Friday, January 11, 2013

Still Here

Oh, so much has been going on, and I haven't found the time to take a moment to catch up on blogging. First, I have to ask those of faith--any faith at all--to please send prayers and healing thoughts to my brother. He's been in the hospital on life support with diabetic ketoacidosis. I'm happy to say he is off the breathing machine now, but he's still not fully responsive. He has a long road of healing and life adjustments to make, which won't be easy, but with support and our collective caring, he will.

Also I'm all booked to go to Egypt with a friend (and a group of fellow Rosicrucian students) at the end of May. Hopefully the political situation there will have calmed down a bit by then. If it's not safe to travel, then the State Department won't let us travel, but it sounds like it's shaping up to be a wonderful trip. We'll visit the Pyramids, of course, and Luxor and the Temple of Karnak, and the Abu Simbel temple, the Valley of the Kings, and other places such as the Temples of Isis and Hathor, including a 3-day cruise on the Nile River. I've been reading a book on interpreting ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs and boy, are they a mind bender. So far the main problem I'm encountering when transliterating is that the symbols making up a particular word don't have to be in any particular order. They may go from right to left or left to right and then up and down or down and up, depending on the available space and how the arrangement of letters would fit. They also often leave out vowels as well and only put in the consonants. I was hoping to learn enough to at least be able to read some of the glyphs in the temples, but I'm not sure how much I'll actually be able to master by May, what with school in session. Oh well, at least I'll know what a cartouche is when I see one.

Beyond this, I've started dipping into Tom Campbell's My Big Toe trilogy (see several posts below), which is a colossal book. Between it and hieroglyphs and student essays, I suspect that will comprise the majority of reading I do over the next several months.

I remain sober and happily so.

I laugh more at absurdities and keep asking the big questions--what does it all mean? I feel lately like more of a receiver than a transmitter. I'm not sure I have any answers except for tons of possibilities. But what is life, if not a journey and a process?

And this sums it up. There's a fire crackling in the fireplace, and Jerry is sprawled out on a blanket in front of it roasting himself. Spaghetti sauce is bubbling on the stove. I'm still here.


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