Ponderable

Life happens all day long.  Some days are peaceful, almost boring.  Others are hectic, almost frenetic, and anywhere in between.  Then we go to sleep.  While we sleep, we put it all away.  Then we awaken and start all over again, only it isn't quite from the same place, is it? No, not quite.  Then add up all the days and you have a lifetime.  How far from where it started depends on all that has happened as it incrementally transformed us.  This is ponderable.

It happens.  It just happens.  It seems like we should be able to manage it, but we can't.  It happens, regardless.  Some it is shaped by our dreams, some of it is shaped shaped by habits, by impressions, by influences past, by our appetites, some of it is like a game played in competition with another, over whom we have no control.  All of it happens, all of it gets processed, reconciled, put into perspective, and put away for reference, or not.  The cumulative effect is who we are, what we do, how we respond.

That all of it disappears when the body dies seems like such a waste.  On the other hand, if all of what happened has value to a core-being that continues to exist, then it would be of, more or less, permanent value.

From Shakespeare: 

Sleep that knits up the ravell’d sleave of care,
The death of each day’s life, sore labour’s bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature’s second course,
Chief nourisher in life’s feast.’”** Open Source Shakespeare+1

A Professional Appearance

It is the day of the performance.  It began as would any other of my days, forty minutes in the Fitness Center. Today doing tumbling and the loaded carry, one of three rotating routines, which would be on my schedule for today.  I returned to the apartment with our lunch.

Afterwards, I donned my costume, black pants and coat with tails, white shirt, a black string tie, and chin whiskers, finished with a top hat.  Sheridan was found, with my mic, which we tested.  Faye, the accompanist, appeared and sat at the piano in front of the stage in the theater.  She softly played The Battle Hymn of the Republic.

People came in and filled the theater seats. Sheridan took the stage and did her American history presentation to the point of the Civil War.  When Lincoln's picture appeared on the screen, I turned on my mic and stepped to the middle of the space between the audience and the stage, at floor level.

There, I delivered a preamble, which I had prepared, to historically set the stage.  When I said, "I think they are ready to announce me." Sheridan said, "The President of the United States."

I mounted the steps to the stage, put my top hat on the podium, and gave the Gettysburg Address, from center stage.  It was well received by all. In my humble opinion it was a professional performance, celebrating the 250th Birthday of our great nation.