Yes, I am still in the middle of my sorting and cleaning tasks and they have been consuming most of my time and energy. Yuck! We have made time each sunny day for a walk or a bike ride, but not much else. I have been in the cardboard and cobwebs for long enough though. I need a break!!!
I still have a ton of stuff to go through, but will put things on hold for now and come up out of the rubble in the basement to prepare for a little get-a-way to Riverwood for a couple of weeks. I so need a walk in the woods, the smell of wood smoke, the sound of the Loon, and the sight of the autumn leaves.
Riverwood is a 117-acre piece of property up North in the Kawartha Lakes that belongs to my sister. It has a river running through it, lots of old logging trails to walk along and open fields to saunter over. In the fall we crunch leaves under our feet as we walk along, and in the winter we snowshoe over the snowy fields and forest paths. Ahh, a little piece of heaven on earth in any season. Well, maybe not black fly season, but even then we have special bug jackets and pants that allow us to walk in the woods and enjoy the great out doors.
An old cozy farmhouse with a big country kitchen, offers a cool retreat in summer and a warm haven in fall and winter. There is nothing like going out for a walk on a cold autumn morning and coming back into the fragrant warm kitchen of the farmhouse. The smell of fresh brewed coffee and wood smoke greet you at the door and wrap you in a warm embrace. I absolutely love it there.
We not only get to enjoy the great outdoors while we are there, but also find time to read and write and just plain relax. We have dial up access to the internet, so we take our laptops with us and keep in touch with family and friends and the outside world that way, but there is no TV and when the phone rings, it is never for us. We can completely get away up there. Yes, heaven on earth indeed.
So, up from under the cardboard and cobwebs in my basement and off to Riverwood next week for a Canadian Thanksgiving celebration in the country. Delicious. I can almost smell the turkey cooking already. Pumpkin pie anyone? Everything tastes so much better eaten around that big old farmhouse kitchen table. Must be the love added to each dish when we gather together up there. MMmmmm good.
We had a bike carrier put on the car yesterday, so this year we will take the bikes with us and add that pleasure to all the others at Riverwood.
Must run now and get this house and garden ready to leave for a couple of weeks. The sun is shining today, but it might be cold and rainy by the time we get back, so time to put the garden ornaments away and get ready for winter.
I hope you get a chance to walk in the sunshine today and crunch a few leaves under your feet as you mosey along. Enjoy the day.
Thursday, September 30, 2004
Saturday, September 25, 2004
Confessions of a Pack Rat
As you can tell from the lack of writing these days, I have been up to my ears in a major, time consuming, project. Rainy cold weather is just around the corner, but for now, the sun has been shining every day and the weather warm and mild, so bike riding has been number one on the agenda and the major project number two. Alas, reading and writing have been neglected. I simply must take a writing break this morning though and put something down on “paper” while I relax with my morning coffee and plan my day. “A day without writing is like a day without sunshine.” Isn’t that how the old saying goes?
First thing on the agenda today is writing, second is cleaning the patio furniture and putting it away for the season and the third is to head out on the bike trails. MMMM, sounds good to me.
In my last Blog I wrote about contemplating our next move, and the emotional upset it would be. This week I have been faced with another major consequence of eventually moving to a smaller place. Downsizing!! The very thought of it sends chills up and down my spine. Why? You may ask. Because, I am a pack rat!!! Yes, I confess – a pack rat.
I come by it honestly though. My father was the king of pack rats. The absolute, all time King! He couldn’t throw anything away, and he even collected stuff that other people had thrown out in case he might need it some day. Oh the stuff he had in that house. Yikes!
Anyway, back to the present. We have lived in this house for over 20 years, and I am up to my ears in stuff. When my mom died, I moved some of her “stuff” in with my stuff and when John’s mom died we cleaned out her house and – yes – you are right. We now have her “stuff” here too. Groan!
It is so hard to get rid of something someone else has considered a treasure, so I just added it to my treasures and packed it all away. I also have stuff that I am storing for Ladybug who is still in school and stuff I need to give to Butterfly. So, the time has come to unpack all the stuff I have stored in every nook and cranny of this house, look at it and deal with it. Oh dear. What a job.
I am bound and determined to de-clutter my life though, so each day after our bike ride we have been down in the basement or up in the den, sorting through boxes and de-cluttering. So far this week, three or four huge loads have gone to the Goodwill and another one will soon follow. We put out our paper recycling garbage yesterday and the boxes totally lined the curb in front of our house. AC and I went through an old file cabinet and found teaching notes from 30 years ago. Sheesh! We marvelled at how times had changed since he first started teaching. He used to spend hours typing out lesson plans and class handouts, on an old manual typewriter, using ditto paper. The old typewriter would punch out the centre of each “o” on the ditto paper and I would find them all over the place. What a mess. Now everything is done on a computer and Xerox machine. What a difference.
OK, back to the present again. Even though we have cleaned all this stuff out, it doesn’t look like we have gotten rid of anything. I am not kidding. What is going on here? I got an email from my sister this week that helped explain this to me. Let me include part of her note here...
Greetings dear de-clutterer:
I have been on the de-cluttering path for about a year now, so I know what you are going through. The scary thing is that box upon box has gone out yet I'm not seeing empty spaces. I swear stuff breeds more stuff and if you give it any room it just expands to fill the space.
I remember when I worked in Ethiopia, Peter, the nurse I worked with, said that he may be late coming back from lunch because he was moving. I spent the siesta worrying about how I would manage at the clinic by myself. I wasn't ready to solo on treating a tropical illness or removing a spear (the barbs were very tricky as I recall). It turns out my worry was for naught. Peter was back right on time, from noon to 2:00 PM he had moved his wife, four children, 2 goats and all their belongings on foot (and head), he had also squeezed in a tasty lunch and a wee nap to boot. We definitely are drowning in useless stuff here aren't we?……
We are for sure drowning in stuff and I am coming to the conclusion that we don’t own it, but it owns us. Once we have something, we have to dust it, or oil it, or paint it, or clean it, or polish it, or brush it, or feed it, or pack it away or - something. It takes our time and attention in some way and therefore our energy. Do I really want to waste my precious time and energy on all this stuff? No!!! No, I really don’t! I am going to de-clutter and simplify. I am.
I can remember going to my parents' cottage when my girls were young and spending a large part of the summer there. We had no running water and the cottage was just a rough cabin really. We would go into town for our drinking water, and all the other water was taken out of the creek. We washed our hair in a bucket outside using cold creek water and had a wash in a little basin in the kitchen each night. We had no indoor plumbing, so the spider infested outhouse was visited both in early morning rain and late night clouds of bugs. Ohhhh, creepy! We even had mice and other wild things think that they lived in the cabin and we were the intruders! The nerve.
We absolutely loved it there though. I would come home at the end of the summer and feel strange in my house with running water and indoor plumbing. I would long to go back to the cabin in the woods and be free. In time though, I would settle back into a routine and get used to all my kitchen gadgets and appliances and be convinced that I couldn’t live without them and eventually, I actually thought I needed more. How do we let this happen to us?
