- HubPages»
- Health»
- Quality of Life & Wellness»
- Personal Development
On The Wings of that Angel
When Do Start?
Wings are Great
I am thinking about this. I understand the wind beneath my wings. And I get poor folks who fly too high and melt their wings. Perhaps I understand the notion of rise and fall but maybe not in the sense here. I have a buddy Bill that talks about helping writers spread their wings and fly. It helps me but maybe I just really like the guy so I look at what he tells me in a good light.
There is another folk I like. He refers to the Lantern of love in many ways. I call him Manatita as I think that is what he likes. He gives me some “light” under my wings. (double entendre meant) I have this cool guy I call Sean he lifts my wings up in encouragement. And I get spiritual nourishment from my sister Linda (again double entendre meant)
This love fest is not an accident. It is a result of all the love I get.
Years ago my first wife and I took in children. Family or strays. She was just that way. Still is, bless her soul. My bride of over a decade and a half does the same with workers she knows. We buy new kid’s stuff constantly as she give so much away. Why was my closet full yesterday and near empty today and I took those two closed bags to the charity place? My loved ones play tricks on me in order to lift others up. They take so much from me. They rob me. And they make me so much in love with giving.
My mom or dad never set me down and explained how wings and love work. But I think maybe, heck for sure my children and wives have. Maybe seeing a nest in a tree with parents caring for the babies did too. Maybe dogs and cats taught me about it too. As you know, we do not make abstract opines here. All I ever have known what to do is write facts. And hopefully tell a story or two that rings/wrings true with us together. Questions I write about are musings of a near old man. Perhaps I am well weathered with you.
Wind and wings? Angels wings and Eagle’s wings. Nope, sometimes I just do not know the difference. I would like to think that somehow, you do and can fill me in.
Just Kickyy Back and Get Into It
Party Time Dierker Style
My Wife Really Lets Me Have So Much Fun
Just in January last I tracked a pair of owls. Generally they fall in love and mate for life. They actually cuddle with each other and their babes. A strange Genius or 20. They actually do like humans and “make love” as a sign of loving. We ain’t so unique.
But you track an owl by two things. Likely nest spots and their scat. Do not freak out. The study of animal scatology is a way of life in the wilderness. A coyote’s may tell us where edible berries are and the Owls “pellets” will tell you where the owl has been, meaning where food sources are. OK don’t freak out. Although quite alright for food in certain ways. I do not eat poop. As a general rule.
Did you know that in order to sneak up on a critter – even a Moose or Polar bear you need to eat pretty close to what they eat? Like in Asia if you want to sneak up on an enemy you had best eat rice and fish sauce and bathe in a canal. Meat eaters odor can be smelled miles away. Who would even think of such stuff except a weirdo like me? Crawling ten feet in one hour is a trip of meditation and oneness with earth.
Now we think of the wind. Yes the wind carries your odor. But the earth carries only so far as your body. Or should we say that the wind carries you high above and the earth grounds you. You get to think about such stuff covered with dirt tracking a snake. Surely too much information. When will Eric get home for dinner? Maybe after we have gone to bed son.
Once again back to the wind beneath our wings. Sometimes just a small dust devil, filled with earth and constant movement. Nothing you can catch but back again to tracking. It erases odor.
My wonderful lady which is beyond my imagination of love is the wind underneath my wings. Trouble is I rely on the updraft. When she is down I fall to the earth which is not where I do well. “Earth maybe” but not the world. I need the wind to stay afloat on currents of air that lift me up. I cannot soar without wind underneath my wings. Not my call of right or wrong. I hope you decide for yourself.
Mount Helena comes to mind. Do not ask me why. The Columbia Gorge comes to mind. Get understanding elsewhere and hopefully from within.
Yuk. But Now I Love Them and My Boy Says "Oh Boy".
So Lock Me Up I Was First Chair and Love Orchestras
My Elder Brother Said - Boy You Ain't Going Nowhere
I just love rambling but here in the hand I must plant my feet on solid ground. My son and I hug every day. We do a touchy feely love thing. About my half of cup of coffee and his groggy just brushed his teeth. We just sway back and forth. We are tethered to the earth and to each other. And yet when it gets us grounded it also lifts us up with wind beneath our wings for hopefully our full day.
Maybe we should talk about that. Or maybe we should not. Since about ’95 I tend to the side of “shut up Eric”. I hope a tiny nudge may open some dialogue. “Shoot the ball boy”. We have a mile to walk home today. I wonder what wind my son will put beneath my wings.
Please just carry me home son.
We were wondering about “raising”, good idea. Thank you. No not for me or mine except in some ways they are mine I do figure. There is something in the wind here. We feel love from all over. When you lift up another you lift up the Dierkers even if we do not know about it. Or maybe inside we do.
May I digress for a wonderful moment. Sure it may be just fine that you read my stuff at your leisure. I think we like each other. But slow a bit and think about how it would be to live with such a man. No there are practical things that just fly like a hawk over my head. Such as matters as a mud clod on the floor and I do not “disturb” it. My magnifying glass show life. That cannot be right but I am trying to move such things safely outside. In the here and now I cause more aggravation than is appropriate.
So my good lady turns to my good elder son. And we work through it so I can be a better man. Neigh on I am twice the age, yet he keeps teaching me and reminds me to love more and think less. What wind beneath my wings and how precious my wife cares enough to reach out in a positive manner.
Can you even imagine living with a husband with cancer? How about one who reads scripture for hours a day and cross pollinates plants by hand. The lady goes to sleep at night and wakes up in the morn. Sorry not me.
The only thing that keeps me sailing are those that blow the wind under my sails and wings. God bless to all of you.