This is the second day in a row I heard the distinct wild cackle of a piliated woodpecker.  I strained to spot it in the woods across from me but no luck.  In eight years I have only seen one three or four times.

The first time I spotted a really large bird alight on a stump eighty yards away.  I quickly ran in the house to grab my binoculars and then was able to identify it.  It is an over twelve inch high exotic looking bird with a red crest.

They have somewhat come back for the woods have grown back.  I don’t know why it was so important for me to actually see the bird but it was.  Nevertheless, I was thrilled to hear its call and know it was in the neighborhood again.

I feel bad for our cat Slinky:  she is dying from a tumor.  I am not sure we can do anything about it.  She is a black female cat, somewhat timid but very affectionate, over eight years old.

We have a total of eight cats and four dogs.  That still does not make it any easier.  We could give her a cat scan, which might indicate whether the tumor is treatable but it is very expensive.

I am torn.  She was sitting on my lap just a few days ago and I realized how much I loved her.  It is so hard to let go.  I imagine some of my other pets dying.  I know they will but my mind is balking at the thought of any of them dying.

I love each pet.  Each pet is different and has a distinct personality.  And I have a special relationship with each.

I believe God has put pets in our lives to teach us to let go and love again.  We usually outlive them.  It is so hard to see any of them die.

It is so easy to center on what you do not have.  And this always leads to unhappiness.  It is so easy to do:  center on what you lack.  The commercials in the media feed on this.  If you buy their product you will be happy and fulfilled.  Sex is used to sell everything.

Our gross national product is based mostly on consumer buying so this is no accident.  Start centering on your many riches and be satisfied with what you got.  The best things are free.  Love has no cost.  The things that matter the most can be freely given:  acceptance, love and an ear to those closest to you.

It is true:  you need the basics:  food and shelter.  God just needs to provide you with that.  Poverty has always existed in this world.  And we are commanded to help those in need around us.

But we desire so much beyond that.  And it always makes us unhappy.  And I struggle with that, too.  I know money is going to get tighter but if I can focus on everything I have, I will be happier.

I do not believe communication is better because you can do it almost instantaneously.  Communication is as hard as ever.  There are more wars going on in this world as ever.

Sure with the internet a message can be sent around the world in seconds.  So what!  It is just quicker to make mistakes in judgment.  Cell phones keep getting more sophisticated.  The saturation time has not changed.  You can absorb data no quicker.

Everywhere you go others can be seen with cell phones attached to their ears as if they grew there.  They really are a great distraction– one of many today.

True communication is always better face to face.  And it takes time.  And effort and the ability to listen to each other carefully and well.  None of that is any easier.

Maybe, even harder.  There is the delusion true communication is occurring.  It is as hard as ever.  That has not changed at all in this world of almost instantaneous communication.

The whole world has been revolutionized by the miniaturization of memory.  Gadget after gadget.  Cell phones are one major example.  You do not just make calls on them.  They are small hand held computers.  With gazillions of gigabytes of memory enabling it to do almost anything.  And the beat goes on.  Every day something new comes out.  All inventions are possible because computer chips keep getting smaller and cheaper and can hold more memory.  I really do not feel I have to jump on the band wagon and buy the latest gadget.  It will not necessarily make my life better.  I have too many distractions in my life already.

The winter was thirty days in:  one third officially done.  I have to remind myself of that.  Before I know it it will be done.  Winter is not my favorite season:  I do not like the cold, but spring is.  Of course, I might not appreciate spring as much if I did not have to bear the season before.  It is just a thought to consider.

Nothing had changed from yesterday and today.  Yesterday I was depressed.  And today I was not.  The only difference I could gather was that last night I got a solid night sleep.  Sometimes the explanation for a depression is that simple:  I was overly fatigued.  And the depression lifts after a good night sleep.  It is that simple.  There is no complicated psychological reason.

The depression was totally physical.  I sometimes forget that.  I always have to look at that first.  It could be that simple.  I am aware I have a tendency to become depressed when I don’t sleep well and enough.  Or overdo it or both.  Every one is different.  I just have to respect my limits.

Nothing extraordinary happened yet a series of events followed.  And they all mattered.  I was depressed.  I did not know why but I got my body moving and focused on things outside of me.

I did mundane things like feeding our dogs and cats and filling their water bowls.  I stepped out of the house briefly and realized it was an absolutely gorgeous day in January–forty-four degrees and I wanted to spend part of the day outside.

I scattered sunflower seed and regular bird seed on the ground.  I filled one bird feeder with sunflower seed.  I know I will stare out my living window and watch the antics of the birds during the day.

I did other tasks like taking out the trash.  The discovery of my new mittens which I had misplaced brought a smile to my face.  I reminded myself we had dinner in the refrigerator.  I made a pot roast last night and there was still plenty left over.

I was still depressed but I was physically moving which was a good thing.  Sometimes you just don’t know exactly why you are depressed but I know it will end.  I did not give in to it.  That was the important thing.  I don’t always understand my moods.

Each person gives what they can.  It is not always what you want.  Nevertheless, you have to appreciate their time.  My wife had started a project a few days ago of copying my blogs to the hard drive–something that took her hours.

I realized that yesterday she had finished transferring the rest of my blogs to our computer.  I did not realize she was working most of the day.

I needed to acknowledge the greatest gift she could give of herself her time.  And thank her for it.  So when she gets up, I need to show her I appreciate the hours she spent on the project.

I write only non-fiction.  At least I call it that.  I have not been able to write fiction.  In fact, the prospect of attempting that has me terrified.

I know a fellow writer who has the opposite problem:  she is terrified of writing non-fiction.  I find that interesting.

There are authors I have seen who do both–write non-fiction as well as fiction.  To me that is also interesting.  I wonder what percent of authors can do both.  I really have no idea.

It would be interesting to me to explore that.  My mind just rebels every time I even consider writing fiction.

Should I just accept that?  Or should I explore further if I am able to compose fiction or just leave it at that:  I only write non-fiction and that is okay.

It is so hard to retrace your steps.  I can’t tell you the year but I do precisely remember visiting some relatives.  They were both artists.  And for the first time someone did not tell me what to do, what to believe.  I felt accepted and listened to for the first time.

When you are a child, whatever your particular reality, it is yours.  My parents were dysfunctional (and I know every family is) but I was used to being told how I should be.  All the time.  To them, there was only one way to do something–their way.

My visit was a turning point.  There was another way.  I was not even aware of it.  Later, I only felt free walking Greenwich Village.  Then later still –the journey took years– I felt free every where but I still remember that first time.  It was a turning point.  There was another way to be.  It became okay to be me and different.

People are housed in different prisons.  Sometimes it is their circumstances or attitudes that can imprison them.  Let’s just talk about the first.

I have a friend who can not easily leave the house.  His wife needs around the clock care and she gets very anxious when he is not not there.

How many people think nothing of stepping out of their house and getting a burger, maybe, at the nearby McDonald’s and shopping at their local supermarket?

It is a simple freedom yet there are those that are home bound that can not partake of them so easily for different reasons.

His wife would do any thing in the whole world if she could do something as simple as give someone a hug.  And people, sometimes, complain about washing dishes.  She can’t do either:  she is paralyzed.

Sometimes you really do not know what you’ve got until you lose it.  And if you can get that simple freedom back you suddenly appreciate it more.  And sometimes you can’t go back.  It is lost forever and all you can do is mourn its loss.