There is a place of balance somewhere between the cabin in the woods with no water and the place full of clutter that I now have, and I am going to find it. Wish me luck.
First thing on the agenda today is writing, second is cleaning the patio furniture and putting it away for the season and the third is to head out on the bike trails. MMMM, sounds good to me.
In my last Blog I wrote about contemplating our next move, and the emotional upset it would be. This week I have been faced with another major consequence of eventually moving to a smaller place. Downsizing!! The very thought of it sends chills up and down my spine. Why? You may ask. Because, I am a pack rat!!! Yes, I confess – a pack rat.
I come by it honestly though. My father was the king of pack rats. The absolute, all time King! He couldn’t throw anything away, and he even collected stuff that other people had thrown out in case he might need it some day. Oh the stuff he had in that house. Yikes!
Anyway, back to the present. We have lived in this house for over 20 years, and I am up to my ears in stuff. When my mom died, I moved some of her “stuff” in with my stuff and when John’s mom died we cleaned out her house and – yes – you are right. We now have her “stuff” here too. Groan!
It is so hard to get rid of something someone else has considered a treasure, so I just added it to my treasures and packed it all away. I also have stuff that I am storing for Ladybug who is still in school and stuff I need to give to Butterfly. So, the time has come to unpack all the stuff I have stored in every nook and cranny of this house, look at it and deal with it. Oh dear. What a job.
I am bound and determined to de-clutter my life though, so each day after our bike ride we have been down in the basement or up in the den, sorting through boxes and de-cluttering. So far this week, three or four huge loads have gone to the Goodwill and another one will soon follow. We put out our paper recycling garbage yesterday and the boxes totally lined the curb in front of our house. AC and I went through an old file cabinet and found teaching notes from 30 years ago. Sheesh! We marvelled at how times had changed since he first started teaching. He used to spend hours typing out lesson plans and class handouts, on an old manual typewriter, using ditto paper. The old typewriter would punch out the centre of each “o” on the ditto paper and I would find them all over the place. What a mess. Now everything is done on a computer and Xerox machine. What a difference.
OK, back to the present again. Even though we have cleaned all this stuff out, it doesn’t look like we have gotten rid of anything. I am not kidding. What is going on here? I got an email from my sister this week that helped explain this to me. Let me include part of her note here...
Greetings dear de-clutterer:
I have been on the de-cluttering path for about a year now, so I know what you are going through. The scary thing is that box upon box has gone out yet I'm not seeing empty spaces. I swear stuff breeds more stuff and if you give it any room it just expands to fill the space.
I remember when I worked in Ethiopia, Peter, the nurse I worked with, said that he may be late coming back from lunch because he was moving. I spent the siesta worrying about how I would manage at the clinic by myself. I wasn't ready to solo on treating a tropical illness or removing a spear (the barbs were very tricky as I recall). It turns out my worry was for naught. Peter was back right on time, from noon to 2:00 PM he had moved his wife, four children, 2 goats and all their belongings on foot (and head), he had also squeezed in a tasty lunch and a wee nap to boot. We definitely are drowning in useless stuff here aren't we?……
We are for sure drowning in stuff and I am coming to the conclusion that we don’t own it, but it owns us. Once we have something, we have to dust it, or oil it, or paint it, or clean it, or polish it, or brush it, or feed it, or pack it away or - something. It takes our time and attention in some way and therefore our energy. Do I really want to waste my precious time and energy on all this stuff? No!!! No, I really don’t! I am going to de-clutter and simplify. I am.
I can remember going to my parents' cottage when my girls were young and spending a large part of the summer there. We had no running water and the cottage was just a rough cabin really. We would go into town for our drinking water, and all the other water was taken out of the creek. We washed our hair in a bucket outside using cold creek water and had a wash in a little basin in the kitchen each night. We had no indoor plumbing, so the spider infested outhouse was visited both in early morning rain and late night clouds of bugs. Ohhhh, creepy! We even had mice and other wild things think that they lived in the cabin and we were the intruders! The nerve.
We absolutely loved it there though. I would come home at the end of the summer and feel strange in my house with running water and indoor plumbing. I would long to go back to the cabin in the woods and be free. In time though, I would settle back into a routine and get used to all my kitchen gadgets and appliances and be convinced that I couldn’t live without them and eventually, I actually thought I needed more. How do we let this happen to us?
There is a place of balance somewhere between the cabin in the woods with no water and the place full of clutter that I now have, and I am going to find it. Wish me luck.
Saturday, September 18, 2004
Trapeze
Last year we were offered a piece of rural property at a very reasonable price. That started us thinking seriously about a move to the country now that we are retired and free to go where we want. We have contacted many a real estate agent and put numerous k’s on our car trekking around the land looking at houses in various nooks and crannies of this province. Alas, we haven’t found a perfect spot for us yet. We keep looking each time we travel though and always wonder as we wander, if we will find “the” house this time.
During our last trip away, we did find a house that tempted us to make an offer, but it wasn’t perfect and the price was a tad higher than we wanted to go. It did make us wonder though and seriously think about making an offer on it. What to do? What to do?!
Sleepless nights and hectic days have been my companions for the past little while and have me feeling a bit frazzled these days. The other morning I got up rather bleary eyed after a night of tossing and turning, and puttered down to the kitchen to feed the little furry guy meowing for his tuna. I stumbled around the kitchen mindlessly making coffee and getting the juice and cereal out. My body was in the kitchen, but my mind was on the other side of the province thinking about that house. I stood at the kitchen window and looked at the familiar scene just outside and was instantly brought back to this city and all the history I have here. We have lived here for over 30 years. My children were born and raised here and I have wonderful neighbours and good good friends in this area. Why would I even think of leaving this place?
The smell of fresh brewed coffee woke John up and he came sauntering into the kitchen and stood behind me. “So, what are you thinking about this morning?” he asked. As if he didn’t know. We have both been tossing and turning at night and thinking about nothing else but this house and what we should do.
I told him that I felt like I was on a high-flying trapeze. I had a firm grip on this familiar bar and was swinging through life quite nicely right here and now. I knew the feel of this old trapeze, the weight of it, the height of it, the length of rope holding it, and I was comfortable. The air that I was swinging through was warm and I felt quite safe and confident. I had developed a certain skill and had a good rhythm going. I also knew that my hands were getting weaker and one day I would have to let got of this familiar old trapeze and grab hold of a new one. Maybe a smaller one, a lighter one, a lower one.
The timing has to be right though. I can see this new trapeze flying towards me as I arc in the air and start to move toward it. All sorts of questions spin through my mind as I swing through the air. Is this the time to let go and clasp the new one? Do I have the right height? Is it close enough? Should I take one more swing back before I let go? Back and forth, back and forth I go.
I have been doing this since we were offered the property last year and I still don’t have the courage or strength to let go of the old comfortable well-known bar and grab the new one. It is the letting go of the familiar and the few seconds of terrorizing yet exhilarating free-fall before I clasp the unknown that has my fingers firmly clamped around the old trapeze.
