Yesterday it rained most of the day. Then, right about 5 o'clock, it stopped and the clouds moved out just in time for sunset to begin. As the sun shone on the water, I searched the sky for a rainbow. I never saw one. What I did see was a magnificent sunset that turned gray clouds to pink. The earth glimmered as the rain drops became mirrors to reflect the light. And the water turned shades of deep blue, growing softer as it rolled to shore. It was exquisite.
I was glad that I didn't stop watching just because there wasn't a rainbow.
How often in life do I give up because I don't get a rainbow? What beauty do I miss?
I live with regret that I didn't go home in time to see my Dad before he died. Now I see that that's not my rainbow. My sisters get that rainbow.
What I have is memories of long phone conversations we had all most every Sunday for the last few years. Those were magnificent.
What magnificent beauty are we missing out on because we don't see the rainbow? Or because we live with this foolish notion that we should have no regrets. Regrets remind us to do better next time. We shouldn't be ruled by them, instead we should learn from them.
I will always wish I had, but now the tears that covered my life are reflecting the light of a magnificent beauty around me. The gray clouds are turning pink with the light of family and friends shining around me. And the water is turning softer, as it gently rolls in to remind me that time moves on.
What regret are you hiding in a closet because someone told you it doesn't help you in any way? Or because you rather like having a dark cloud to throw around? Take it out and say it out loud, "I wish I had/hadn't...." Then look at all you learned from that choice and how your life is better for it. You can't change what happened, you can change the influence it has on your mindset. Choose to find the beauty that you have because of, or in spite of, the regretful moment.
Rainbows are a gift, they aren't meant to be chased. The beauty of life is all around us. If we use our tears as mirrors of light, instead of refraction of regret.
Saturday, November 1, 2014
Tuesday, October 28, 2014
Heart songs
As my mother lay dying, I knelt by her bed and said, "I love you Mom." I heard a whisper back, "I love you." I was shocked at the power of my imagination. My mother was full of morphine, there was no way she heard me, much less responded.
A little while later my sister was in with Mom and I realized they were talking. It wasn't just want or will or imagination. My mother had responded to me. What a blessing.
Now, fourteen years later, I think about that moment and how easy it was to think Mom hadn't really said anything. And I realize how I do that in life.
How easy it is for me to accept the negative words that are hurled at me, while dismissing the positive words are impossible.
That day my heart was listening better than my mind, perhaps it's time to not take the negative words to heart, but to listen to the words that make my heart sing.
I love you Mom. Thanks for the message, I hear you.
A little while later my sister was in with Mom and I realized they were talking. It wasn't just want or will or imagination. My mother had responded to me. What a blessing.
Now, fourteen years later, I think about that moment and how easy it was to think Mom hadn't really said anything. And I realize how I do that in life.
How easy it is for me to accept the negative words that are hurled at me, while dismissing the positive words are impossible.
That day my heart was listening better than my mind, perhaps it's time to not take the negative words to heart, but to listen to the words that make my heart sing.
I love you Mom. Thanks for the message, I hear you.
Thursday, October 9, 2014
On Writing and Feelings
I wasn't prepared for the impact that losing my Dad would have on me. I knew I would be incredibly sad and that I would miss our Sunday evening chats. Never did I expect that I would not have an inkling to write. I write about everything, all the time. Why would that change?
It's been as if the heart has gone out of me and took the words along. Sudden inspiration and characters waking me in the night all stopped. The very thing that connected me to my paternal family, writing, became void of voice, form and will.
At first I missed it, like an injured athlete being told they can't play anymore, I was heart broken. I accepted it as lost and waited to see what would take it's place, preparing to move on to something different. Then, a few days ago, a line strolled across my thoughts and refused to stop. It felt a little strange, like meeting an old lover on a crowded subway. There we were, face to face. Being jostled about, holding our ground until,by the crowd and the force of movement, we are pushed together. Awkward and uncomfortably we started a conversation, occasionally stopping to stare, then turning away. Slowly, between interruptions of load speakers and stops, we are reconnecting.
I'm a little excited and a little nervous. This old friend and I are working through some things, like who I write for and why my voice matters. You know, little things. I'm letting go of the feelings of anger and resentment for what wasn't finished. As I work on myself, all my relationships get better. And today I work on the line...
"She was surprised by the tears that filled her eyes. Never had she felt so amazingly wanted and cared for as she did in that bed, that night. After a lifetime of being told to never need anyone, to be independent, she felt completed by another. Love turned out to be real, and it was in her arms."
It's been as if the heart has gone out of me and took the words along. Sudden inspiration and characters waking me in the night all stopped. The very thing that connected me to my paternal family, writing, became void of voice, form and will.
At first I missed it, like an injured athlete being told they can't play anymore, I was heart broken. I accepted it as lost and waited to see what would take it's place, preparing to move on to something different. Then, a few days ago, a line strolled across my thoughts and refused to stop. It felt a little strange, like meeting an old lover on a crowded subway. There we were, face to face. Being jostled about, holding our ground until,by the crowd and the force of movement, we are pushed together. Awkward and uncomfortably we started a conversation, occasionally stopping to stare, then turning away. Slowly, between interruptions of load speakers and stops, we are reconnecting.
