published an imperfect blog post titled Day 1682: Imperfections.
It’s time for another imperfect blog post, inspired by this imperfect photo from yesterday:
I’m wondering if anybody is going to ask me for more information about that Imperfect van. My imperfect response is this: “I know as much as you know.”
It may be imperfect not to know, but I’m glad we can all be imperfect together.
“Have no fear of perfection. You’ll never reach it.” — Salvador Dali
“To banish imperfection is to destroy expression, to check exertion, to paralyze vitality.” — John Ruskin
“One of the basic rules of the universe is that nothing is perfect. Perfection simply doesn’t exist …Without imperfection neither you nor I would exist.” — Stephen Hawking
“Imperfections are not inadequacies; they are reminders that we are all in this together.” — Brené Brown
“If we keep being fair despite the injustices against us, in the end life will reward us, I believe. The world isn’t fair, because it’s imperfect. Right and wrong coexist. But we should stick to morality to make the world become better.” — Maria Karvouni
“Practice doesn’t make perfect. Practice reduces the imperfection.” — Toba Beta
“Practice does not make perfect. Imperfect makes us practice.” — Mokokoma Mokhonoana
“The more I feel imperfect, the more I feel alive.” — Jhumpa Lahiri
“Laughing at one’s imperfections is the best way to cure them …Let us live foolishly, mistakenly, imperfectly, and be content. ” — Marty Rubin
“I believe that the measure of my soul is my ability to love imperfect people.” — Joseph Grenny
“Delight in the pursuit, surrender to imperfection, and marvel at the wonder — as you observe what is.” — Julianne O’Connor
Here are the other imperfect images I imperfectly captured yesterday:
To me, the world seems considerably more imperfect because of the passing of jazz keyboardist Lyle Mays. Here‘s a wordless tribute Jacob Collier posted on YouTube two days after Lyle’s death:
If you leave an imperfect comment below, I will respond with an imperfect reply.
Imperfect thanks to all who help me create these imperfect posts, every day.
* After I published this post, I noticed that I had imperfectly calculated today’s numbers. I corrected those imperfections; the ones that remain are just less obvious.
Yesterday, when I was walking down the street with my feet first, I heard “Feet First” from the album Street Dreams by the late, great keyboardist Lyle Mays.
My first thought was “Tomorrow’s blog is going to include ‘Feet First’ and photos with feet!”
The first photo I took was of my own feet on the street.
And as I walked through the day with my feet first, I realized, again, how much it helps to take life one step at a time.
Here are the other feet I captured yesterday:
Now it’s time for me to step through another day, feet first.
Thanks to Lyle Mays, artists, cats, and all who help me step through life feet first, including YOU!
Who has time to read carefully these days, with all the information pouring in?
Nevertheless, I am going to read carefully before voting in the Massachusetts primary election by absentee ballot. If you read carefully, over the next few moments, you will discover that I need an absentee ballot because I’ll be attending a week-long group therapy conference in New York City the first week of March.
Read carefully when you look at my other photos from yesterday.
If you read this daily blog carefully, you know I’ve been mourning the death of jazz keyboardist Lyle Mays all this week. Last night, when I was reading my recorded Stephen Colbert shows carefully, I noticed that keyboardist and band leader Jon Batiste was also carefully paying homage to Lyle by interjecting a musical phrase by Lyle during Stephen’s monologue:
If you read that video carefully, you’ll find the sounds of Lyle at 2:44, 4:14, 7:26, and 9:46.
Here’s “Close to Home,” the Lyle Mays composition that Jon Batiste was carefully reading and sharing.
If I read carefully, I always realize that I am not alone.
If you leave a comment, of course I will read carefully and respond.
Read carefully and you’ll see that I’m grateful for all who help me create this daily blog, including YOU.