I am reminded of this quote that I have given to many people over the years,
“We must be willing to get rid of the life we’ve planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” Joseph Campbell
Goodness, it is so hard to let go of the known and reach out to the unknown isn’t it? God give me courage and wisdom.
Well, I am swinging along here in this beautiful autumn sunshine and I will continue to work on my courage and hopefully know when the timing is right and have the wisdom and strength to let go of the old and clasp the new when it is time.
In the meantime I will enjoy this well-worn trapeze of my life and maybe head out on my bike to pedal off some stress and clear my head. Life is good. All I really have is today, so I must determine to experience it and not waste it worrying about tomorrow. Enjoy the present, focus on the positive and keep moving forward in joy.
Listen carefully and you might hear my faint humming today “She flies through the air with the greatest of ease, that daring old woman on the flying trapeze!!” Wheee, here I go. Come join me for the ride. It is bound to be a blast!
During our last trip away, we did find a house that tempted us to make an offer, but it wasn’t perfect and the price was a tad higher than we wanted to go. It did make us wonder though and seriously think about making an offer on it. What to do? What to do?!
Sleepless nights and hectic days have been my companions for the past little while and have me feeling a bit frazzled these days. The other morning I got up rather bleary eyed after a night of tossing and turning, and puttered down to the kitchen to feed the little furry guy meowing for his tuna. I stumbled around the kitchen mindlessly making coffee and getting the juice and cereal out. My body was in the kitchen, but my mind was on the other side of the province thinking about that house. I stood at the kitchen window and looked at the familiar scene just outside and was instantly brought back to this city and all the history I have here. We have lived here for over 30 years. My children were born and raised here and I have wonderful neighbours and good good friends in this area. Why would I even think of leaving this place?
The smell of fresh brewed coffee woke John up and he came sauntering into the kitchen and stood behind me. “So, what are you thinking about this morning?” he asked. As if he didn’t know. We have both been tossing and turning at night and thinking about nothing else but this house and what we should do.
I told him that I felt like I was on a high-flying trapeze. I had a firm grip on this familiar bar and was swinging through life quite nicely right here and now. I knew the feel of this old trapeze, the weight of it, the height of it, the length of rope holding it, and I was comfortable. The air that I was swinging through was warm and I felt quite safe and confident. I had developed a certain skill and had a good rhythm going. I also knew that my hands were getting weaker and one day I would have to let got of this familiar old trapeze and grab hold of a new one. Maybe a smaller one, a lighter one, a lower one.
The timing has to be right though. I can see this new trapeze flying towards me as I arc in the air and start to move toward it. All sorts of questions spin through my mind as I swing through the air. Is this the time to let go and clasp the new one? Do I have the right height? Is it close enough? Should I take one more swing back before I let go? Back and forth, back and forth I go.
I have been doing this since we were offered the property last year and I still don’t have the courage or strength to let go of the old comfortable well-known bar and grab the new one. It is the letting go of the familiar and the few seconds of terrorizing yet exhilarating free-fall before I clasp the unknown that has my fingers firmly clamped around the old trapeze.
I am reminded of this quote that I have given to many people over the years,
“We must be willing to get rid of the life we’ve planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” Joseph Campbell
Goodness, it is so hard to let go of the known and reach out to the unknown isn’t it? God give me courage and wisdom.
Well, I am swinging along here in this beautiful autumn sunshine and I will continue to work on my courage and hopefully know when the timing is right and have the wisdom and strength to let go of the old and clasp the new when it is time.
In the meantime I will enjoy this well-worn trapeze of my life and maybe head out on my bike to pedal off some stress and clear my head. Life is good. All I really have is today, so I must determine to experience it and not waste it worrying about tomorrow. Enjoy the present, focus on the positive and keep moving forward in joy.
Listen carefully and you might hear my faint humming today “She flies through the air with the greatest of ease, that daring old woman on the flying trapeze!!” Wheee, here I go. Come join me for the ride. It is bound to be a blast!
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
The Sound of Feathers
Ahh, how nice to be back home and have some free time to write. We were away for 10 days, and things have been a tad busy around here, since we got home, so my time at the computer has be limited.
I am still trying to recuperate from Ally's move too. That on top of all the driving wore me out. To make a long story a bit shorter, let me just say that she moved into a third floor apt with no elevator and everything had to be carried up an outside fire escape type staircase. We had to drive a 16ft cube van in rush hour traffic in a busy downtown area of a major city and then navigate it down narrow laneways to get to the parking lot behind the building. We felt squeezed in just getting the CRV back there the night before the move so we wondered how in the world we would get the tuck in there in the morning. Sure didn’t make for a sound sleep that night let me tell you. I did a lot of tossing and turning and the others seemed restless too.
We got up around 6am rather bleary eyed and fearful but stoically set off to pick up the monster truck. We made a stop for some Tim’s coffee and fortified with that we continued on to face the day. At 7 am, we walked slowly into the rental office and waited our turn for a truck. Two or three people were ahead of us, so we stood quietly and sipped our coffee while we pondered what lay ahead. Finally the man at the counter turned to us and asked.
“And you are…….?????”
Before we could answer with our name, John blurted out the word “Tired!!”
We all burst out laughing and that helped us relax a bit. We signed on the dotted line for the truck and set off on our big adventure. Ally drove our car and John drove the tuck. Good old dad comes to the rescue again.
As we pulled out of the parking lot I breathed a silent prayer to the God of the Universe to help us get there safely and be able to park this monster. Seemed like prayer would be the only thing that could help us manoeuvre this giant in downtown traffic. Help!
After a harrowing drive, in heavy traffic along the main street, we managed to get there in one piece. We even got into the parking lot without too much trouble, but were stupefied as to how to back the truck around all the parked cars there, so we could unpack it. As we stood there looking at the situation, the landlord came over to us and asked us if we wanted him to back the truck in for us. We all fell at his feet and thanked him profusely for his kind offer. He jumped in the cab and manoeuvred the truck as if it were a little sports car and had it in position in no time. He handed us the keys with a smile and wished us a good day as he returned to his work. I think I saw a glint of a halo above his head and heard the rustle of feathers as he walked away from us that day. What a relief to have that task taken off our hands and be able to drive the truck straight out when it came time to return it to the dealer. The best things in life really are free even though they are worth more than words can say.
I hope if you need one, you encounter an angel along your path today, or maybe you can be an angel to someone else. Listen for those feathers, or spread those wings if called upon to do so.
I am still trying to recuperate from Ally's move too. That on top of all the driving wore me out. To make a long story a bit shorter, let me just say that she moved into a third floor apt with no elevator and everything had to be carried up an outside fire escape type staircase. We had to drive a 16ft cube van in rush hour traffic in a busy downtown area of a major city and then navigate it down narrow laneways to get to the parking lot behind the building. We felt squeezed in just getting the CRV back there the night before the move so we wondered how in the world we would get the tuck in there in the morning. Sure didn’t make for a sound sleep that night let me tell you. I did a lot of tossing and turning and the others seemed restless too.
