Remember the story of Chicken Little, running around shouting about the sky falling? That is similar to the weather reports we had all week. We were supposed to get a ton of snow, ice and rain making a real mess of our weekend. We got a couple inches and not much else. At least, thats what is out MY window. I have to admit, I'm a bit disappointed. I wanted to be buried in weather. I wanted to have a reason to be stuck inside, on the couch, under a blanket. Book in hand and tea nearby.
Now that I see it didn't quite happen that way, I feel guilty for my attempt at hibernation. I feel like I should have gone out. Done something with my weekend. Pretended to be a "hearty Minnesotan" and braved the elements. Why do I do that to myself? I don't like being cold. I don't like running in and out of places traipsing through the slush and muck, messing my shoes, my car and whatever building I enter. Its messy, icky and not "fun", so why do I feel the need to do so? It was fun snuggling up with my book, my blanket and my kids. (Fun for me, anyway, but maybe not for them?)
When is it going to be okay to give myself permission to do nothing? When will I be comfortable with not feeling like I have to DO something or have to be productive? I feel like it is a measurement of how "good" I am... to myself, my children, my family and friends. Some sort of tangible success of who I am. Why? Where did that notion come from? I can't quite put my finger on it, but I don't like it.
I have plans. I have ideas. I have LOTS of ideas. Things I want to try and accomplishments I want to achieve. What I DON'T have is a reason, a motive. No motivation to keep me engaged. My sky may be falling but I don't seem to be concerned enough to get out of the way. Let it fall. I have an umbrella. I'll be okay.
Tea, anyone?
Monday, February 11, 2013
Monday, February 4, 2013
Lost, somewhere...
Oh, dear blog,
Where is my desire? I think about you all the time, but just not quite enough to motivate me to write. What is wrong with me? I'm lost, somewhere, inside myself and not so sure I want to come out. Not so sure I want to be found, but angry that I am here... trapped so to speak... inside of myself. Alone with myself and not finding that a place of comfort. Not a place I want to be. Why? What's wrong with Me? Why don't I like being left alone with Me? What am I so afraid of?
Where is my desire? I think about you all the time, but just not quite enough to motivate me to write. What is wrong with me? I'm lost, somewhere, inside myself and not so sure I want to come out. Not so sure I want to be found, but angry that I am here... trapped so to speak... inside of myself. Alone with myself and not finding that a place of comfort. Not a place I want to be. Why? What's wrong with Me? Why don't I like being left alone with Me? What am I so afraid of?
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Habits, Loves and Memories
After suffering a few days of setbacks, I had to do a little game of catch-up today for my photo challenge. I had to find A Bad Habit, Someone I Love, and Childhood Memories.
Bad habbit... not so tough. I tend to watch too much TV. I love movies and my DVR is always full of things I need to catch up on. I can admit it. TV. Bad Habbit.
Someone I love. Easy too. My kids. My family. I have a shelf in my living room packed a little too tight with photos of ones I love. The latest of my kids, my cousin Lorraine who is more like a sister than a cousin, her kids and Robert, her husband. Another easy check on the list.
Childhood memories. That one can be a bit tougher. I just did a big post that talked quite a bit about my childhood memories of my grandmother's house and her fruits (which was the photo theme for the day) and I cant really use that again! So what other memories do I have that can be photographed... today... before I have to leave for work? What is readily available?
Books. My bookshelf is full, and that is only a small sampling of the books I own. Barely a dent in my stash. The books in my photograph, and subsequently those on my shelf are not the memories I have, per se, but the memory of shelves and shelves and more shelves filled with books is the memory I captured. My parents are huge book nuts. They are always reading, sometimes more than one book at a time. They read to me as a child. Books beyond my "level" even. It was a passion we shared together. Trips to the library resulted in the exodus of a large stack of books between us. So many, in fact, that my parents created their own system at home to keep track of who checked out what and when it was due so there were no lost or forgotten ones. We even frequented several libraries to gain more variety. It seems a little crazy, but it was something that we shared a passion for and it made us happy. I also think they liked it because it was free. Not many things a family can do together for fun that is free!
I still have a heart for books and my parents still make it their personal mission to keep the local library circulation high. I even got a Kindle for Christmas. I love it and am piling books on it regularly. Somehow I believe that I will always still keep some of the "real deal" around though. There is really nothing better than curling up on the couch, hot tea on hand, a blanket on your lap and a good book in your hands. The smell of the paper and in, the turning of real pages, the story making a movie in your mind.... nothing beats it. Memories from childhood, and new ones in the making. Get busy reading!
Bad habbit... not so tough. I tend to watch too much TV. I love movies and my DVR is always full of things I need to catch up on. I can admit it. TV. Bad Habbit.
Someone I love. Easy too. My kids. My family. I have a shelf in my living room packed a little too tight with photos of ones I love. The latest of my kids, my cousin Lorraine who is more like a sister than a cousin, her kids and Robert, her husband. Another easy check on the list.
Childhood memories. That one can be a bit tougher. I just did a big post that talked quite a bit about my childhood memories of my grandmother's house and her fruits (which was the photo theme for the day) and I cant really use that again! So what other memories do I have that can be photographed... today... before I have to leave for work? What is readily available?
Books. My bookshelf is full, and that is only a small sampling of the books I own. Barely a dent in my stash. The books in my photograph, and subsequently those on my shelf are not the memories I have, per se, but the memory of shelves and shelves and more shelves filled with books is the memory I captured. My parents are huge book nuts. They are always reading, sometimes more than one book at a time. They read to me as a child. Books beyond my "level" even. It was a passion we shared together. Trips to the library resulted in the exodus of a large stack of books between us. So many, in fact, that my parents created their own system at home to keep track of who checked out what and when it was due so there were no lost or forgotten ones. We even frequented several libraries to gain more variety. It seems a little crazy, but it was something that we shared a passion for and it made us happy. I also think they liked it because it was free. Not many things a family can do together for fun that is free!
