Continuum

Perhaps more than history, I am fascinated by the comparisons that can be made to the world when it was seen only in black and white: the struggles so different then and yet so evidently the same now, even in our modern, varied kaleidoscope of digitized color with its illusion of perfection. I love to see relationships captured unknowingly, the innocence and guilelessness of eras gone by, and the culmination of accomplishment earned through hard work with its adherence to traditional values. Real values. Sustaining values.

I feel as though this is why black and white photos both intrigue and beguile me; they give me pause to evaluate in the now, truths that have remained steadfast and so relevant even through the ticking clock of unrelenting age. It ignites my thoughts, sending them into rampant dissection, one leaking into another and another -- an exegetic foray into processing a multiplicity of themes.

And I'm unwittingly caught in a moment suspended from dates and markers of every kind, as the richness of humanity steals over my heart, and I'm helpless but to feel its message slide into my soul. Then. And now.

I find it interesting that social behaviors and human thought patterns are proverbially chained and fully constrained to time, hours, and calendar dates, rather than a sweeping flow in continuum. I wonder what attitudes would change if we would repudiate expiration dates in totality to live as if forever. Would there be more continuity of being and a solid commitment to character, choices, and self-responsibility? Would there be less stops and starts, an absence of anxiety, and maybe the utter rejection of haste, "busy"ness, and therefore waste?

It brings me to a perfect beginning to a beautiful Sunday: contemplation and contentment. Family. The ins and outs of communication, expectation, desires, direction, and even the want for abiding peace. To be eager for far-off goals and yet to seize, with fortitude and fearlessness, combinations of joy and determination, the essence and sanctity of each experience available for our fulfillment in every moment as we have them.

To cherish always, no matter what.

It is a cold winter morning today; frost arrogantly gleams in vanity as it lords its crystal dressing gown upon the grasses. The house still sleeps even though the sun is just barely peeking through the sky. And, oh! How I've been lost in so very many photos from yesteryear and my ancestry. Generations, family, struggle, commonality, history. Heritage. It fuels my soul and ignites my being, for it surely confirms that each of us are more than we ever think ourselves to be.

Good morning, Sunday. Attached is a throwback article written about my grandfather, Frank Cyrus Carman.

Legacy.

Living Joy - This Carman Girl