We got up around 6am rather bleary eyed and fearful but stoically set off to pick up the monster truck. We made a stop for some Tim’s coffee and fortified with that we continued on to face the day. At 7 am, we walked slowly into the rental office and waited our turn for a truck. Two or three people were ahead of us, so we stood quietly and sipped our coffee while we pondered what lay ahead. Finally the man at the counter turned to us and asked.
“And you are…….?????”
Before we could answer with our name, John blurted out the word “Tired!!”
We all burst out laughing and that helped us relax a bit. We signed on the dotted line for the truck and set off on our big adventure. Ally drove our car and John drove the tuck. Good old dad comes to the rescue again.
As we pulled out of the parking lot I breathed a silent prayer to the God of the Universe to help us get there safely and be able to park this monster. Seemed like prayer would be the only thing that could help us manoeuvre this giant in downtown traffic. Help!
After a harrowing drive, in heavy traffic along the main street, we managed to get there in one piece. We even got into the parking lot without too much trouble, but were stupefied as to how to back the truck around all the parked cars there, so we could unpack it. As we stood there looking at the situation, the landlord came over to us and asked us if we wanted him to back the truck in for us. We all fell at his feet and thanked him profusely for his kind offer. He jumped in the cab and manoeuvred the truck as if it were a little sports car and had it in position in no time. He handed us the keys with a smile and wished us a good day as he returned to his work. I think I saw a glint of a halo above his head and heard the rustle of feathers as he walked away from us that day. What a relief to have that task taken off our hands and be able to drive the truck straight out when it came time to return it to the dealer. The best things in life really are free even though they are worth more than words can say.
I hope if you need one, you encounter an angel along your path today, or maybe you can be an angel to someone else. Listen for those feathers, or spread those wings if called upon to do so.
Monday, August 30, 2004
Moving and Memories
AC and I are going to help our youngest daughter move to a new little apartment tomorrow and that is a rather scary thing when you think that we both have gimpy backs. Yikes! We are the moving crew????? Hard to believe. At least she is just a poor student and doesn’t have heavy appliances or bulky furniture to be carted around. Just one small apartment of “stuff”, to be moved to another small apartment. Shouldn’t be too bad.
I remember my dad and grandpa coming and helping us move each time we went from student housing to student housing and then to our little townhouse when John got his first teaching job. I don’t know what we would have done without them. We didn’t have two cents to put together and they gave freely of their time and energy to help us. They came with their gimpy backs and sore legs and drove the truck and then carried what they could. They lifted our hearts and spirits right along with the boxes and bookcases. Love enables us to do many things, and love will help us move our daughter into her new little place tomorrow. Hopefully we will make many happy memories for her to look back on in years to come and they will warm her heart like the memories of my dad and grandpa helping us, are warming mine today.
We will be gone for a few days so I won’t be doing much writing or posting blogs in the next little while. Come visit me again in mid- September and I will tell you how the move went.
Talk to you all later.
I remember my dad and grandpa coming and helping us move each time we went from student housing to student housing and then to our little townhouse when John got his first teaching job. I don’t know what we would have done without them. We didn’t have two cents to put together and they gave freely of their time and energy to help us. They came with their gimpy backs and sore legs and drove the truck and then carried what they could. They lifted our hearts and spirits right along with the boxes and bookcases. Love enables us to do many things, and love will help us move our daughter into her new little place tomorrow. Hopefully we will make many happy memories for her to look back on in years to come and they will warm her heart like the memories of my dad and grandpa helping us, are warming mine today.
We will be gone for a few days so I won’t be doing much writing or posting blogs in the next little while. Come visit me again in mid- September and I will tell you how the move went.
Talk to you all later.
Monday, August 23, 2004
“Living with the IS not the SHOULD BE”
I read this phrase in a book the other night and the essence of the statement resonated with truth deep in my being.
We need to accept the IS in our lives, and not let regrets or anger about the SHOULD BE situations paralyse us and cause us to waste one more day on regrets.
I don't know what your should's sound like but whatever they are -
This person shouldn’t have died.
I shouldn’t be sick.
That person shouldn’t have left me.
I should have gotten that promotion
My child should be doing this with her life, not that.
Wishing and hoping and complaining will not change one thing. We need to look at the IS, change what we can, then leave the rest and move forward into the next minute of our lives. Tell yourself the truth and move forward.
As I mentioned in one of my previous blogs, I have been reading the JOY DIET by Martha Beck, and it is slow going, but well worth the effort. I am still trying to master the first “step” of this diet though, and that is to do nothing for 15 minutes each day. Have you any idea how hard that is? Try it. Wipe your mind blank and do nothing. It is really difficult.
Anyway, reading this book lead me to look into some methods of meditation and relaxation. In my search for a way to clear my mind and be quiet, so I could hear that still small voice of God over the roar of my busy life, I found one powerful phase that has helped me immensely, not only in meditating but in my life.
With each breath I take, I can start over again.
Wow, each breath gives me a fresh new start at life, creativity, forgiveness, service, – whatever I desire to do with my life. Each breath gives me a chance to start all over again and begin anew with my hopes, dreams, and passions. It is never to late to become what I might have been and the best time to start is right now, right here. Not wait until I am where I hope to be, or all the should’s are in place, but where I am right now, smack dab in the middle of all the is’s.
Ok, try it with me. Draw the air deep into your lungs and take a fresh new step into the rest of your life. Oh oh, after 10 inhalations you failed to move in a direction you wanted to? Take another breath and start all over again. Each breath is a new beginning, and a chance to start again. Don’t waste even one on regret.
Ready, set – GO!
We need to accept the IS in our lives, and not let regrets or anger about the SHOULD BE situations paralyse us and cause us to waste one more day on regrets.
I don't know what your should's sound like but whatever they are -
This person shouldn’t have died.
I shouldn’t be sick.
That person shouldn’t have left me.
I should have gotten that promotion
My child should be doing this with her life, not that.
Wishing and hoping and complaining will not change one thing. We need to look at the IS, change what we can, then leave the rest and move forward into the next minute of our lives. Tell yourself the truth and move forward.
As I mentioned in one of my previous blogs, I have been reading the JOY DIET by Martha Beck, and it is slow going, but well worth the effort. I am still trying to master the first “step” of this diet though, and that is to do nothing for 15 minutes each day. Have you any idea how hard that is? Try it. Wipe your mind blank and do nothing. It is really difficult.
Anyway, reading this book lead me to look into some methods of meditation and relaxation. In my search for a way to clear my mind and be quiet, so I could hear that still small voice of God over the roar of my busy life, I found one powerful phase that has helped me immensely, not only in meditating but in my life.
With each breath I take, I can start over again.
Wow, each breath gives me a fresh new start at life, creativity, forgiveness, service, – whatever I desire to do with my life. Each breath gives me a chance to start all over again and begin anew with my hopes, dreams, and passions. It is never to late to become what I might have been and the best time to start is right now, right here. Not wait until I am where I hope to be, or all the should’s are in place, but where I am right now, smack dab in the middle of all the is’s.