I still have a heart for books and my parents still make it their personal mission to keep the local library circulation high. I even got a Kindle for Christmas. I love it and am piling books on it regularly. Somehow I believe that I will always still keep some of the "real deal" around though. There is really nothing better than curling up on the couch, hot tea on hand, a blanket on your lap and a good book in your hands. The smell of the paper and in, the turning of real pages, the story making a movie in your mind.... nothing beats it. Memories from childhood, and new ones in the making. Get busy reading!
Monday, January 7, 2013
Just the Right Spot
One of my fondest memories of my paternal grandmother is her kitchen. Every time I think about her, about the times together, they usually start in her kitchen. Believe it or not, not all of those memories have to do with food either. Yes, I have some very fond memories of her baking, cooking, preparing holiday dinners and more laid back Sunday suppers, but that isn't where I'm going with this. There are things that were in that kitchen, things that went on in the kitchen that are the first things that come to mind when I remember her.
She had this beautiful buffet cabinet that was painted a tomato red. That may sound odd, but it was a truly beautiful piece, even to my young eyes. Within the drawers of that cabinet were the fun little finds that every home needed. Pens, pencils, drawing paper, playing cards and the dog's leash. That was the cool part. With just the flick-jingle of the drawer pull you could send the dog in an excited tizzy and grandma in to a fit because the dog was misbehaving. Of course, I wasn't the culprit. It was the dog. He he.
Then there was the cuckoo clock. I was enthralled with the clock. I watched with amazement as she would pull the chains to wind it. I didn't understand how that made the clock keep going, but I know it did. Because she said so. I anticipated the call of the cuckoo and the peek-a-boo visit of the tiny bird that dwell within. I adored that clock so much. It was the thing I missed most when she passed. Knowing I wouldn't get to hear it call out to her home "welcome" and "be loved here" it really made me miss her more.
Also in the kitchen could be found her spiritual "stack". This was her Bible and Bible Study workbooks and notebook, always kept in a neat little stack on the table. Grandma belonged to the Worldwide Church of God, whatever that was. As a small child I wasn't raised going to church every Sunday. In fact, the only time I went to any church or heard about God was when I went with Grandma, or eavesdropped on her prayers. It wasn't until I was older I started to attend church with my parents and begin my christian education. But I digress. However, Grandma was very devoted to her studies and I loved to peek at her Bible with the handwritten notes in the margins and spaces of the text. Underlines of things she felt were important, and further explanation of verses that needed more understanding. I found it all very fascinating because it was obviously so important to her, but yet a mystery to me.
The other important piece of the kitchen (and my memories) was Grandma's fruit. They were always so proudly displayed and I can't remember any time I was in the kitchen that I didn't take the time to admire them and enjoy them smiling back at me. Smiling fruit, you say? Yes. I do. The fruit I speak of are a set of ceramic pieces that my grandmother's sister made for her, and apparently a set for herself as well, though I don't remember those as clearly.
Like her clock and Bible, Grandma's fruit was one of those things that really struck me as being "lost" when she passed away. They were so dear to my memories, and my childhood. It was really one of those things that I couldn't "get over". They were always on my mind and heavy in my heart any time thoughts of her came to mind. I missed my grandma's fruit!
Imaging my absolute shock when I discovered my dearest and closest cousin had been the lucky one to not only save the tomato red buffet, but the whole set of 8 fruits!! I would also later discover that her parents had saved Grandma's clock, and would gift it to me, but that's another story...
Upon preparing to leave from another visit to my cousin and dreading leaving "home" to return to where I live 600 miles north, she ever so casually says that I can choose my favorite 4 fruits. We are splitting the set and sharing what was a dear memory for us both in order to keep it alive in our own homes. I was stunned, and thrilled! I struggled with which ones to choose, but finally decided on my set. Now we each share a part of the grandmother we cherished so much as children, and keep her spirit present in our own homes. Of course, I have them in my kitchen where they belong. Where else could they go?
Oh, and as for the Bible.... my dad shocked me by blessing me with it a few years ago. I pull it out every so often an look at her notes and lessons in her own handwriting, and it fills me with more blessings than I could have ever imagined. All that was, still IS. And all is good!
She had this beautiful buffet cabinet that was painted a tomato red. That may sound odd, but it was a truly beautiful piece, even to my young eyes. Within the drawers of that cabinet were the fun little finds that every home needed. Pens, pencils, drawing paper, playing cards and the dog's leash. That was the cool part. With just the flick-jingle of the drawer pull you could send the dog in an excited tizzy and grandma in to a fit because the dog was misbehaving. Of course, I wasn't the culprit. It was the dog. He he.
Then there was the cuckoo clock. I was enthralled with the clock. I watched with amazement as she would pull the chains to wind it. I didn't understand how that made the clock keep going, but I know it did. Because she said so. I anticipated the call of the cuckoo and the peek-a-boo visit of the tiny bird that dwell within. I adored that clock so much. It was the thing I missed most when she passed. Knowing I wouldn't get to hear it call out to her home "welcome" and "be loved here" it really made me miss her more.
Also in the kitchen could be found her spiritual "stack". This was her Bible and Bible Study workbooks and notebook, always kept in a neat little stack on the table. Grandma belonged to the Worldwide Church of God, whatever that was. As a small child I wasn't raised going to church every Sunday. In fact, the only time I went to any church or heard about God was when I went with Grandma, or eavesdropped on her prayers. It wasn't until I was older I started to attend church with my parents and begin my christian education. But I digress. However, Grandma was very devoted to her studies and I loved to peek at her Bible with the handwritten notes in the margins and spaces of the text. Underlines of things she felt were important, and further explanation of verses that needed more understanding. I found it all very fascinating because it was obviously so important to her, but yet a mystery to me.
