So. One of the most comforting things, to me, about being Pagan is our view of life and death. Death is a part of the cycle, and helps to sustain life. When I became accepting of that basic tenet, I became less scared of dying.

But...I admit, as much as I don't fear death, I am scared to death (pun intended) of getting old. I'm scared of losing my body functions, I'm scared of not being able to do things I've done for all my life, and I'm scared of sitting around, waiting for others to help me.

For example, I took my mom to the eye doctor today so she could have her eyes dilated. Turns out she's got cataracts (she's 55), and believe me when I say she was the youngest person in that waiting room. This particular doc only visits this neck of the woods once a month, so naturally you can imagine the place was packed with patients who were there to have the exact same thing done as my mom.

Again, my mom was the youngster of the group. So, there were a lot of walking canes, wheelchairs, and breathing equipment. Now you all know that my natural tendency here would be to tell this story light-heartedly, but I'm finding that I cannot treat this subject humorously at all. I'll ask that you humor me and my dark rambling a bit.

I spent nearly four hours today surrounded by frail, dependent elderly people and I am just depressed as hell. It is not distate for old people that I am expressing...and I certainly don't mean to sound disrespectful towards my elders. But, I got a long, hard look at my mother's future...and mine as well. That's going to be me someday, sitting in a disinfected, quiet-as-death waiting room, depending on some young scamp of a doctor to call my name and tell me how he's going to help me. I'm sure he'll be kind and Hippocrates-esque, but deep down I'll know that this is just the beginning. I'll be sitting in another waiting room soon, waiting for another doctor to give me another prognosis to something else that's wrong with my body. And then, sure enough, as I walk out of that doctor's office, I'll be depending on somebody, husband or child, to drive me home or get my medication or set up my next doctor's visit.

And then, see, my quality of life depends on doctors. They name my maladies, give me medicines, perform my surgeries...so that I can live longer and experience more of the aches and pains of growing old. It's quite ironic, actually.

And it's all a part of the cycle. It happens to everyone. I'm fine with the end result...I've reconciled myself to dying. I haven't quite come to terms with the way that I'll get there. I may never.

I bought a t-shirt in Greece that reads (in Greek)

"The only thing I know is that I know nothing." - Socrates

Naturally, the English translation is underneath. But...the more I live on this planet, the more I'm finding the above sentiment is true for me.

For example, for the last fifteen-twenty minutes, I've been perusing some of the updated blogs here at Blogstream, trying to get my finger on the pulse of the modern, urbane world, and instead, I ended up feeling like an ignoramus. I didn't understand a word of the shit that was going on.

Like, the one blog (and the name eludes me) that was talking about something religious. I read the first few words, and I was WTF? did I stumble across some Top Secret government file? To all those religious folk who are now offended, no apologies...I read a blog from the Pets category and had the exact same reaction.

Shit. Am I getting stupid? Is the world getting clever and witty around me while I atrophy?

But, then again...the oracle at Delphi referred to Socrates as the wisest man in the world...all because he readily admitted he knew nothing.

Only the wise admit they're fools. Huh. I came up with that myself. Maybe I'm not getting that stupid.

Socrates for President!

Just checking in. Here's the example of the intelligent dialogue going on at my house right now:

"OK, kiddos, it's almost sleepy time. Let's go brush our toofers and go potty. Then it's beddy-time."

Cripes, no wonder we're raising a nation of inane, babbling idiot-monkeys. Back in my day, it went something like this:

(parent hollering) "Hey, you guys got five minutes to brush your teeth, piss, and get in bed - or else I will beat your asses!"

Love those childhood memories. :) Think I'll go brush my toofers and get my ass in bed.

My house is a constant source of consternation for me. There's always a room I want to paint, an area I want to redo, a place that needs organized, or just something that needs to be downsized or thrown out.

You would think that now I'm out for the summer and my big vacation is done, I'd have the energy and motivation to do these things. But...not really. I haven't touched my house to-do list much.

Until yesterday.

First of all, I started with just a general mopping of my kitchen floor, which honestly, could use it every other day. However, I'm fortunate because I have a floor treatment which hides stains well. Next on the agenda was my bathroom, which needed a desperate dusting and wiping and toilet-scrubbing. Spic and span.

So. Here we go. The debate titled: Where is Everybody sleeping in this house? Seems like up until recently, the kids all wanted to sleep in the same place. Usually on the living room floor. Yesterday, I laid the smack down. "Who is sleeping where?" Turns out my youngest (almost 3) wants to sleep in his sister's (6) room, and the oldest (8) wants his own room. Good. I put the two youngest in the room with the bunk beds, which used to be the oldest child's room. The oldest is now in his sister's room with the single bed.

Bed problem solved. Next item - wardrobes and spare room.

Now that the youngest is sleeping downstairs, what to do with his room? Not only did it have his toddler bed, but also housed an extra bookcase, a spare dresser from our bedroom set, and various other indiscriminate items. Simple solution from the Feng Shui master: dismantle toddler bed, move dresser downstairs to be used by occupants of Bunk Bed Room, clean out closet in aforementioned bedroom to make room for indiscriminate items, bring up large ex-kitchen table from rec room downstairs to upstairs spare bedroom, and move all sewing and scrapbooking items to spare room. Hence, former toddler bedroom becomes book/hobby room. And, the problem of where to put everyone's clothes is solved too. The two younger kids are using our old dresser (sizable) and oldest is using the dresser that actually comes with the twin bed. Oldest used to actually sleep in this twin bed and use this dresser (just now re-acquired) before his sister was old enough to sleep in a big bed. So, for the oldest, it's just like a big happy homecoming.

With the exception of me reorganizing some craft things in the spare room, the switcheroo was accomplished around 5 pm today, and I now have this mellow, everything-is-right-with-the-world feeling.

Now my house is a much better place to circulate the free flow of positive chi which will now most certainly enter this abode. I wish I've have gotten this done before all those online folk voted for the Seven Modern Wonders of the World...my house would have been right up there.

In my recent European wanderings, I've discovered there are a lot of things I like about Greek people and their way. Some things are European in general, and some are specifically Greek.

First of all, I really dig their tiled bathrooms. I know we have those in America too, but I liked them better in Europe. I want to redo my shower now.

Brent and I both really liked their money. Euros are cool. It's nice having a 1 and a 2 Euro coin. And they're pretty.

Finally, and this was a biggie. Several people in our tour group were concerned with all the doings at JFK, Glasgow, and Heathrow airports and asked the tour director if she foresaw any trouble on our flights home. The TD looked blank for a moment, and then she replied that Greeks don't worry much about those kind of things. There's no point in it, and if something is going to happen, there's not much she can do to stop it. Basically, her point was that Greeks, in general, don't work themselves up about things that are beyond their control.

And I thought - now there's what our country missing!

It's not that Europe is lazy or hands-off or don't think about the big picture. They aren't. But, in America, we always seem to be worried about something. We do have a tendency to sweat the small stuff.

Also, I liked how Greeks are towards their parents. Our TD told us they don't ship their parents off to nursing homes or assisted living apartments. They bring them home or find them a place really close to their house (like next door). I just found that refreshing. And, they don't celebrate birthdays so much as celebrate their "Name Day." In Greece, anyway, most children are named after a saint, and that's the day they celebrate more. It's not so much about parties and presents, but about reflecting on how you've lived your life, and just celebrating life in general.

I don't know if this is all a Europe thing, or a Greek thing, but some of their attitudes struck a chord with me. I was doing an internal "Right On!" many times during this trip. We'll see if I can work these European attitudes into my own daily living.