Ok, try it with me. Draw the air deep into your lungs and take a fresh new step into the rest of your life. Oh oh, after 10 inhalations you failed to move in a direction you wanted to? Take another breath and start all over again. Each breath is a new beginning, and a chance to start again. Don’t waste even one on regret.
Ready, set – GO!
Saturday, August 21, 2004
Heart Sunshine
I awoke early this morning and rolled out of bed to catch the magic of those quiet moments before the day really begins. As I sit here and write now, the house is quiet and cool – just the way I like it, and the world seemes fresh and bright and peaceful. A brand new day, with no mistakes in it, spreads out before me and I wonder what life will write on this crisp clean page for me today.
I love this time in the morning when the rest of the world seems to be asleep and I am alone to greet the day in this calm thoughtful way. I can hear birds talking to the morning outside, and the wind is playing a game of “catch me if you can” with the wind chimes hanging on the back deck, but these sounds belong and fit into the quiet early morning symphony all around me. Such sweet music.
When I padded down to the kitchen, in my bare feet, to make coffee and feed the cat this morning, I was surprised to learn that it was actually too cold for bare feet, and I could have used a housecoat too. Brrr. The sun is shining now, but the air is cool and has the touch of autumn in it. Where has the summer gone?
We had company over for afternoon tea on the back deck yesterday and although the weatherman called for sunshine with a few cloudy periods, we had total cloud and a pesky raindrop or two. Drat! We huddled closer together under the “sun” umbrella and refused to move our party inside though. We drank hot tea, out of fine china teacups, and that warmed us up, even if the sun wouldn’t make an appearance to do so. We looked at wedding pictures and talked about vacations, families and plans for the fall. The warm circle of friendship lit up the dull, dreary weather conditions and we happily made our own sunshine under the sun umbrella and basked in the warmth of it. Good friends do that don’t they? Brighten any situation, and warm our hearts. They make the hard times easier to bear and the good times even better.
Why don't you call a friend and generate some heart sunshine of you own today!! It is good for what ails you, and you won't even need sunscreen. Shine on!
I love this time in the morning when the rest of the world seems to be asleep and I am alone to greet the day in this calm thoughtful way. I can hear birds talking to the morning outside, and the wind is playing a game of “catch me if you can” with the wind chimes hanging on the back deck, but these sounds belong and fit into the quiet early morning symphony all around me. Such sweet music.
When I padded down to the kitchen, in my bare feet, to make coffee and feed the cat this morning, I was surprised to learn that it was actually too cold for bare feet, and I could have used a housecoat too. Brrr. The sun is shining now, but the air is cool and has the touch of autumn in it. Where has the summer gone?
We had company over for afternoon tea on the back deck yesterday and although the weatherman called for sunshine with a few cloudy periods, we had total cloud and a pesky raindrop or two. Drat! We huddled closer together under the “sun” umbrella and refused to move our party inside though. We drank hot tea, out of fine china teacups, and that warmed us up, even if the sun wouldn’t make an appearance to do so. We looked at wedding pictures and talked about vacations, families and plans for the fall. The warm circle of friendship lit up the dull, dreary weather conditions and we happily made our own sunshine under the sun umbrella and basked in the warmth of it. Good friends do that don’t they? Brighten any situation, and warm our hearts. They make the hard times easier to bear and the good times even better.
Why don't you call a friend and generate some heart sunshine of you own today!! It is good for what ails you, and you won't even need sunscreen. Shine on!
Saturday, August 07, 2004
Pedalling into the wind.
Yesterday we went for a 50k bike ride and at times we were pedalling into gale force winds. What a slog those parts of the trip were. The wind was coming off the lake, so every time we took a turn and headed in that direction we were almost blown over. When that happened, we had to put the bikes into low gear and just keep our legs moving. Slowly but surely, keep those old legs moving, up down, up down. Before long we were at the next turn and got some relief from the stormy blast.
In spite of fighting against the wind all day, we had a fabulous ride. The air was cool, the sunshine warm, and the sky a crisp bright blue overhead. Absolutely beautiful! One section of the trail took us down tree-lined paths along to the wetlands, where we stopped to take pictures of the ducks and swans out on the water. This is a quiet spot, tucked away and protected from the winds off the lake. We enjoyed our, time out, from the wind there and were able to relax our muscles a bit as we pedalled along.
I have vivid memories of driving out to this park the day before I was due to get the results of my biopsy last fall. I needed to drink in the peace and calm of the place and let it wash over the turmoil in my heart. At that time the trees were in their full glorious autumn dresses, and the geese and ducks flocked around them like jewels adorning party outfits. It was a wonderful picture of nature calmly facing the changing of the seasons and preparing for the harsh winter ahead.
Questions were racing around in my head as I watched them that day. What did I have to prepare for? What kind of a winter would I be facing? Would surgery, chemo and radiation be on the agenda? I needed something to help me deal with the fear of what I might hear the next day. The peace and calm of that place did minister to my soul, and helped me quiet the inner storm. Mother Nature does have gifts to give us if we will only open our eyes and look for them. All these memories come back to me each time I go to that park now and I am so thankful for each day I am given to enjoy the great outdoors.
Ok, back to our trip yesterday. After we left the wetlands, we pedalled another 10k’s over to the lake, and had a picnic lunch on the beach there. It tasted like a feast fit for a king after our long ride. Sooooo good - peanut butter and honey on a pita, sweet crisp apples munched along with chunks of cheddar cheese, and then we finished off with a handful or two of trail mix loaded with nuts and raisins. MMMMMM delicious. It was so windy by the water we had to put on our squall jackets, but they did the trick of blocking the wind perfectly and we were quite comfortable while we munched and crunched our lunch.
After lunch, we set off for the trip back home. We had to fight the cross winds for a lot of that journey too, but they weren’t as fierce as the winds we faced when we were pedalling out towards the lake. I am glad we didn’t give up and turn around to go back home when we discovered how strong the winds were yesterday. The waves rolling and crashing on the lake were magnificent and the picnic lunch was such a treat at the end of that hard ride. Worth every hard pedal into the wind and more.
As I pedalled along, I thought about life and how it seems like such a slog some days when we are faced with gale force winds of adversity. It is hard to keep pedalling and not give up. It would be so much easier to stop, turn around and not push forward. Oh how much we miss when we do that though. Sometimes we have to stop and rest to regain our strength, and catch our breath, but then we have to get back up on our feet and keep pushing forward. Stopping and resting is not bad, it is the staying stopped or turning around and going back that robs us of the joy waiting for us at the end of the tough journey. The key is to know when to be kind and gentle with yourself and take the break you need, and when to be tough and make yourself keep pushing that pedal.
I wish you both wisdom and strength for your journey today.
In spite of fighting against the wind all day, we had a fabulous ride. The air was cool, the sunshine warm, and the sky a crisp bright blue overhead. Absolutely beautiful! One section of the trail took us down tree-lined paths along to the wetlands, where we stopped to take pictures of the ducks and swans out on the water. This is a quiet spot, tucked away and protected from the winds off the lake. We enjoyed our, time out, from the wind there and were able to relax our muscles a bit as we pedalled along.