The other important piece of the kitchen (and my memories) was Grandma's fruit. They were always so proudly displayed and I can't remember any time I was in the kitchen that I didn't take the time to admire them and enjoy them smiling back at me. Smiling fruit, you say? Yes. I do. The fruit I speak of are a set of ceramic pieces that my grandmother's sister made for her, and apparently a set for herself as well, though I don't remember those as clearly.
Like her clock and Bible, Grandma's fruit was one of those things that really struck me as being "lost" when she passed away. They were so dear to my memories, and my childhood. It was really one of those things that I couldn't "get over". They were always on my mind and heavy in my heart any time thoughts of her came to mind. I missed my grandma's fruit!
Imaging my absolute shock when I discovered my dearest and closest cousin had been the lucky one to not only save the tomato red buffet, but the whole set of 8 fruits!! I would also later discover that her parents had saved Grandma's clock, and would gift it to me, but that's another story...
Upon preparing to leave from another visit to my cousin and dreading leaving "home" to return to where I live 600 miles north, she ever so casually says that I can choose my favorite 4 fruits. We are splitting the set and sharing what was a dear memory for us both in order to keep it alive in our own homes. I was stunned, and thrilled! I struggled with which ones to choose, but finally decided on my set. Now we each share a part of the grandmother we cherished so much as children, and keep her spirit present in our own homes. Of course, I have them in my kitchen where they belong. Where else could they go?
Oh, and as for the Bible.... my dad shocked me by blessing me with it a few years ago. I pull it out every so often an look at her notes and lessons in her own handwriting, and it fills me with more blessings than I could have ever imagined. All that was, still IS. And all is good!
\
Saturday, January 5, 2013
I changed my mind
Today is just another day. We all have them. Days that are not too busy, no special events. Days where haircuts, carwash, groceries and laundry are the highlights. Not a day packed full of photo ops and grand memories, so looking to be inspired for today's photo challenge was not easy to come by.
I will be honest. Day two and I already contemplated not doing my pic-of-the-day. Saving it for tomorrow and the possibility of some great capture was in the forefront of my mind. The great Border Battle football game is on the TV, dinner is done and the laundry just needs to run in the dryer. I'm pretty much "done for the day" and have nothing to show for it. Well, not quite. I did manage to recover $0.49 from the bottom of the washing machine when moving my clothes to the dryer. That isn't much, and certainly not payment enough for the task at hand, as I drop it in my change drawer the old saying "It all adds up" comes to mind. Low and behold there, too, is my pic.
As I peek in the top of my genie bottle shape jar to see how it stacks up, I realize im looking down from a high angle.... today's challenge.
I really like the effect. It's almost an artsy-fartsy look through the narrow neck of the bottle to the bounty below. Okay. Its not much of a bounty, so to speak, but it's a start. I cash it in every now and then and am always surprised at how much a jar of change can yield. Enough to fund mini-rewards and little pleasures that make it worth the while. Another chance to snag a peaceful moment which is always my mission.
I only wish the pockets would surrender some dollar bills as often as it does the coin.
I will be honest. Day two and I already contemplated not doing my pic-of-the-day. Saving it for tomorrow and the possibility of some great capture was in the forefront of my mind. The great Border Battle football game is on the TV, dinner is done and the laundry just needs to run in the dryer. I'm pretty much "done for the day" and have nothing to show for it. Well, not quite. I did manage to recover $0.49 from the bottom of the washing machine when moving my clothes to the dryer. That isn't much, and certainly not payment enough for the task at hand, as I drop it in my change drawer the old saying "It all adds up" comes to mind. Low and behold there, too, is my pic.
As I peek in the top of my genie bottle shape jar to see how it stacks up, I realize im looking down from a high angle.... today's challenge.
I only wish the pockets would surrender some dollar bills as often as it does the coin.
Friday, January 4, 2013
Something Green
I've decided to re-visit my plan to take a picture a day and write about it. This is a slight deviation from the original "rules" that I stated regarding taking a picture of something that says 'peace' to me because I am now working from a pre-determined list of what to shoot. I have set a calendar that has a idea for each day and I find something that fits the bill. Not quite the same freedom I allowed myself before. However.... I still think I can find the peace within this process based on what is in the photo and how it makes me feel. I have this idea that somewhere within that thought lies the opportunity to discover my peace, as was my original plan.
Today's theme is 'something green'. Awesome! I love green. It's my favorite color. I love the color of the leaves on the trees. The bright green of fresh cut grass. Moss. Green can even be seen in water.
Oops. I forgot to mention, its January in Minnesota. Not a lot of green to be found. Yes, pine trees are green. Boring. I'm not a fan of them and am allergic besides, so that is a no. Money is green. Christmas was 2 weeks ago so I don't have any of that! Some of my decorations (yes, they are still up) are green but I really don't want to use those to start.
I decide to turn to the fridge to find some consolation. Hey! I haven't eaten yet today, and I deserve breakfast! There is my green. No, not growing on the leftovers that I need to dispose of. My kitchen nightlight. Its one of those scented tart warmer things you plug in and it melts the smelly wax and makes everything fragrant and yummy. Its a pretty green glass mosaic that my mother gave me not too long ago. I had been eyeing hers and I think she feared for its disappearance so she got me one of my own.
Currently my warmer light is gently wafting the cozy smell of gingerbread in to the room. I love that smell. So warm, homey, delicious and...well... cozy. That may seem odd but it gives me the feeling of wrapping up in a soft blanket with cookie in hand and hot chocolate nearby while a good movie plays on the television. Snuggled up with someone I love nearby. Cozy.
Its funny how a smell can bring that much to a persons mind and senses. I can feel the blanket, almost taste the cookie and anticipate the smooth warmth of the chocolate as is slides down my throat.
That, my friends, is peace.
I wonder if there is turkey sandwich scented wax?
Today's theme is 'something green'. Awesome! I love green. It's my favorite color. I love the color of the leaves on the trees. The bright green of fresh cut grass. Moss. Green can even be seen in water.
