Lammas.

My true home is near the ocean. The southwest coast of Oregon is where I consider my closest ties to be. Many of my friends and family there have kept me motivated to do better, achieve more and take advantage of the benefits of living in the state's largest city. Still, I miss home.

Reading from my friends' journals (online or not) reminds me of how important it is to remain true to myself and to strive for better things. Part of that understanding goes into nearly everything I do. My writing, job, exercise, family care, everything. Some say I put too much on myself. That I would be better off not feeling like the weight of the world rested solely on my shoulders. Well, it does and it does not. If I wish to achieve all that I can, then motivation like this should help me focus on its importance. However, knowing that it will have a limited effect on a global scale allows me to look more kindheartedly upon my actions.

I'm not out to change the entire world for the better, just the small corner of it to which I feel the closest. My family, friends and acquaintances are fine reminders of what I'm really on the Earth to do: live well and do well.

Sue Bee typified this sentiment today with a poem that I'd like to share:

The chill morning air returns
this Lammas morning.
Grasses yellow to golden
in the blanket of early sun.
Wild rosehips plump and
blackberries ooze with sweet syrups.
The wild birds sing songs
of the approaching fall
and all the smells entwined
make a cornacopia of delights.
The deer frolic and the fish start to grow
and the apples are so abundant
that a visualization
of brown crusted baked pies
dances in my mind with the
sweet scents of cinnamon and spice.

S.B., 1 August 2006.

Happy harvests and Lammas blessings to all.

To us all, indeed.