Sunday, September 29, 2019

September 29, 2019


 ENVISIONING



Every  athlete,  every musician,
every  dancer,  every champion,
saw herself, saw himself,
dancing, prancing, running
for the touchdown, swimming
for the gold medal - as a kid,
as a fan in the stands, as a
dreamer on the sidelines -
otherwise they would never
have picked up the trombone,
or the tennis racket - or tried
out for the team or the band.
Practice. Practice. Practice.


© Andy Costello, Reflections 2019



September  29, 2019 - 

Thought for today: 

“People ask you for criticism, but they only want praise.” 


W. Somerset Maugham, Of Human Bondage, 1915

Saturday, September 28, 2019

September 28, 2019


GENUINE

At  any  given day or hour friends are toasting
each other - upon arrival and when departing.
So Jesus knew the human condition - when
he became our flesh and blood - when he said
with cup in hand, the night before he died,
“This is my blood - given, pulsing, poured 
out and shed for you each moment of life.”


© Andy Costello, Reflections 2019



GENUINE

It's wonderful when it's 

September  28, 2019 - 

Thought for today: 


“Laziness is often mistaken for patience.” 

French Proverb

Friday, September 27, 2019


THE   PARTING  GLASS

Someone heard the Irish folk song, "The Parting Glass" and wrote, "If my family does not have this song sung at my funeral, I will haunt them for the rest of their lives."

What song - what songs - do you want sung at your funeral?  

Now that's a haunting question.







September 27, 2019

DULL!  BORING!

He heard someone talking about someone
behind his back. “He’s dull! He’s boring!” 

Oooooh, that hurt, really hurt, when he figured
out the “He” in the comment was he.

That pushed him down the stairs into a  
dark basement of silence for about a week.

“What to do?” He didn’t know. “Is it too late?”
He didn’t know. “I’m too dull and boring.”


© Andy Costello, Reflections 2019



September  27, 2019 



Thought for today: 


“Great grief is a divine and terrible radiance which transfigures the wretched.” 


Victor Hugo [ 1802-1885] 
Les Miserables [1862], 
Book 5, Chapter 13