Oops. I forgot to mention, its January in Minnesota. Not a lot of green to be found. Yes, pine trees are green. Boring. I'm not a fan of them and am allergic besides, so that is a no. Money is green. Christmas was 2 weeks ago so I don't have any of that! Some of my decorations (yes, they are still up) are green but I really don't want to use those to start.
I decide to turn to the fridge to find some consolation. Hey! I haven't eaten yet today, and I deserve breakfast! There is my green. No, not growing on the leftovers that I need to dispose of. My kitchen nightlight. Its one of those scented tart warmer things you plug in and it melts the smelly wax and makes everything fragrant and yummy. Its a pretty green glass mosaic that my mother gave me not too long ago. I had been eyeing hers and I think she feared for its disappearance so she got me one of my own.
Currently my warmer light is gently wafting the cozy smell of gingerbread in to the room. I love that smell. So warm, homey, delicious and...well... cozy. That may seem odd but it gives me the feeling of wrapping up in a soft blanket with cookie in hand and hot chocolate nearby while a good movie plays on the television. Snuggled up with someone I love nearby. Cozy.
Its funny how a smell can bring that much to a persons mind and senses. I can feel the blanket, almost taste the cookie and anticipate the smooth warmth of the chocolate as is slides down my throat.
That, my friends, is peace.
I wonder if there is turkey sandwich scented wax?
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
So.... what are you bringing, 2013?
Its here. The new year arrived.
I don't like New Years, and I don't get excited to celebrate it. I find it to be a time when we remember things from the ending year (and lets be honest, our memories hold better to the bad than the good) and we make resolutions for the new year that we all know that the likelihood of failure is greater than the chance of success. I know this sounds so negative, and normally that isn't the kind of thinker I am. I am usually accused of being a "Rose-colored glasses" bearer, but at years end/beginning I put on a different pair. They are very grey. I just don't like New Years.
I know that in our minds it gives us an opportunity to "wipe the slate clean and start fresh", but so does each sunrise. Every second that ticks by is a new chance to make that change you seem so sure will work just because the calendar shouts a new number to its name. Its a new you at any turn of the corner but we wait until the page on the desk says to "set those resolutions now". Even the television and radio are shouting it. Funny thing is, in February they will also be shouting about all the resolutions we have already failed to meet and now are being given a second chance to meet with a discount on a gym membership, a better rate on the car loan, or offers of a vacation hot-spot so we can fulfill the promise of more time with family and save a buck too!
Don't misunderstand. All of those resolutions we make are good things and goals we should be setting for ourselves. Most of us set them as an intention to do better, BE better than we feel we were the past year. Noble goals, and valid feelings. We all want to be better today than we were yesterday. There are always things we look back on and wish we could have done differently, and subsequently vow to choose wiser on when or if the situation calls again. So go ahead and plan. Set goals of intention. Be mindful every day. Just please do it because its Monday and not because we have to purchase a new calendar.
What I find most frustrating about the idea of resolutions is the anxiety that sets in when the goals are set, and the disappointment that ensues when one is not met. Neither of these emotions are helpful, not to mention pleasurable to experience. Isn't that what we want? We want to experience pleasure. We want help in the new year. We go to a big party with music, food, drink, laughter, streamers. We count down the final seconds and shout welcomes to its arrival. We kiss our loved ones and shoot confetti at its arrival. Why, then, does the rest of it make us regret its arrival? We sneak the extra cookie when we resolved to loose weight. We chastise ourselves for not going to the gym today because we just don't feel like it. We make excuses when we spend the extra $5 that was suppose to go to the savings because that is the promise you made yourself and the mystical "year".
Believe me, I have a list of promises I thought to make to myself. I haven't shared them with anyone. I haven't even officially written them down, so there is no evidence. However, I already feel the stress of making them happen. The judgement of whether or not I took a step toward accomplishing them. Its as if the New Year is a living thing and has eyes that watch my every move! ISH! This is exactly why I will not participate in the resolution movement. I never feel good about it.
Instead I am in search of a new kind of agreement with myself. One that has everything to do with ME, and NOTHING to do with the pages of the time-tracker on my wall. I will continue to use that to ensure I am on the right day as the rest of the world. Use it to be sure I am going to work (or not, if that is the case) when I should be. Use it to remember important events, and to anticipate things to come. I will not, however, pin a list or share with anyone what I plan to resolve this year in my life.
Funny thing is... I just noticed, I don't even have a "normal" 12-month calendar. I have one of those 18-month planners, and the calendar on the wall is the school year calendar. Clearly I have some aversion to the New Year that goes deep in to my subconscious. So be it! Every day is a day to set a goal or plan to be new in some way. I embrace that idea, and will not feel guilty! Well, maybe a little. Guilt has big claws...
I don't like New Years, and I don't get excited to celebrate it. I find it to be a time when we remember things from the ending year (and lets be honest, our memories hold better to the bad than the good) and we make resolutions for the new year that we all know that the likelihood of failure is greater than the chance of success. I know this sounds so negative, and normally that isn't the kind of thinker I am. I am usually accused of being a "Rose-colored glasses" bearer, but at years end/beginning I put on a different pair. They are very grey. I just don't like New Years.
I know that in our minds it gives us an opportunity to "wipe the slate clean and start fresh", but so does each sunrise. Every second that ticks by is a new chance to make that change you seem so sure will work just because the calendar shouts a new number to its name. Its a new you at any turn of the corner but we wait until the page on the desk says to "set those resolutions now". Even the television and radio are shouting it. Funny thing is, in February they will also be shouting about all the resolutions we have already failed to meet and now are being given a second chance to meet with a discount on a gym membership, a better rate on the car loan, or offers of a vacation hot-spot so we can fulfill the promise of more time with family and save a buck too!
