My spouse has just entered the house, asking why there is wrapping paper on the table.
Uh, because I have little brain matter left, I respond.
I had just finished re-wrapping an early b-day gift for my daughter. It has suddenly become quite warm here and while I have been asking (nagging) her to pick out some shorts either online or in the myriad of clothing stores I've taken her to recently, she has yet to find something she likes and as such, only has one pair at the moment, which was dirty. I had bought her a stylish pair for her b-day, wrapped them up earlier this week and today, decided to let her open it.
Well, no, not exactly.
I opened them in a moment of mild frustration, hiding the other item inside the package, and told her she could wear these instead (again reminding - nagging her that she needed to get busy and pick out another pair or two).
Yeah, yeah, mom, I know, I know.
A sentence often heard 'round these parts now.
I sit here - a rare moment of quiet and solitude. The scent of carrot cake wafts by me. I had just put it in the oven when I remembered I wanted to re-wrap her gift with the remaining clothes item. Not that it looked horrible. Well, ok, it really did. I tried to fix it, but quickly realized that would involve far too much tape and considering I already had a cut on my finger due to yard work earlier and a healing cut literally 1.5" below that on the knuckle, I decided I didn't want to risk further injury with a tape dispenser.
So, I started over again with a new sheet of paper, got it quickly wrapped and forgot about the roll I had placed on the kitchen table. It's still there, btw. (it is some collective thing that when mom forgets to do something everyone in the family will point it out, but no one will actually put said item away??)
Where was I?
Cake, yes, cake. Did I set the timer. Hold on - brb....
Yes, I remembered to do that.
So again, sitting here reflecting in silence, I ponder the question I've been asked all week: What do I want for Mother's Day?
Hmmm.
What do I want. What do I want.
What do I REALLY want.
It may sound lame and cheesy, but I want world peace.
World Frigging Peace.
THAT is what I really want.
I want all of this division to end.
Politics and left and right.
Religion and whose "god" is the REAL god?
Wars. Endless frigging wars. Who is the good guy, who is the bad guy? Who is right and who is wrong?
(Am I the only one hearing Buffalo Springfield at the moment?)
Velveeta or cheddar.
(had to throw in a joke - i was getting far too serious)
And yet - I am being serious.
What happens when tragedy strikes? When calamity hits? Who are the real heroes?
Ordinary people.
Real humans. With real hearts. And with NO motives other than following that inner human desire to help out someone in need.
These big outfits of government and religion and politics that we allow to create little walls around us called OPINIONS and BELIEFS (and notice there are two NO's in opinion and LIE in beliefs) - with their media pundits telling US what opinion to hold and what to believe - do they ever do anything truly useful? Have they EVER solved that age old question of why don't we have world peace? Those who don't want it - which for me is obviously the very outfits I just mentioned - seem to me to be psychopathic in nature - and only psychopaths want suffering and chaos and trauma. They have quite the game going - keeping us so busy working to "pay the man" - most too tired to do anything different at the end of the day.
Maybe we can though.
Maybe, instead of spending money on one of their corporate holidays (Mother's Day), we reflect on that concept of World Peace. What will it take to create it? What does that look like? And we talk about that with our friends, our families.
It's something I think about - often - have for over 30 years.
So maybe this Mother's Day I will use the time to talk with my daughter about peace. What is it. What does it take to create it.
Yes, I think I will do that.
While she is rubbing my feet.
(hey, I have to pick something easily achievable too)
That is all for now.
Love,
Victoria