All Praise be to God, to whom all praise is due

These days, I've adopted a monkish life. My day starts as anyone's would. A shower, a shave, a made bed and eventually a morning cup of coffee. Then the thought of prayer comes. When will my knees hit the floor? When will the morning prayer app on my iPhone provide me with routine words of reflection? When will The routine provide an impetus for creativity to flow? Usually, by 7:45am the keys, wallet, and assorted necessary accouterments are pocketed as the door closes behind me. Will the bike ride be taken today, or will my Ford be driven? Hmm... decisions, decisions.The mass begins at 8:00am and Fr.Angelito is usually there Wednesday and Thursday.Fridays are his day off.The Celebration of the Mass grounds me. Christ is present in the Eucharist, and in my life.

I am thankful for what has been given me, what has been taken from me, and for what has been left me. As I am before my maker, this is all that I am. Nothing more... nothing less.May I do the will of my higher power, always. Thy will, not mine, be done. I am reminded of a prayer my younger sister Nancy used to pray. "Be thee to whom, one mind, compassion, OM. All praise be to God, to whom all praise is due." This prayer is beautiful, not only because it takes my mind off of myself, but it reminds me why I am here on earth. To give praise to a God that loves me.

My Sister Mary Ann is shown below. This was taken in the summer of 2016, which is the last time I saw her alive.She is with God now.She left us this past summer, shortly before her 80th birthday. She will be remembered fondly by her family, community, and friends.She is someone who put everything aside in her personal life to follow Jesus Christ.She is a beautiful soul whose Spirit will live on.Her presence is felt,even as I write.

No cause for the blues.

I'm listening to The Paul Butterfield Blues Band, which has been an acquired taste over the years. I first heard them back in College and was surprised to hear that many of these Chicago Blues men went on to play with many of my favorite musicians in and around the Bay Area. Today I understand Blues as being a style, a way of life for some and perhaps an attitude for others. It does not have to mean something depressive though. This rich creative tradition has been born out of tough times...and we have all had tough times.The trouble is that it is easy to get stuck there.As the saying goes, "If you don't dig the blues, you better check your shoes, you might have a hole in your sole."Why there is a pack of smiling dogs beneath this post, I haven't a clue. But hey, dogs live the blues.