Don't misunderstand. All of those resolutions we make are good things and goals we should be setting for ourselves. Most of us set them as an intention to do better, BE better than we feel we were the past year. Noble goals, and valid feelings. We all want to be better today than we were yesterday. There are always things we look back on and wish we could have done differently, and subsequently vow to choose wiser on when or if the situation calls again. So go ahead and plan. Set goals of intention. Be mindful every day. Just please do it because its Monday and not because we have to purchase a new calendar.
What I find most frustrating about the idea of resolutions is the anxiety that sets in when the goals are set, and the disappointment that ensues when one is not met. Neither of these emotions are helpful, not to mention pleasurable to experience. Isn't that what we want? We want to experience pleasure. We want help in the new year. We go to a big party with music, food, drink, laughter, streamers. We count down the final seconds and shout welcomes to its arrival. We kiss our loved ones and shoot confetti at its arrival. Why, then, does the rest of it make us regret its arrival? We sneak the extra cookie when we resolved to loose weight. We chastise ourselves for not going to the gym today because we just don't feel like it. We make excuses when we spend the extra $5 that was suppose to go to the savings because that is the promise you made yourself and the mystical "year".
Believe me, I have a list of promises I thought to make to myself. I haven't shared them with anyone. I haven't even officially written them down, so there is no evidence. However, I already feel the stress of making them happen. The judgement of whether or not I took a step toward accomplishing them. Its as if the New Year is a living thing and has eyes that watch my every move! ISH! This is exactly why I will not participate in the resolution movement. I never feel good about it.
Instead I am in search of a new kind of agreement with myself. One that has everything to do with ME, and NOTHING to do with the pages of the time-tracker on my wall. I will continue to use that to ensure I am on the right day as the rest of the world. Use it to be sure I am going to work (or not, if that is the case) when I should be. Use it to remember important events, and to anticipate things to come. I will not, however, pin a list or share with anyone what I plan to resolve this year in my life.
Sunday, December 2, 2012
My Own Theme Park
I thought about starting over with a new blog, a new idea and a new goal. I thought that truly that would be better than trying to breathe life in to this one... again. This may even be the third time I "re-started" this.
After deeper consideration, I realized there was no need. This is my space and for my participation. (yours as the reader goes without saying...) Sometimes my lack of contribution is its own statement. My life has been a series of roller-coaster rides and all the ups and downs that accompany them. I guess the "quiet times" were the times I was between rides, waiting in line for my ticket. Silly. My life takes place in my theme park and I have the unlimited ride wristband. I just forgot to put it on.
I'm wearing it now.... which ride should we go on first?
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Shhhhhh... Listen.
I've come to talk with you again.
Because a vision softly creeping
Left it's seeds while I was sleeping.
And the vision
That was planted in my brain
Still remains.
Within the sound
Of silence."
I have loved this song since I was a little girl. I can remember being about 4 when I would sit and listen. The words reaching me on some deeper level I couldn't comprehend at the time. Even when I hear it now, I find myself in a place of stillness within myself. It is a song that silences me.
Don't laugh. I know that seems like an impossible feat. Ha ha. It is true, though. Something in the rhythm as it begins catches me. Something in the words pulls at me. Somewhere in the near reverence in their voices, as if speaking to the silence, I am held. I am captivated.
Silence has so often been a place of fear for me. I think that is likely true for many people. That is why we fill our lives with a much noise as possible. Radios, TV, cell phones, YouTube, movies, useless chatter and small talk. I can think of dozens of times I have said something similar to the "nice weather we are having" comment to a clerk or the only other person in the elevator because the silence is uncomfortable. I bet you have too. That's not to say there can't be good found in the noise-makers. I love music and have found a lot of healing and inspiration from it. I would never want to be without it. That is for another post, though.
Something recently has been pushing me in to the silence. I have fought back. It keeps pushing. That must be a sign that there is something there for me to investigate. I know. Trust my gut and go with it. I struggle to do that. It is incredibly hard for me to do that. Every time I try, I panic. I don't like what is in the silence. I don't like who is in the silence. I don't want to face what is within the silence. I'm not comfortable being alone with the silence. Maybe it's an issue of trust.
Friends I have tried to explain this to before seem to misinterpret my fear for that of being afraid to be by myself. That is not at all my issue.
My issue... is me.
I am what is in the silence... the one in the silence. I am the one I don't want to face, and don't want to be alone with. When it is quiet, I start to think. I start to try to process all of the things rolling around in there. Try to make sense of things. I hear that small voice within starting to try to reach out to me and I squash it. I don't want to hear it. I can't bring myself in to the silence to listen.
It seems to me that this is some issue of trust. Trust in myself. My "higher self" if you will. My intuition. My gut. My God? Whatever or whomever, I don't trust it/them/me.
Why?
Clearly there is a need to do this or I wouldn't constantly feel this "push" to be silent. Silence is so unlike me. I am not usually one to be quiet. (again, stop laughing...) I have tried it in baby-steps. It is not at all easy, for me. I think that is why the song I started with has magically made an odd appearance in my life. Its been on the radio. I saw a YouTube video of it as a 9/11 memorial tribute. It popped up on my IPod. Someone is trying to get me to be silent. The first verse plays over and over in my head... "a vision softly creeping. Left it's seeds while I was sleeping. And the vision that was planted in my brain still remains. Within the sounds of silence."
I wonder what that vision is? What is that wants to show itself to me? Or who?
I have to come to terms with whatever is behind this fear of myself. My friends tell me to get out, go for a walk. Go be outside. At first I couldn't do that. Literally. The fear paralyzed me. I couldn't put to words how I felt or what that was doing to me. I don't think they got it. I'm still not sure they really grasp how dark a place that was and how debilitating it was, and sometimes still is. I haven't yet been able to go, only now at least I understand why. I wish I could make someone understand. I need to talk this through in order to work it out right in my head. A therapist isn't the answer. I don't want to start over and explain to a stranger. I just want to get to the matter and deal.