I'm a little excited and a little nervous. This old friend and I are working through some things, like who I write for and why my voice matters. You know, little things. I'm letting go of the feelings of anger and resentment for what wasn't finished. As I work on myself, all my relationships get better. And today I work on the line...
"She was surprised by the tears that filled her eyes. Never had she felt so amazingly wanted and cared for as she did in that bed, that night. After a lifetime of being told to never need anyone, to be independent, she felt completed by another. Love turned out to be real, and it was in her arms."
Sunday, September 7, 2014
Fear of losing inner self
No matter how many wonderful people I have around me
When the voices in my head go quiet
It is incredibly lonely
Cold as a room full of strangers
My mind finds nothing familiar
Nothing to go to for comfort
When nothing I see or hear inspires words
It's as if I have lost my hearing.
No inner sound creates a void
Feeling like a child lost in my own world
Wide eyed, seeking something familiar
Seeing only blurs of color flash by
In these times all I can do is function
Hope the inner voice returns
And wonder who I'll be if it doesn't this time.
When the voices in my head go quiet
It is incredibly lonely
Cold as a room full of strangers
My mind finds nothing familiar
Nothing to go to for comfort
When nothing I see or hear inspires words
It's as if I have lost my hearing.
No inner sound creates a void
Feeling like a child lost in my own world
Wide eyed, seeking something familiar
Seeing only blurs of color flash by
In these times all I can do is function
Hope the inner voice returns
And wonder who I'll be if it doesn't this time.
Monday, August 18, 2014
Plant your path with careful choices
Life is not a lot thrown for you or a hand dealt to you. Life is a path forged by you.
If you choose to let the weeds grow, then your life will be full of creeping vines that make progress difficult and tear away at the fiber of your life. Ivy growing up old, brick buildings looks beautiful, but in reality the roots are boring into the brick. One day the brick dissolves to a crumbled mess.
If you choose to see only weeds, your life is full of desolation that leaves only stems and stumps that entangle you and make you fall. Your life becomes so full of hurt that there's no way to move.
If you choose to look at each step, using only the tools needed, your life path will clear away. Sometimes you need a machete, other times you only need to gently push the vine away. Wisdom and knowledge of where you want your path to take you will train you to be the master gardener of your path.
Only when you choose to see your path as more than eradicating weeds and choose to plant the seeds that will grow the things that will bring nourishment and beauty to your life will your path be a peaceful place you seek.
Peace, Love and Peanut Butter cookies for everyone!
I trudged through life's path
Machete in hand
Cutting down everything
That seemed to stand
In the way of my garden path
I was left with bloody stumps
And invasive weeds took root
Tearing me apart
Until I crumbled to pieces
My strength destroyed by the weeds
I began again
Herbicide in hand
Destroying the root of everything
That seemed to stand
In the way of my garden path
I was left with desolate ground
And vast empty land
Leaving me parched
Until I became disoriented
A dehydrated mass of soulless bones
I began again
Pruning shears in hand
Carefully cutting back anything
That seemed to stand
In the way of my garden path
I was left with neatly manicured weeds
Growing bitterness
Leaving me lonely and sad
Until I became harsh
Seeing only trouble for my toil
I began again
Spade and seeds in hand
Removing the things that blocked the sun
Planting the things the added life
Creating my garden path
I sit, surrounded by the goodness of it
Strong from a good work
Nourished by the fruit of labor
Softened by the fragrance of flora
A place for my body and soul to rejuvenate
My path is not without obstacles
Rather it is easier cleared
With the knowledge that comes
From choosing, each day
To begin again
If you choose to let the weeds grow, then your life will be full of creeping vines that make progress difficult and tear away at the fiber of your life. Ivy growing up old, brick buildings looks beautiful, but in reality the roots are boring into the brick. One day the brick dissolves to a crumbled mess.
If you choose to see only weeds, your life is full of desolation that leaves only stems and stumps that entangle you and make you fall. Your life becomes so full of hurt that there's no way to move.
If you choose to look at each step, using only the tools needed, your life path will clear away. Sometimes you need a machete, other times you only need to gently push the vine away. Wisdom and knowledge of where you want your path to take you will train you to be the master gardener of your path.
Only when you choose to see your path as more than eradicating weeds and choose to plant the seeds that will grow the things that will bring nourishment and beauty to your life will your path be a peaceful place you seek.
Peace, Love and Peanut Butter cookies for everyone!
