On giving thanks

In recent days, I have turned my heart, with intention, to giving thanks.  I found myself falling into all that is negative in the world and made a firm pact with myself to stop the slant toward worldly rants, placing myself in harm’s way for becoming more radical in my negative thoughts.  The bottom line for me is that forever I have wanted my life to be peace based. Anything else would just not do. So instead my daily journal is filled with the things that are righteous, true, loving, kind, and upbuilding to the heart.  It does not mean that I am forgetting what is out there in the world that I find shocking and heartbreaking.  I plan to stay informed. But I will belt my waist with truth and what is just. My focus becomes the pen strikes on paper that read something so heartfelt that it becomes etched in the soul, given to God as deep and profound as His love.  Along with my pen strokes, I have added soft jazz to write to. Chris Botti, “Slowing Down the World”.  Leaning in, praying for peace, until it becomes effortless, real. img_4236

What A Difference A Year Makes

Last year I went with my beautiful niece to explore Bird Island and the Kindred Spirit mailbox.  The day was golden. The sun was shining. Shells glistened the beach and the ocean melted all of the stressors I have come to know as I walked and chatted with her.  Today is that one year anniversary of our walk to the Kindred Spirit mailbox where people bare their souls by writing in the collections of notebooks left for wanderers to write in.  Over 100,000 people have made the 1.4 mile trek from Sunset Beach pier to the mailbox, where heartfelt notes have been penned.  

That was last year.  Since last year, I have had a major, life changing surgery. I have a new grand-daughter, Elora. I have acquired new clients, had to transfer clients to service coordinators who will manage their new funding and services. My daughter from Germany came home and we spent some glorious time together here at home and then with our very best friends in Florida.  I fell in love with Nora, my friend’s daughter and taught her brother Brian how to make fried eggs.  I traveled to Myrtle Beach, SC and saw my sisters, made a new friend (Jim).  I witnessed a harvest moon, started writing daily in a journal of thanks, got a raise and another one week paid vacation.  

This week has been like no other. The United States elected a new president.  The turmoil has been palpable. Unrest everywhere.  Fear.  Loathing. And a glimpse of change and hope thrown in. 

I hope by this time next year, God willing, I will return to my blog with another year sprinkled with good news.  And my niece and I will write more messages in the Kindred Mailbox. 

A Rebel For Real

As I get older and face more challenges, I am of the opinion that I am a rebel at heart. I don’t take much lying down anymore. I have been a work in progress, challenging myself to try and tone down my words, season them and use my “inside voice”. I am no Chelsea Handler, but I adore her willingness to speak her mind. I find it oddly refreshing. Because of my personality type (of course, it is 1% of the population), I have forever been unable or unwilling to voice how I truly feel. Turning inward, internalizing, has been a curse because communication is so important. Years ago, someone in my life that I loved squelched my voice. I soon learned that to beg for love and ask for words was futile. So I quit doing it. I always felt like my words had validation and meant something. To hear that it wasn’t so was almost too much for me to bear. So I dropped the speech, turned to photos as a means of expression. Until now. I know now that words have power, and cannot be taken back. I am striving to think of the words before I say them. Full of emotion does not lend itself to saying things that I truly mean. But that doesn’t mean I can’t be a rebel and start saying things that I truly feel. Because I will. I will still avoid the loud, misshaped syllables and lines that buzz around my head. My sensitive body cannot handle loud. Especially Donald Trump. If I have to listen to him for four years I will need a soundproof war room to silently pray in. I am rebelling against everything he LOUDLY stands for. How did this become political and opinionated? The Chelsea Handler just came out in me.

Reflections 

This weekend has been particularly difficult for friends and family in the southern US.  Hurricane Matthew was slated to be a huge storm and it devastated Haiti. Reports from that country were so terribly sad.  South Carolina was hit as well as Florida and many were left inundated with too much water, no electricity, and many fled to higher ground.  I love the south.  It’s a different world.  The pace is slower, people are friendlier, the sun mostly shines all the time.  My prayer is for healing these areas, and the trauma that came along with it.  Fleeing and staying away has to be difficult.  Traveling back to homes and businesses that were damaged would take courage.  Faith that everything is going to be ok is what I hope for. I love the sea and sun and pray for these beautiful areas as people return and the sun comes out again. And it will. 

Screeching 

It’s a haunting sound.  In my backyard at night I hear the screeching sound of the screech owl.  I stand and look at the stars and hear him call. What is he calling?  His screech reminds me that nature is ever present, largely untouched in the natural state.  He deserves to be here, high in the trees, sending out his calls to declare his territory, call mates or locate owlets.  He makes his presence known, in the dark, sending me scrambling back inside because it’s so eerie.  Welcome October. 

An Old Soul

The dog on the front porch scene is one that I have always been drawn to.  That is this dog. This 16 year old sweet soul who is currently sleeping on my kitchen floor.  She is dreaming of when she was a youngster.  Her younger days.  I was told she can swim and still swims well.  She swam in a pond on Friday.  She hates the crate. She sleeps a lot.  She carries stuffed toys in her mouth like a puppy does.  She has stolen a part of my heart.  I will never be the same.  I should have said no to this larger older dog during a time when my body is still mending and healing from surgery.  But I thought I could do this.  I wanted to do it. I’ve  always wanted to do it.  My fear is that I can no longer.  I keep saying yes I can. I’m tenacious like that. 

Shadow has taught me more about grace, love, compassion, and patience.  She will never know how far into my heart she has come.  I am angry and glad at the same time. How can that be?  Angry that I allowed it.  Glad that I allowed it.  

I don’t know any more. 

Millions (A large Number)

South Carolina (Dorchester County) recently sprayed chemicals overhead  in the fight against the Zika virus.  One of the local bee keepers was not informed in advance and her hives were not covered or secured from the genocide.  Millions of these golden (in more ways than one) life giving, beautiful hard working creatures lost their lives.  The buzzing stopped.  The world went silent.  

I have not visited this beehive. But I wept.  

If we do not stop the nonsense the very future of our planet and our children is endangered.  

While at a nature event today one of the rangers told me that Ohio has a wide variety of bees but that all of them are in danger due to mosquito spraying here in the Midwest. Are we naive enough to think that it is just mosquitos and bees are affected?  What about the food supply for the those that are migrating south?  Without the bees pollinating apple blossoms we would miss the apples in the fall.  

I know that God is in control.  I often wonder how often He looks down on us and shakes his head.  I firmly believe the scripture that says “He will bring to ruin those ruining the earth”. 🌎. Revelation 11:18.