I bet that's exactly what the silence is trying to get me to do...
I hate it when I'm right. What was it I said about flashlights in my last post? Duh. I guess I need new batteries...
Something recently has been pushing me in to the silence. I have fought back. It keeps pushing. That must be a sign that there is something there for me to investigate. I know. Trust my gut and go with it. I struggle to do that. It is incredibly hard for me to do that. Every time I try, I panic. I don't like what is in the silence. I don't like who is in the silence. I don't want to face what is within the silence. I'm not comfortable being alone with the silence. Maybe it's an issue of trust.
Friends I have tried to explain this to before seem to misinterpret my fear for that of being afraid to be by myself. That is not at all my issue.
My issue... is me.
I am what is in the silence... the one in the silence. I am the one I don't want to face, and don't want to be alone with. When it is quiet, I start to think. I start to try to process all of the things rolling around in there. Try to make sense of things. I hear that small voice within starting to try to reach out to me and I squash it. I don't want to hear it. I can't bring myself in to the silence to listen.
It seems to me that this is some issue of trust. Trust in myself. My "higher self" if you will. My intuition. My gut. My God? Whatever or whomever, I don't trust it/them/me.
Why?
Clearly there is a need to do this or I wouldn't constantly feel this "push" to be silent. Silence is so unlike me. I am not usually one to be quiet. (again, stop laughing...) I have tried it in baby-steps. It is not at all easy, for me. I think that is why the song I started with has magically made an odd appearance in my life. Its been on the radio. I saw a YouTube video of it as a 9/11 memorial tribute. It popped up on my IPod. Someone is trying to get me to be silent. The first verse plays over and over in my head... "a vision softly creeping. Left it's seeds while I was sleeping. And the vision that was planted in my brain still remains. Within the sounds of silence."
I wonder what that vision is? What is that wants to show itself to me? Or who?
I have to come to terms with whatever is behind this fear of myself. My friends tell me to get out, go for a walk. Go be outside. At first I couldn't do that. Literally. The fear paralyzed me. I couldn't put to words how I felt or what that was doing to me. I don't think they got it. I'm still not sure they really grasp how dark a place that was and how debilitating it was, and sometimes still is. I haven't yet been able to go, only now at least I understand why. I wish I could make someone understand. I need to talk this through in order to work it out right in my head. A therapist isn't the answer. I don't want to start over and explain to a stranger. I just want to get to the matter and deal.
I bet that's exactly what the silence is trying to get me to do...
I hate it when I'm right. What was it I said about flashlights in my last post? Duh. I guess I need new batteries...
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Flashlights and Neon Signs
The hardest part about starting over is figuring out how to start over. There is no road map, and no guidebook. There isn't even someone there telling you which way to go. It's feels like standing in the middle of a dark forest, and all you have is a little flashlight. No matter which way you point it, it doesn't illuminate enough to help you know which way the road is. All it shows you is the trees in your face, and the dirt at your feet. You hear the noises, unfamiliar and undefined all around you. So.... which way do you go? Where IS everybody?
The forest can be a scary place when you're alone in the dark. What I want is the neon sign with the big flashing arrow pointing "this way, dummy!"
I guess when I really think about it, I have had those neon signs a few times, and I ignored them. Later, when I fell in a hole, I had time to think. I remember when I saw the neon, and smack myself. DUH! I knew it all along! Why didn't I believe myself? Good question. Why? Why didn't I trust what I knew?
I think it's all a part of the whole plan. The scheme. The big picture. The puppet show we call life. Its beyond what we can control, so we let it control us. We feel helpless to stop the direction life is taking us so we sit back and coast along instead of standing up and yelling STOP! Life is going to go whatever direction it is meant to, with or without our input. We cant control it. What we can control is how we chose to interact with our lives. We can choose the path we walk. Or we can choose to stand still. We can close our eyes, we can cover our ears. We can change our minds and go with what feels easy or good at the time, or say no because we believe what we have right now is worth more attention. We can choose to try something new. We can choose to change nothing. We can lie to ourselves and pretend for others. None of it changes the path life leads. It does, however, change how we lead our lives.
The neon signs are great for spotting something way off in the distance, and I look for them to be sure I'm still headed in the right direction. Today, or any day, I would choose a flashlight first, so I can stop tripping over the shit at my feet and maybe get through the woods with a few less scrapes, bruises and broken parts. Looking at the "big picture" gives us a goal, but seeing whats right at our feet gives us a better idea of what the next step is.
Stock up on batteries, my friends. Its a big forest.
The forest can be a scary place when you're alone in the dark. What I want is the neon sign with the big flashing arrow pointing "this way, dummy!"
I guess when I really think about it, I have had those neon signs a few times, and I ignored them. Later, when I fell in a hole, I had time to think. I remember when I saw the neon, and smack myself. DUH! I knew it all along! Why didn't I believe myself? Good question. Why? Why didn't I trust what I knew?
I think it's all a part of the whole plan. The scheme. The big picture. The puppet show we call life. Its beyond what we can control, so we let it control us. We feel helpless to stop the direction life is taking us so we sit back and coast along instead of standing up and yelling STOP! Life is going to go whatever direction it is meant to, with or without our input. We cant control it. What we can control is how we chose to interact with our lives. We can choose the path we walk. Or we can choose to stand still. We can close our eyes, we can cover our ears. We can change our minds and go with what feels easy or good at the time, or say no because we believe what we have right now is worth more attention. We can choose to try something new. We can choose to change nothing. We can lie to ourselves and pretend for others. None of it changes the path life leads. It does, however, change how we lead our lives.
The neon signs are great for spotting something way off in the distance, and I look for them to be sure I'm still headed in the right direction. Today, or any day, I would choose a flashlight first, so I can stop tripping over the shit at my feet and maybe get through the woods with a few less scrapes, bruises and broken parts. Looking at the "big picture" gives us a goal, but seeing whats right at our feet gives us a better idea of what the next step is.
