“….the edge of the ledges I’ve made”

 

Here’s a new song by a young guy.

“Ledges” Noah Gundersen

“Here…I stand on the edge of the ledges I’ve made….looking for a steady hand.”

Ahhhh, that is really nice.

Sometimes I try and dig too deep….and dig in the wrong place.

what-me-worry

I wonder and worry about things that don’t do me any good.

I worry about my own situation….and I worry about things that happen to other people….I might even worry about things that happen to other people who I don’t even know.

I should be listening to some Bob Marley….listening to some Bobby McFerrin.

Worry never got me very far.

So…why worry?

Is worry the same as compassion? I kind of doubt it.

“Compassion” sounds action packed.

“Worry” sounds kind of impotent.

Enough talk about worrying.

I worry about saying the wrong thing.

Maybe all this talk about worry was the wrong thing to say?

I worry about the embarrassment of not really knowing what poison ivy looks like after all these years of being out in the woods, and then having someone ask me, “Didn’t you see it? It was all over the place?” as I furiously try not to itch my inflamed arms and face.

That’s embarrassing. I’m old enough to know better by now.

I only have 500 words that I’ve allotted myself for this blog every morning.

I can’t start cataloging my worries.

I’d use up all my words with worry.

That whole “worry” and “compassion” thing….that’s something to think about for a minute.

I worry like it’s a sign that I care.

I worry about what’s happening to the environment…but I don’t do much about it.

What can I do, anyway?

I can’t join a picket line or chain myself to a redwood.

I recycle….I guess that’s something.

It’s the stuff that I worry about that’s already happened that is really crazy.

Move on, doofus.

“Ledges” is a good way to describe the situation.

I will crawl right out to the terrifying edge just so I can know what it feels like to peer over into the abyss.

Nahhhh….I’ll probably just eat some more red licorice (I’m not supposed to eat that anymore…it gives you cancer. Dangit….I love red licorice. I don’t want cancer.)

Worry without any action to back it up is just such a crummy avocation.

It’s a terrible hobby.

It would be so healthy to just be able to take things at face value….and let it be whatever it is.

There’s no boogie man….there’s no hammer waiting to drop….nothing in the universe really wants to destroy me….

I should lighten up.

You know….I’m not like a really humorless Woody Allen.

I don’t spend every minute worrying.

I can be a blithe spirit.

I can move through the world with a pretty optimistic outlook.

Most of this is just talk….racing to my 500 word goal.

That is a great song by a good songwriter.

Check him out….”Noah Gundersen”.

I’m not worried about his talent….good writing.

It’s the “other stuff” that gets me worried sometimes.

About Peter Rorvig

I'm a non-practicing artist, a mailman, a husband, a father...not listed in order of importance. I believe that things can always get better....and that things are usually better than we think.

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