Ok…as a minivan driving, father of three, this video just cracked me up. Thanks to my buddy Dave (another minivan dad) for sharing the love. Peace out. Word. (ok…so I’m not cool.)
Sometimes you just need to laugh. I figure Friday is as good a day as any. Sometimes it’ll be a picture, a joke, a quote, a thought…or something completely stupid I did or said the previous week. This one came from my mom. I don’t know who the artist is, but if you do, let me know. I’d love to give credit and link to their work.
I know I said I was going off the grid for a week, and now that turned into two weeks plus. I actually have been back on the grid, but coming back from a completely unplugged vacation I learned a few things about going unplugged. In no particular order…
Going off the grid is good for the brain. Since I didn’t do ANY blogging, Facebook, or Twitter for a week, it removed all the temptation to do one while doing another. I don’t think I could just stop doing Facebook, or Twitter, or blogging. They seem to go hand in hand. And once I fully unplugged from them all it was like hitting the reset button on my brain. Only took about a day or two before I wasn’t thinking “Oh…I should post that, tweet that, write about that.”
Writing/Tweeting has it’s own rhythm. Once I got back – as you can see – getting back into the rhythm isn’t easy. So much to catch up on. Other things to do. No longer near the top of my brain space. Even when I thought “I should write/blog/tweet about this” I just didn’t do it. Started using the word later a lot. Dangerous, dangerous word.
I missed the conversation. The thing I love the most about writing is the conversation that happens when I do. Some people love to write just to get thoughts out of their head and into a journal or blog. Don’t get me wrong – I find enjoyment and value in that as well. But it’s the conversation I really missed. The comments. The additional thoughts. The pushback. Basically…I missed you.
And now I’m back…good to see you again.
Yesterday I ended my blog post on purging with a line from a poem. Here’s the whole thing:
Treasures
One by one He took them from me,
All the things I valued most,
Until I was empty-handed;
Every glittering toy was lost.
And I walked earth’s highways, grieving.
In my rags and poverty.
Till I heard His voice inviting,
"Lift your empty hands to Me!"
So I held my hands toward heaven,
And He filled them with a store
Of His own transcendent riches,
Till they could contain no more.
And at last I comprehended
With my stupid mind and dull,
That God COULD not pour His riches
Into hands already full!