Stock up on batteries, my friends. Its a big forest.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
New adventures are supposed to be exciting and fun. I suppose that is true most of the time, but sometimes life just begins an adventure that we weren't planning for. Those times don't always prove to be that much fun. They do, however, most often become the more significant learning experiences we receive. The tough part is what to do with those experiences. They are, indeed, opportunities for us to learn from. Something that will be a part of our growth be it emotionally, spiritually, or mentally.
Growing pains are a very real part of growth. Especially growing up. In essence, we are always in a state of growing up, but some are slower to start and make big strides later. This is not the way I recommend. It usually hurts more! The lessons are swift and the steps come fast. Sometimes I don't understand why I don't take the "baby steps" as they present. Why do I avoid them until they are leaps and bounds?
Growing pains are a very real part of growth. Especially growing up. In essence, we are always in a state of growing up, but some are slower to start and make big strides later. This is not the way I recommend. It usually hurts more! The lessons are swift and the steps come fast. Sometimes I don't understand why I don't take the "baby steps" as they present. Why do I avoid them until they are leaps and bounds?
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Three Ways
Just listening to music by a group that seems to have some odd healing powers on me... Love the Wallflowers...
There's three ways out of every box
Fall out the bottom
Or you crawl out the top
There's three ways
Out of every, every box
But if you can't find your way out
Then you just burn it
To the ground
Then you'll disappear
Like smoke
Into the clouds
There's three ways off a merry-go-round
You either jump
Or you let it slow down
There's three ways
Off a merry-go, merry-go round
But if you can't put your foot down
Then you just burn it
To the ground
Then you walk away
Real slow
Back into the crowd
There's always somebody there for a laugh
Then you're the only one
That's left
Now that's what you get
Left behind in the wreck
There's three ways off a burning bridge
You pray for rain
Or you learn how to swim
There's three ways off of every
Burning bridge
But if you can't find strength
And you quit
Then you can just burn up
And sink
Then you'll drift away
Real slow
Down into the ground
There's three ways out of every box
Fall out the bottom
Or you crawl out the top
There's three ways
Out of every, every box
But if you can't find your way out
Then you just burn it
To the ground
Then you'll disappear
Like smoke
Into the clouds
There's three ways off a merry-go-round
You either jump
Or you let it slow down
There's three ways
Off a merry-go, merry-go round
But if you can't put your foot down
Then you just burn it
To the ground
Then you walk away
Real slow
Back into the crowd
There's always somebody there for a laugh
Then you're the only one
That's left
Now that's what you get
Left behind in the wreck
There's three ways off a burning bridge
You pray for rain
Or you learn how to swim
There's three ways off of every
Burning bridge
But if you can't find strength
And you quit
Then you can just burn up
And sink
Then you'll drift away
Real slow
Down into the ground
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Critical Mass
My first realization in changing course, was recognizing what I am missing. I have gotten off-track with a few things that help keep me sane. I need to take a deep breath, relax, and start over. Actually, a friend of mine would challenge my notion of "starting over". Not possible, he would say. I disagree. If each day is a new opportunity, then I can start over with the things I have done before by doing them in a new way. Taking each day like a re-birth, therefore allowing me to start over. If it were starting "new", that implies I have no prior knowledge. Wrong. In starting over, I take what I learned from previous experiences and use that to do it a new way, hopefully changing the outcome. We will see what his take on my thought process is, I'm sure! Either way, I have decided a new approach is best, and that means change. It also means retrieving things from my life that I have let go astray that bring me happiness... and peace. That is, ultimately, what I seek.
That being said, I pick up my proverbial "pen" and re-introduce myself to my blog. Writing brings me a great peace. I have many journals around my home, for different things and topics. I have dusted them off as well. I love to use pen and paper. It feels more personal. I feel like I am leaving more of me on the pages than in using a keyboard. However, I enjoy the idea of a blog as well. A different medium and a different journey. I welcome them back to myself. Another piece of peace re-claimed. I have achieved what I set to accomplish today. One baby-step at a time.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
A Place For Peace
I had some thoughts that have resurfaced. This isn't the first time feeling this. I have this desire to create a place that is a living testament to exactly what this blog is all about. I want to create a space that allows myself and others to "be" peace. Something small and intimate where someone can partake in a variety of things that are meant to help bring about a piece of peace to the individual participating. I want it to be something that uses multiple mediums and ignites varied senses. Smells, textures, tastes, sounds and sights that can assist us in reaching moments of peace.
People's lives are so busy that I believe we often neglect ourselves until things become critical. At that point we then rush to find a fix. We hope to find something to make it better, and ignore the fact that it is a process that needs to be tended to regularly. I want to assist others in doing just that. Tend to themselves. Like I stated in my opening blog, peace is a state of being. I don't think most people realize that. It can't be found. It must be created. I want to help people do that. I believe that in doing this, I will benefit from it by creating some peace for myself in the process. I have always felt so good within myself when I'm helping others. Maybe a regular, large dose of my peace can come from helping others know it for themselves. It just feels right. I hope I can discover a way to make it real. Making peace can feel so good!
The details are fuzzy, and my ideas random, but I feel like I should keep a list of them somewhere.
I don't know if this will happen, but I like thinking about it. Ooooh... another piece/peace!
People's lives are so busy that I believe we often neglect ourselves until things become critical. At that point we then rush to find a fix. We hope to find something to make it better, and ignore the fact that it is a process that needs to be tended to regularly. I want to assist others in doing just that. Tend to themselves. Like I stated in my opening blog, peace is a state of being. I don't think most people realize that. It can't be found. It must be created. I want to help people do that. I believe that in doing this, I will benefit from it by creating some peace for myself in the process. I have always felt so good within myself when I'm helping others. Maybe a regular, large dose of my peace can come from helping others know it for themselves. It just feels right. I hope I can discover a way to make it real. Making peace can feel so good!
