Category: general

general

like sands through the hourglass…

abby mumford

we’ve all been there WAITING for the phone to ring, for the job offer, for the sun to shine, for the letter of acceptance, for the light to change, for the plane to take off, for the time to speak up, for dinner to be ready, for the doorbell to ring, for the words to develop, for the text to buzz through, for the medicine to kick in, for him to make his move, for sleep to come, for the email to show up, for the company to arrive, for the time to be right, for the shadows to dissipate, for the traffic to clear, for the whistle to blow, for the other shoe to drop.

the question is, what do you do while waiting? how do you keep yourself busy when all you want to do is watch the pot boil? how do you deal with the lack of control over events that could shape for your life? how do you keep your mind on track when all it wants to do is daydream? how do you keep up the momentum when you must wait for other words to marinate?

how do YOU wait patiently?

general

guest post: grandpa

abby mumford

my dad’s dad is a whiz with a computer. he probably knows and can do more than i can, but the thing i appreciate the most is that he’s a diligent reader of my blog. on the days i post, he either comments on the actual post (sometimes with a history lesson) or he’ll email me a quote he’s found that relates to the topic i’ve written about or because it’s something that reminded him of me. (all together now, awwwwww.) and now i present to you some of the awesomeness my grandfather shared with me:

There are a thousand thoughts lying within a woman that she does not know till she takes up a pen to write.
-William Makepeace Thackeray, novelist (1811-1863)

The secret of good writing is to say an old thing in a new way or a new thing in an old way.
-Richard Harding Davis, journalist and author (1864-1916)

‘I learned her name was Proverb’ by Denise Levertov

And the secret names
of all we meet who lead us deeper
into our labyrinth
of valleys and mountains, twisting valleys
and steeper mountains-
their hidden names are always,
like Proverb, promises:
Rune, Omen, Fable, Parable,
those we meet for only
one crucial moment, gaze to gaze,
or for years know and don’t recognize

but of whom later a word
sings back to us
as if from high among leaves
still near but beyond sight

drawing us from tree to tree
towards the time and the unknown place
where we shall know
what it is to arrive.

thanks for unwittingly writing a guest post for me, grandpa!

keep ’em coming.