I trudged through life's path
Machete in hand
Cutting down everything
That seemed to stand
In the way of my garden path
I was left with bloody stumps
And invasive weeds took root
Tearing me apart
Until I crumbled to pieces
My strength destroyed by the weeds
I began again
Herbicide in hand
Destroying the root of everything
That seemed to stand
In the way of my garden path
I was left with desolate ground
And vast empty land
Leaving me parched
Until I became disoriented
A dehydrated mass of soulless bones
I began again
Pruning shears in hand
Carefully cutting back anything
That seemed to stand
In the way of my garden path
I was left with neatly manicured weeds
Growing bitterness
Leaving me lonely and sad
Until I became harsh
Seeing only trouble for my toil
I began again
Spade and seeds in hand
Removing the things that blocked the sun
Planting the things the added life
Creating my garden path
I sit, surrounded by the goodness of it
Strong from a good work
Nourished by the fruit of labor
Softened by the fragrance of flora
A place for my body and soul to rejuvenate
My path is not without obstacles
Rather it is easier cleared
With the knowledge that comes
From choosing, each day
To begin again
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
Reality Strikes
Reality Strikes
Reaching over the pillow
I put my ice cream dish
on the table by the sofa
without looking
when I picked it up there was a fly
dead
squished by the orb that fell from
the sky
Sometimes I feel like that fly
sitting and drinking up the ring
of condensation left on a table
happy to be just getting through the day
when BAM
I am crushed by the weighty reality
of someone's empty ice cream dish
Someone else was enjoying the sweet
creamy goodness and left me with the
headache
No matter that the fly had eyes all over
it's body
And could swiftly fly away from harm
It was no match for
Reality
I hope it died happy with it's last drink of
cool water
I will go on enjoying the goodness around me
while knowing some one bigger than me
may be enjoying
Ice Cream
Reaching over the pillow
I put my ice cream dish
on the table by the sofa
without looking
when I picked it up there was a fly
dead
squished by the orb that fell from
the sky
Sometimes I feel like that fly
sitting and drinking up the ring
of condensation left on a table
happy to be just getting through the day
when BAM
I am crushed by the weighty reality
of someone's empty ice cream dish
Someone else was enjoying the sweet
creamy goodness and left me with the
headache
No matter that the fly had eyes all over
it's body
And could swiftly fly away from harm
It was no match for
Reality
I hope it died happy with it's last drink of
cool water
I will go on enjoying the goodness around me
while knowing some one bigger than me
may be enjoying
Ice Cream
Thursday, July 17, 2014
Navigating the fog of life
A friend was telling me about the fog around her home the last few days. A couple of days ago all around her house was socked in, but she went just a few feet up the road and it was clear. The next day, she watched the fog approach, then suddenly retreat.
How like fog life can be. Some days you wake up expecting sunshine, and you're surprised by being socked in. Other days you see the fog approaching, and are relieved it stops before it reaches you. Then there are the days you wake up to the fog, push to get moving and ride out of it to discover a sunny day. And there are days the fog stays put all day, leaving everything gray and wet from dew.
Fact is, fog is going to happen. Like the weather, there's often nothing we can do to control it. What we can control is how we handle those days. Some days throwing the blankets over our head and pretending it's a sunny day is a great option. Most days we have to forge on, in spite of the fog. Turn the headlights on, drive slower, and hope we drive out of it.
And those times when the fog stays, we can find solace in time to enjoy a book, the company of friends and loved ones, or a good nap. While knowing the dew that comes from it is watering the earth and adding to the beauty of life around us.
If you can't find your way to being content with the fog, do those around you a favor, blow a fog horn to warn others of the danger they're approaching. We're all just making our way through the fogs of life, no need causing another to crash into the rocks.
And when you hear the warnings of others, remember to heed them. It's not your job to move the rocks, just to keep your wreck from cluttering the beaches. Steering clear is not a bad thing.
We all have to work with the conditions of life we're given. Sometimes they will control what we do, where we go, or how fast it gets done. But through it we can know that it's only for a time, sunny days will come; that is where there's hope in the darkness.
Peace, Love, and Sourdough Bread for Everyone (Ha, got ya. I've been baking this week.)
How like fog life can be. Some days you wake up expecting sunshine, and you're surprised by being socked in. Other days you see the fog approaching, and are relieved it stops before it reaches you. Then there are the days you wake up to the fog, push to get moving and ride out of it to discover a sunny day. And there are days the fog stays put all day, leaving everything gray and wet from dew.
Fact is, fog is going to happen. Like the weather, there's often nothing we can do to control it. What we can control is how we handle those days. Some days throwing the blankets over our head and pretending it's a sunny day is a great option. Most days we have to forge on, in spite of the fog. Turn the headlights on, drive slower, and hope we drive out of it.
And those times when the fog stays, we can find solace in time to enjoy a book, the company of friends and loved ones, or a good nap. While knowing the dew that comes from it is watering the earth and adding to the beauty of life around us.
If you can't find your way to being content with the fog, do those around you a favor, blow a fog horn to warn others of the danger they're approaching. We're all just making our way through the fogs of life, no need causing another to crash into the rocks.
And when you hear the warnings of others, remember to heed them. It's not your job to move the rocks, just to keep your wreck from cluttering the beaches. Steering clear is not a bad thing.
We all have to work with the conditions of life we're given. Sometimes they will control what we do, where we go, or how fast it gets done. But through it we can know that it's only for a time, sunny days will come; that is where there's hope in the darkness.
Peace, Love, and Sourdough Bread for Everyone (Ha, got ya. I've been baking this week.)
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