I have vivid memories of driving out to this park the day before I was due to get the results of my biopsy last fall. I needed to drink in the peace and calm of the place and let it wash over the turmoil in my heart. At that time the trees were in their full glorious autumn dresses, and the geese and ducks flocked around them like jewels adorning party outfits. It was a wonderful picture of nature calmly facing the changing of the seasons and preparing for the harsh winter ahead.
Questions were racing around in my head as I watched them that day. What did I have to prepare for? What kind of a winter would I be facing? Would surgery, chemo and radiation be on the agenda? I needed something to help me deal with the fear of what I might hear the next day. The peace and calm of that place did minister to my soul, and helped me quiet the inner storm. Mother Nature does have gifts to give us if we will only open our eyes and look for them. All these memories come back to me each time I go to that park now and I am so thankful for each day I am given to enjoy the great outdoors.
Ok, back to our trip yesterday. After we left the wetlands, we pedalled another 10k’s over to the lake, and had a picnic lunch on the beach there. It tasted like a feast fit for a king after our long ride. Sooooo good - peanut butter and honey on a pita, sweet crisp apples munched along with chunks of cheddar cheese, and then we finished off with a handful or two of trail mix loaded with nuts and raisins. MMMMMM delicious. It was so windy by the water we had to put on our squall jackets, but they did the trick of blocking the wind perfectly and we were quite comfortable while we munched and crunched our lunch.
After lunch, we set off for the trip back home. We had to fight the cross winds for a lot of that journey too, but they weren’t as fierce as the winds we faced when we were pedalling out towards the lake. I am glad we didn’t give up and turn around to go back home when we discovered how strong the winds were yesterday. The waves rolling and crashing on the lake were magnificent and the picnic lunch was such a treat at the end of that hard ride. Worth every hard pedal into the wind and more.
As I pedalled along, I thought about life and how it seems like such a slog some days when we are faced with gale force winds of adversity. It is hard to keep pedalling and not give up. It would be so much easier to stop, turn around and not push forward. Oh how much we miss when we do that though. Sometimes we have to stop and rest to regain our strength, and catch our breath, but then we have to get back up on our feet and keep pushing forward. Stopping and resting is not bad, it is the staying stopped or turning around and going back that robs us of the joy waiting for us at the end of the tough journey. The key is to know when to be kind and gentle with yourself and take the break you need, and when to be tough and make yourself keep pushing that pedal.
I wish you both wisdom and strength for your journey today.
Friday, August 06, 2004
Bare Feet and Monsters
It sure has been a topsy-turvy spring and summer as far as weather is concerned this year. It is cold and rainy one minute and hot and humid the next. Can’t quite seem to make up its mind what it wants to do.
Today is cool and windy, but just a few days ago we had a humidex reading of 37 in the afternoon and we could hardly breathe, it was so hot. We have central air in our old house, but not the greatest insulation, so when the sun beats against the south side of our roof all afternoon, the upstairs bedrooms become quite warm by bedtime. I have fans blowing in the hall to help move the warm air down and bring the cooler air up from the basement, but some days it is just a losing battle. Yesterday was one of those days.
I headed up to bed around 11pm and tried to think cool thoughts as I prepared for bed. Well, any port in a storm right? It was rather toasty in the bedroom I must say, and I needed all the help I could get to cool off so I could sleep. Cool thoughts couldn’t hurt and they just might help!!
I pulled the top sheet down to the bottom of the bed and left it there ready to pull up in the night if I needed it. I could do without it for a while, that was for sure. I crawled in, or should I say on, and sprawled out.
I lay there in the dark room and listened to the fan oscillating back and forth, and I soon started to cool down. Ahhhh, sweet relief. I still didn’t need the top sheet, but I pulled it up over my feet anyway, and was able to eventually drift off to dreamland.
For a few seconds before I pulled up the sheet I was reminded of times in my childhood when I couldn’t let my foot rest outside the blankets because I thought a monster might reach up from under my bed and grab it. If I had all my appendages hidden under the sheets, I was safe from harm and could sleep. I had to have my hands tucked under the pillow and feet inside the blankets. Monsters couldn’t get through blankets or under pillows after all. Everyone knows that, right?
Now, I am no spring chicken. I am on the downward side of my 50’s, sliding fast into my 60’s, and last night I had that same feeling I had when I was a little girl. I had to tuck my feet under the sheet to feel secure or comfortable enough to roll over and go to sleep. I tried to tell my self that it was silly, and it was still too hot to need the sheet, but I couldn’t rest until I had my feet covered and my hands tucked under the pillow. We are strange beings aren’t we?
There is still a big kid in all of us, no matter how old we get. So, go get your blanky , tuck your feet snuggly under it and take an afternoon nap today!! Enjoy. I sure do.
Today is cool and windy, but just a few days ago we had a humidex reading of 37 in the afternoon and we could hardly breathe, it was so hot. We have central air in our old house, but not the greatest insulation, so when the sun beats against the south side of our roof all afternoon, the upstairs bedrooms become quite warm by bedtime. I have fans blowing in the hall to help move the warm air down and bring the cooler air up from the basement, but some days it is just a losing battle. Yesterday was one of those days.
I headed up to bed around 11pm and tried to think cool thoughts as I prepared for bed. Well, any port in a storm right? It was rather toasty in the bedroom I must say, and I needed all the help I could get to cool off so I could sleep. Cool thoughts couldn’t hurt and they just might help!!
I pulled the top sheet down to the bottom of the bed and left it there ready to pull up in the night if I needed it. I could do without it for a while, that was for sure. I crawled in, or should I say on, and sprawled out.
I lay there in the dark room and listened to the fan oscillating back and forth, and I soon started to cool down. Ahhhh, sweet relief. I still didn’t need the top sheet, but I pulled it up over my feet anyway, and was able to eventually drift off to dreamland.
For a few seconds before I pulled up the sheet I was reminded of times in my childhood when I couldn’t let my foot rest outside the blankets because I thought a monster might reach up from under my bed and grab it. If I had all my appendages hidden under the sheets, I was safe from harm and could sleep. I had to have my hands tucked under the pillow and feet inside the blankets. Monsters couldn’t get through blankets or under pillows after all. Everyone knows that, right?
Now, I am no spring chicken. I am on the downward side of my 50’s, sliding fast into my 60’s, and last night I had that same feeling I had when I was a little girl. I had to tuck my feet under the sheet to feel secure or comfortable enough to roll over and go to sleep. I tried to tell my self that it was silly, and it was still too hot to need the sheet, but I couldn’t rest until I had my feet covered and my hands tucked under the pillow. We are strange beings aren’t we?
There is still a big kid in all of us, no matter how old we get. So, go get your blanky , tuck your feet snuggly under it and take an afternoon nap today!! Enjoy. I sure do.
