NaBloPoMo

Okay, to whoever still comes by here to see what is happening: November is NaBloPoMo and I am going to take this opportunity to attempt to get back into the habit of blogging regularly. See? I have my badge and everything! Facebook is all right, but it does not seem to do as much for me as blogging does (or used to do for me--will the fun return?).

We will see how things go. I may post this today and that may be all I post. I am a bit concerned about what I will find to write about. The NaBloPoMo site will be putting up daily prompts so I may use some of those. I am considering taking a workshop on photography as a contemplative practice so that may also give me inspiration. I think this will be a month of eclectic musings. I do have a blogging app on my phone, so I could conceivably post a quick quote or simple observation every day. Or I could post a phone photo. So I do have options! Stay tuned!

If you do come around to comment, I will try my best to acknowledge your presence. And I will try to reciprocate with comments to your blogs. Please remember that most of my Facebook friends have no clue about the existence of my alter ego Annie Oddflower nor of this blog. I'd really like to keep it that way, so I'd be grateful if you'd help me out with that!

Okay--here is to small starts, persistent paths and perhaps clumsy finishes!

Loss

I've lost an old and dear friend, an earnest soul from way back in my past with whom I recently reconnected. We were gonna catch up with each other. He called a couple of weeks ago at an inconvenient time for me and I did not answer the phone. I thought he'd leave a message and I'd get back to him. He didn't, I didn't, and now he's gone. Oh the regrets -the loss- of not taking the time to be inconvenienced a bit for an old friend.

He had a massive heart attack sometime last week and remained in a coma until he died yesterday morning. He was my old youth pastor, one of my earliest mentors. Part of the inconvenience of his phone call was my own discomfort at knowing how different I am now from the "kid" he remembered from back then. And yet, he saw things in me and encouraged me and challenged me in his own way and now, in hindsight, I feel that the reconnection would have been worth the discomfort. How many good things do I miss because I am unwilling to suffer through and move past my own discomfort?