A Pale Horse Named Death, Amish, blogging, comments, grieving, heartbreak, pearls before swine, postaday, revelations, therapy, Writing
… or so the person who commented yesterday called himself. For I will assume this is a man.
So I said to myself … self, that sounds familiar.
A quick Google Search … Bible … Revelations … let’s see here.
First horse … a white one … given crown … “went forth conquering, and to conquer.”
Nope not that.
Second horse … red … given power … “take peace from the earth, and that they should kill one another: and there was given unto him a great sword.”
Gulp. No, not that either.
Third horse … a black one … given a pair of balances … “A measure of wheat for a penny, and three measures of barley for a penny; and see thou hurt not the oil and the wine.”
Oh good. I was afraid for a minute it was going to say a lawyer.
Fourth horse … a pale one … Death, and Hell followed with him … “And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth.”
Well, I did have a bad day yesterday … and the day before … but Death? And Hell following with him? Maybe I am in one of the other three parts of the earth.
And I always enjoy getting comments on any of my posts, from whatever parts. Always makes me happy.
So … here is his comment:
Does a “Happy Holly thing” have a definition or a standard to be met beyond simply the fact that you dragged it out of yourself and found the will and power to share it via the blog (by virtue of which what has been offered might otherwise be seen as entitled to the name)?
Excellent question, I thought. Maybe a little intellectual, but excellent nonetheless. After all, I can be a little intellectual sometimes. Emphasis on little. So I responded saying I would write about it all today.
Which I am.
Okay, in answer to his question, what I probably should have written was this …
Dear Mr. Horse,
Instead I figured that today was a good opportunity to explain about the Happy Holly Project … for any folks who may be new readers to this blog.
But before I got started today, Mr. Horse added to his comment of yesterday … with another quote.
Ahh! Or perhaps better stated: A-ha! I just saw the bottom of the page, and I see now the standard which must be met, to wit: that the something you do is to be done for no other reason than to make yourself happy. I take it that your sign-off on this article means that you did something on the site by posting your comments but you left without having made yourself happy. Might I suggest that in ascertaining the nature of happiness maybe the focus should be less on the content of what you have posted in evaluating the attainment of happiness and more simply on having performed the process of excavating something from inside of you and putting it out there for the world to see.
For whatever reason memories of Charlie Brown in school flashes through my mind … but I digress. Probably ought not offend Pale Horses, Death and any Hell riding along.
So … about the Happy Holly Project.
I do not share much about my private life here. Stories, yes. Private stuff, no.
But in the not too distant past my heart was broken. Badly. It happens.
And I sought solace in blogging in a private online diary. You know … woe is me … how could he have … you dirty rotten … well you get the picture. And it helped me immensely. Great therapy.
But of course I was focusing on, grieving through and writing about very sad stuff. That was the whole point of the thing. Dump it there … don’t carry it around. No matter how transient the thought. Dump it.
I did a lot of dumping in those early days.
Miserable reading to say the least. You would think I was ready to jump off a bridge or something.
So last summer My Friend Ann made the suggestion that I do something each and every day … something positive … something happy … for no other reason than to make myself happy. And then, to make sure I continued on this path, I would write about it in an online blog.
Kind of like telling your best friends you are going on a diet.
So every day I observe the ironies of life … the I Love Lucy kinds of moments that only I seem to have. (see anything in the Humor category) Like the bat … and the field mouse in the dip … and the stupidest bird ever … Santa mowing my lawn.
Sometimes it is a poem. Some days it is a Bob Newhart type conversation with an unknown caller … or with my inner thoughts.
Sometimes it is a story with a surprise ending. Sometimes it is spun out of whole cloth … but with some connection to my day.
There are several stories of my dealing with the Amish around here. And the renovation of my house.
Sometimes it is planned like The Groundhogs Of Jefferson County which I planned for Groundhogs Day … or riding the worlds Oldest Roller Coaster for Roller Coaster Day.
Sometimes it has nothing to do with Happy. Sometimes that happens too.
Food is a recurring theme. As is the joy I get just from the writing. And the people and followers and comments and countries who read me. And Pearls Before Swine cartoon strips.
I was going to do links to all of these stories I’ve just mentioned, but I think I will leave the readers to look around in the archives themselves.
But all of it gets me out of myself … and forces me to look for the good … the humorous … the ironic … the Happy.
And that makes me Happy indeed.
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