Thursday, August 05, 2004
From a distance…
Well, the long weekend is behind me, and I am now moving full speed ahead into lazy, hazy, crazy August. I am not quite sure where July went, but it is in the history books now and August is in full swing. Hard to believe it is already the 5th and I am just getting around to my first entry for the month. Who put the world into the fast forward mode anyway? It is almost impossible to sit and write when your world is spinning faster than the speed of light!! Oh well, I will try to find a quiet spot in the middle of the vortex this morning and post something.
We had such a busy but fun time on the weekend that I think it will take me a week to catch up on my sleep. I seem to have the hazy and crazy part of summer down pat, but I am missing the lazy phase this year.
The kids arrived late Friday night and they brought lots of laughter with them. As usual, the phone rang off the hook while they were here, and the house was a hive of activity. We went non-stop, from early in the morning till late at night each day, and had so much fun.
When every one was here for the BBQ on Sunday, I went to the back of the yard and sat on the garden swing, for a little while and just enjoyed the sound of laughter and chatter coming across the yard to me. All of the activity was on the deck by the house, so the garden swing gave me a nice, removed vantage point to observe the party from. I find it pleasant to sit apart from a crowd like that and look back on it, and listen to the sounds from a distance. Have you ever done that? It gives an added dimension to any gathering, and provides the perfect makings for a wonderful vivid memory. It is almost like focusing a special camera and taking a mental snapshot of the event. All the sights and sounds make a lasting impression when you do this.
At my nephew’s wedding last year I made a point of leaving the tent where all the dancing and partying was going on and I walked down the farm lane to the road and then looked back on the scene. The night was dark, the air cool and the tent looked like an illusion, all lit up in the night. The sound of music mingled with the songs of the crickets and frogs and it was quite a combination. I can see it all and hear it clearly again as I sit here writing about it today. I had to step away from the centre of the party to see it like that though.
I did the same thing at Sha’s wedding this year. I made a point of going outside and looking back at the tent from a distance. I stood quietly and tried to listen to the night sounds of nature all around me; feel the temperature of the air and the dampness in the grass; see the stars in the sky and the dark shadows of the trees on the lawn; and breathe in the sweet perfume released from the plants in the cool of the evening. All these sights, fragrances and feelings, mingling with the muffled laughter and music coming from the tent made for a magic moment that is vividly etched in my memory now.
Try it the next time you are at a function you want to capture in your memory, or any moment that you want to freeze in time. Make the effort to step away from it, and look at the total picture. Feel it, smell it, taste it, listen to it.
I try to go out of my way to do this whenever I am in a crowd of people. If I can’t remove myself physically to a different location, then I just do it mentally and try to look at the situation as an outsider instead of a participant. For example: sometimes when I am in a movie theatre I take my eyes off the screen and look around me at the faces of the people in the darkened theatre with me. It is surreal to see the light flickering on their faces, while all eyes are intently watching the movie. I see hands moving automatically to mouths with offerings of popcorn or chocolate, all the while, their eyes are fixed intently on the screen. We are all seated together in this big room, but we are each in our own private worlds. Much like life. We are all in it together, but rarely look around to see, really see, each other.
Things often take on a different look and feel when viewed from a distance don’t they? We can also use this “looking at things from a distance” action to help us see an upsetting situation in a different light and get a clearer picture of it.
Go ahead. Try it. Whatever you encounter in your life, step away from it and try to view it from a distance to get a glimpse of the whole picture. Observe it objectively and see how it looks from that angle. If it is a happy event, this locks it in your memory like nothing else can, and if it is an upsetting situation; this just might help you find a solution or a way to cope until you do find a solution.
We had such a busy but fun time on the weekend that I think it will take me a week to catch up on my sleep. I seem to have the hazy and crazy part of summer down pat, but I am missing the lazy phase this year.
The kids arrived late Friday night and they brought lots of laughter with them. As usual, the phone rang off the hook while they were here, and the house was a hive of activity. We went non-stop, from early in the morning till late at night each day, and had so much fun.
When every one was here for the BBQ on Sunday, I went to the back of the yard and sat on the garden swing, for a little while and just enjoyed the sound of laughter and chatter coming across the yard to me. All of the activity was on the deck by the house, so the garden swing gave me a nice, removed vantage point to observe the party from. I find it pleasant to sit apart from a crowd like that and look back on it, and listen to the sounds from a distance. Have you ever done that? It gives an added dimension to any gathering, and provides the perfect makings for a wonderful vivid memory. It is almost like focusing a special camera and taking a mental snapshot of the event. All the sights and sounds make a lasting impression when you do this.
At my nephew’s wedding last year I made a point of leaving the tent where all the dancing and partying was going on and I walked down the farm lane to the road and then looked back on the scene. The night was dark, the air cool and the tent looked like an illusion, all lit up in the night. The sound of music mingled with the songs of the crickets and frogs and it was quite a combination. I can see it all and hear it clearly again as I sit here writing about it today. I had to step away from the centre of the party to see it like that though.
I did the same thing at Sha’s wedding this year. I made a point of going outside and looking back at the tent from a distance. I stood quietly and tried to listen to the night sounds of nature all around me; feel the temperature of the air and the dampness in the grass; see the stars in the sky and the dark shadows of the trees on the lawn; and breathe in the sweet perfume released from the plants in the cool of the evening. All these sights, fragrances and feelings, mingling with the muffled laughter and music coming from the tent made for a magic moment that is vividly etched in my memory now.
Try it the next time you are at a function you want to capture in your memory, or any moment that you want to freeze in time. Make the effort to step away from it, and look at the total picture. Feel it, smell it, taste it, listen to it.
I try to go out of my way to do this whenever I am in a crowd of people. If I can’t remove myself physically to a different location, then I just do it mentally and try to look at the situation as an outsider instead of a participant. For example: sometimes when I am in a movie theatre I take my eyes off the screen and look around me at the faces of the people in the darkened theatre with me. It is surreal to see the light flickering on their faces, while all eyes are intently watching the movie. I see hands moving automatically to mouths with offerings of popcorn or chocolate, all the while, their eyes are fixed intently on the screen. We are all seated together in this big room, but we are each in our own private worlds. Much like life. We are all in it together, but rarely look around to see, really see, each other.
Things often take on a different look and feel when viewed from a distance don’t they? We can also use this “looking at things from a distance” action to help us see an upsetting situation in a different light and get a clearer picture of it.
Go ahead. Try it. Whatever you encounter in your life, step away from it and try to view it from a distance to get a glimpse of the whole picture. Observe it objectively and see how it looks from that angle. If it is a happy event, this locks it in your memory like nothing else can, and if it is an upsetting situation; this just might help you find a solution or a way to cope until you do find a solution.
Tuesday, July 27, 2004
Buckets full of memories
We woke up to the sound of rain falling outside this morning, so I am taking time to relax over my second cup of coffee and get caught up on some writing. What a treat after all the busy days we have had.
As I sit here with my laptop on my laptop, I can hear the rain pitting and patting into the eaves just outside my studio window and it is such a soothing sound. The garden needs a drink and my body probably needs a day of rest from the bike, so I will enjoy this gift of a free day.
