A Sunday Chat with Myself – Sunday, November 26th, 2017

“We are not human beings having a spiritual experience. We are Spiritual Beings having a human experience.”

— Teilhard de Chardin

I like Sundays. Call me old fashioned, but Sundays, to me, are quiet, reverend times when I love to reflect, not so much on where I’ve been and what I’ve accomplished, but what I now am, and where I’m going. My self-reflective moments indicate, above all else, that I love my fellow man. That’s important. I can ‘go home,’ at any time, to my God, in peace, knowing that I hold no grudge against anyone and I have fought the good fight, and won!

“Good works do not make a man good, but a good man will do good works.”

On weekdays my thoughts are on making a living, providing shelter and food for myself and my family and keeping my house safe. But Sundays are a time to tuck away the cares of the world and reflect on my spiritual self. Sunday is the day I concentrate on my spiritual growth. What am I doing to make myself a better person? Have I stood as a friend to someone during their time of pain? Do I spend time with family and share their problems?

“We all have our own life to pursue, our own kind of dream to be weaved. And we all have some power to make wishes come true, as long as wee keep believing.”

— Louisa May Alcott

Standing still–not akin to resting and relaxing–is a terrible waste of time. Next Sunday, when I again sit here at my computer and reflect, will I have moved forward? Will I be able to say, “I am satisfied with myself!“? I will sleep well tonight, assured that an Angel stands guard at each corner post of my bed … I cannot be harmed!

About Albert Schindler

I was born on the 27th of February, 1931, on a farm near Hubbard, Saskatchewan. As far back as I can remember I had a spirit that would not stay earthbound. In junior high, I remember taking first place for a short story in which I described my terrifying encounter with a dinosaur. In outer space – that is, when the teacher wasn’t directly speaking to me, I went where Buck Rogers wouldn’t dare go. I was more of a Calvin in Calvin and Hobbes type of guy, with my own, personal, very powerful, transmogrifyer always at the ready. In my ‘teens and twenties, I pushed aside my Calvin alter ego in favour of making a living and didn’t take seriously again my ‘writer’s bug’ until my late 30s. I still saw that the world as full of exciting things to learn and investigate, which my writing reflected in the several articles and a couple of short fiction pieces that I wrote and sold, including over 30 children’s radio plays for Alberta’s ACCESS Radio. Unfortunately, I abandoned my budding writing career in favour of starting my own business as a sign painter. Now that I can officially call myself ‘retired,’ I plan to resume my writing career, only this time, writing mostly fiction. Why fiction? I have lead a great, adventurous life in which I made many mistakes (the ‘adventure’ in life), that have taught me some very important lessons and allowed my spirit to grow to unimaginable proportions, inconceivable to me while still in my thirties. In fiction, I believe, one can adventure into both the inner and outer consciousness of man and the universe to infinite levels where only the boldest dare peak. Convention holds that article writing has to be factual – oh, you can be creative in how you present your information, but ‘fact’ (whatever that means) still must have its parameters in article writing, whereas fiction is limited only by the size of a writer’s spirit, and so far, I haven’t been able to fathom my limit.
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