Things we may never know

A couple years ago a friend of mine lost his sister to a long battle with breast cancer.  I had only met her twice but felt that honoring her life was very important to those she left behind.  I made a personal phone call, sent a sympathy card and ordered a memorial candle to have shipped to him in her memory.  That was all I was able to do at the time. 

I had no idea the impact that would make on someone’s life. 

The memorial candle was so well received by her husband that he asked for it to be a part of her memorial funeral service.  It was with her at the casket.  And accompanied her to her cremation ceremony.  It meant more to him than I can ever have imagined.  

One small gesture became one beautiful thing that transcends time and place.  One small gesture can help heal a heart.  One small gesture can suture a break.  

When I heard this story, I was flooded with emotion.  There is so much more to do and it begins today. 

Memorial candles will be my next focus.  I have found a beautiful thing to celebrate a life. 

Advertisements

WordPress Celebration/Goodbye 2016

I’m basically a positive person.  I fight negativity.  I would rather encourage and be inspired.  I use this venue to place my thoughts into an electronic spot, eliminating the paper and pen approach.  It’s easier to edit, press forward, a lot like life.  It’s my WordPress anniversary and although I have few readers, I will continue to craft my own blogs and do what I enjoy here. 

Today I wish to watch as 2016 fades away. It has been a year that has seen a lot of changes in the world that frighten me to the core.  I will remain positive!  I will stand up for my own personal opinion.  I will fight for what I find to be my own personal truth. It isn’t easy sometimes to say how you really feel especially in this climate but I am going to try!   

I’m rewriting this new year, and it is going to be a good one.  Goodbye 2016. Thank you for my new grand-daughter, and for surviving a pretty major GI surgery.  It’s all good.

The Earth Rests

Winter, again. 

Ah, winter.  The boots, hats, gloves, coats, long underwear, long evenings spent watching old movies, sitting by the fire. 

Is it worth time and effort to lament it away? 

I recently picked up 10.5 knitting needles and cream colored yarn with streams of gold and learned the ancient art of knitting.  Winter has silently started to melt away.  While my needles click and clack, my mind and body relaxes into a mellow state.  I feel the day’s tension is no longer an issue.  I’m no longer concerned that the weather outside is keeping me off the trails at the ponds and the egrets and sand hill cranes have flown south.  I’m not reading articles about politics and all that craziness.  I’m creating, something that wasn’t and now is.  

I’m learning to add yarn after the string runs out.  Oh the possibilities are endless.  Unlike winter, that will end and usher in warmer days until I can get back to the beach. 

Perspective on a day slated to be a Polar Vortex.  While I click and clack, I will dream about wintry activities and write about them. 

I guess while the earth rests I will too. 

Seeker of Knowledge

It’s a curse to be so inquisitive. Or maybe I just think it is. I want to understand too many things. Acupuncture for instance.  How does poking a tiny needle into a meridian make a difference in the body, creating less pain and more euphoria?   Essential oils.  How does the oil from lavender cross the blood brain area and produce good results for the recipient?  Horses. Why are they so much like humans in temperament? How can they read the rider’s emotions?  Surgeons.  Why are they so intelligent and have the ability to do so many intricate healing designs in the human body after the anesthesia takes hold?  Authors. Why do some people have a knack for sitting down to pen words that can remain through eons of time?  Dancers.  How do dancers learn and remember all the steps of the ballroom and make it look like they are floating on air?  Pilots. Every time I get in an airplane I look at the pilot.  Why are they always so handsome?  How do they do what they do and do it safely? I can barely do it on a game simulator on my phone.  Sales people.  I don’t have that gene.  Dog trainers.  My dogs have zero manners.  I haven’t a clue.  But I try and learn. Architects. Interior designers. Chefs. Playwrights. Actors. Actresses.  How do the humble people at the local community theater remember all those lines?  And what about the person who wrote the play to begin with?  

These things make me realize how much talent we all have inside our curious souls.  And having written this, I tend to believe that curiosity is a gift.  My mother-in- law once asked me if I would ever stop looking and doing all that I do. After many years and by the stacks of books on so many topics of interest, I believe that the answer would be no.  

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.