The details are fuzzy, and my ideas random, but I feel like I should keep a list of them somewhere.
- space to meditate
- art and craft projects meant to encourage a peaceful state of mind (like creating mandalas, dream catchers, photography)
- music and books
- aromatherapy
- massage
- foods that heal; comfort foods
- garden
I don't know if this will happen, but I like thinking about it. Ooooh... another piece/peace!
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Its In The Little Things
I spent some time trying to figure out how I was going to go about this task of finding ways to have pieces of peace. I need to find ways to get snippets of that state of being free of conflict or troubles. Feeling the pressure of daily life makes this a task that requires planning. Oops. There I go again trying to "search" for it. This morning I had a realization.
I woke up early and had to get all the kids up and ready to get going to the curling club. All three are in a Bonspiel and we had to be at the club by 9am. First things first. The dog had to go out and do his thing. I leave the warmth of my bed and made my way to the door to let him out into the back yard. Everything was white! Apparently there had been a light snow and frost overnight and our world was frosted with a layer of white. It was breathtaking. It stopped me in my tracks. There was something in the contrast of the dark of the tree bark and the white of the covered branches...... It was peaceful.
I couldn't help but take pictures. There was such a stillness in the air and in myself as I stared out the windows. There was my "ah-ha" moment. I didn't have to find it. It was right there for me. I just had to see it. Feel it. Be it.
When my senses came to, I realized that I had discovered a piece of peace. I also knew that in photographing the moment, it was there for me to feel it again. Bingo! I am going to photograph as many moments of my peace as I can. Anything that I encounter that lets me be in that state, even if only for a fleeting moment. I can do that. What a wonderful album that would be to browse through at times when I cannot find that state within myself. Days when I just need a little help. I think I may be on to something......
I woke up early and had to get all the kids up and ready to get going to the curling club. All three are in a Bonspiel and we had to be at the club by 9am. First things first. The dog had to go out and do his thing. I leave the warmth of my bed and made my way to the door to let him out into the back yard. Everything was white! Apparently there had been a light snow and frost overnight and our world was frosted with a layer of white. It was breathtaking. It stopped me in my tracks. There was something in the contrast of the dark of the tree bark and the white of the covered branches...... It was peaceful.
I couldn't help but take pictures. There was such a stillness in the air and in myself as I stared out the windows. There was my "ah-ha" moment. I didn't have to find it. It was right there for me. I just had to see it. Feel it. Be it.
When my senses came to, I realized that I had discovered a piece of peace. I also knew that in photographing the moment, it was there for me to feel it again. Bingo! I am going to photograph as many moments of my peace as I can. Anything that I encounter that lets me be in that state, even if only for a fleeting moment. I can do that. What a wonderful album that would be to browse through at times when I cannot find that state within myself. Days when I just need a little help. I think I may be on to something......
Thursday, February 11, 2010
The Beginning
The only way to find peace, I've realized, is to stop looking for it. It just isn't there to be found. It can't be found. You can search all you like. Go ahead. Don't take my word for it. Let me know how that goes for you. By all means, prove me wrong. I DARE you. In fact, I double-dog dare you! Peace, like it or not, will not be found. Why? It's not lost. You can only "find" what you've lost. So, if you're looking for peace, stop it. You cannot find what is not lost. Peace is not lost. We are.
Webster's dictionary defines peace as "a state of tranquillity or quiet". Okay. So, what is tranquillity? "The quality of state of being tranquil". Gosh, thanks. That really helps. Fine. Define tranquil. "Free from agitation of mind or spirit". Now we are getting somewhere. Take this one step further. Agitate: "to excite and often trouble the mind or feelings of".
I would have to say a clarified definition of peace is " a quiet state of being where mind and spirit are free from trouble or excitement". Now it makes sense why we cant find it. Peace is something we have to BE.
It sounds so simple. Be peace. Be in a quiet state. Free myself from trouble and excitement. My mind and my spirit at peace. HA!
How?
I need directions. I don't understand how to accomplish this. There are hundreds of books out there on being happy, finding love, having the perfect relationship. Finding the right job. I cant find a how-to book on being peace. I'm not convinced it is a state anyone can be. At least not in a constant way. A state of mind is a condition or stage of being. That implies it changes. Therefore, peace changes. That being true, we would then need to reach that state of being again, and again, and so on.
This revelation has prompted me to start creating ways to reach that state of being. It is a journey of sorts. I don't need to pack a suitcase, though that may be something I choose to do. For now, I just need to figure out ways to "be". What little things can I do to get glimpses of where I'm trying to go?
Webster's dictionary defines peace as "a state of tranquillity or quiet". Okay. So, what is tranquillity? "The quality of state of being tranquil". Gosh, thanks. That really helps. Fine. Define tranquil. "Free from agitation of mind or spirit". Now we are getting somewhere. Take this one step further. Agitate: "to excite and often trouble the mind or feelings of".
I would have to say a clarified definition of peace is " a quiet state of being where mind and spirit are free from trouble or excitement". Now it makes sense why we cant find it. Peace is something we have to BE.
It sounds so simple. Be peace. Be in a quiet state. Free myself from trouble and excitement. My mind and my spirit at peace. HA!
How?
I need directions. I don't understand how to accomplish this. There are hundreds of books out there on being happy, finding love, having the perfect relationship. Finding the right job. I cant find a how-to book on being peace. I'm not convinced it is a state anyone can be. At least not in a constant way. A state of mind is a condition or stage of being. That implies it changes. Therefore, peace changes. That being true, we would then need to reach that state of being again, and again, and so on.
This revelation has prompted me to start creating ways to reach that state of being. It is a journey of sorts. I don't need to pack a suitcase, though that may be something I choose to do. For now, I just need to figure out ways to "be". What little things can I do to get glimpses of where I'm trying to go?
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