John went to the garden centre yesterday and ordered 4yards of mulch to be delivered this morning. We had planned on a full day of gardening, but because of the rain, we put off delivery of the mulch until tomorrow. Now I can really enjoy that second cup of coffee and relax. Let it pour. Let it pour. Let it pour!
I wonder where my imagination will take me this morning as I sit here and write? Let me see….
I was walking through a store the other day and a display of bright yellow plastic buckets and shiny red shovels caught my eye. I was drawn to the display and I reached out to touch one of the buckets. Instantly I was taken back to many childhood days spent playing at the beach. We lived near one of the great lakes when I was growing up, so I enjoyed a few sunny afternoons down by the water during my summers in the city. We had to drive or take a bus there, so we didn’t get to go everyday, but my dad would often herd us kids together and take us all to the beach for the afternoon so mom could have a quiet break at home. I loved those times with my dad. They were such a break in our normal routine, and now those trips are what stand out in my memory, a priceless treasure, each one.
My grandparents owned a cottage on a smaller lake up north of the city, and once every summer, the family would pile into the old station wagon and go to that cottage for a week. These trips also come back to me, in full living colour now, when I think of sandy beaches and summer holidays. What fun it was to be so close to the water that we could just walk there from the cottage, and run back and forth to it all day long.
We would each get a new colouring book and fresh box of crayons to keep us quiet on the car trip up to the cottage; a new floating toy for the water; a new bucket and shovel or other sand toys to play with at the beach; and a new book or two to read at night or on a rainy afternoon. We were spoiled indeed.
All those memories came flooding back to me when I caught sight of those buckets displayed in the grocery store the other day. I walked from the buckets and shovels over to another display table piled high with net bags full of assorted sand toys. This collection had a bigger bucket, two shovels and numerous moulds in the shape of starfish, whales, clams, crabs, lobsters, and other sea creatures. Oh the joys of owning the super deluxe set like that. We were really living high on the hog when we got one of those instead of just a new bucket and shovel.
Now, I, a woman in my late 50’s, stood in the store that day and actually thought of buying a set of sand toys for myself, just because of all the happy memories attached to it. I really did. I resisted the urge to purchase it, and left the store with just my groceries in hand, but I held a priceless treasure in my heart – the feeling of all those sunny summer days at the beach. What a bargain I walked out of the store with that day.
The best things in life really are free.
As I sit here with my laptop on my laptop, I can hear the rain pitting and patting into the eaves just outside my studio window and it is such a soothing sound. The garden needs a drink and my body probably needs a day of rest from the bike, so I will enjoy this gift of a free day.
John went to the garden centre yesterday and ordered 4yards of mulch to be delivered this morning. We had planned on a full day of gardening, but because of the rain, we put off delivery of the mulch until tomorrow. Now I can really enjoy that second cup of coffee and relax. Let it pour. Let it pour. Let it pour!
I wonder where my imagination will take me this morning as I sit here and write? Let me see….
I was walking through a store the other day and a display of bright yellow plastic buckets and shiny red shovels caught my eye. I was drawn to the display and I reached out to touch one of the buckets. Instantly I was taken back to many childhood days spent playing at the beach. We lived near one of the great lakes when I was growing up, so I enjoyed a few sunny afternoons down by the water during my summers in the city. We had to drive or take a bus there, so we didn’t get to go everyday, but my dad would often herd us kids together and take us all to the beach for the afternoon so mom could have a quiet break at home. I loved those times with my dad. They were such a break in our normal routine, and now those trips are what stand out in my memory, a priceless treasure, each one.
My grandparents owned a cottage on a smaller lake up north of the city, and once every summer, the family would pile into the old station wagon and go to that cottage for a week. These trips also come back to me, in full living colour now, when I think of sandy beaches and summer holidays. What fun it was to be so close to the water that we could just walk there from the cottage, and run back and forth to it all day long.
We would each get a new colouring book and fresh box of crayons to keep us quiet on the car trip up to the cottage; a new floating toy for the water; a new bucket and shovel or other sand toys to play with at the beach; and a new book or two to read at night or on a rainy afternoon. We were spoiled indeed.
All those memories came flooding back to me when I caught sight of those buckets displayed in the grocery store the other day. I walked from the buckets and shovels over to another display table piled high with net bags full of assorted sand toys. This collection had a bigger bucket, two shovels and numerous moulds in the shape of starfish, whales, clams, crabs, lobsters, and other sea creatures. Oh the joys of owning the super deluxe set like that. We were really living high on the hog when we got one of those instead of just a new bucket and shovel.
Now, I, a woman in my late 50’s, stood in the store that day and actually thought of buying a set of sand toys for myself, just because of all the happy memories attached to it. I really did. I resisted the urge to purchase it, and left the store with just my groceries in hand, but I held a priceless treasure in my heart – the feeling of all those sunny summer days at the beach. What a bargain I walked out of the store with that day.
The best things in life really are free.
Monday, July 26, 2004
Trash and Treasure
The weather was cool and cloudy today, but still very windy. We had a nice afternoon out on the bikes, but it was tough slugging against the wind, so we didn’t go for a marathon ride. It seemed like we were peddling into the wind both ways too. How can that be? Maybe it was a cross breeze. At any rate, it was hard work, but we did it. I am now relaxing and John is making dinner. Yahoo.
We went to the bike store (about a 15k ride there and back) to look for bike shorts, and a holder for the GPS. We found nice shorts, but no luck with the holder for the GPS.
We have a Magellan Sport GPS that we use in the car all the time, and also up north when we go out hiking in the woods. I thought it would be nice to use it out on the biking trails too, so I went to Radio Shack to see if they could order a handle bar mount for it. They said they could, but it would take a month to come in, and it would cost $68 – before taxes!!! Yikes! 'No thank you.' I said emphatically 'I will figure something else out.' Then I set to work to do just that.
I went to the bike store to see if they could help me. I explained to the owner what I was looking for, but he didn’t have anything suitable. I wondered out loud if I could make a holder for something else do, so he went through his scrap box of things I might use to make one. He gave me an old lock mount, a reflector mount, some screws, and some rubber shims. I came home all set to do some creating. I already had some pieces of Velcro and flat nylon cored, so I put my hands and brain to the task of creating. What fun.
I had to take the lock holder apart and remove a piece of plastic, but after I did that, it was easy to attach a sturdy, short piece of Velcro to it. I then sewed another longer piece of Velcro to the shorter piece and wrapped the longer piece around the GPS. Perfect. It took we awhile to figure out how to get the holder to firmly grip the handle-bar, but after experimenting with different configurations of the rubber shims, I finally found the right combination and it worked perfectly to do that job.
The GPS now sits securely on my handle-bar, but it is easy to remove too. I can see how fast I am peddling, what direction I am going in, how many k’s I have gone, what time it is, and all sorts of other interesting information as I ride along. I found it interesting to learn, that today I hit speeds up to 19kph at my fastest, but usually ride around 12-15kph. Not bad for this old gal!!!
Anyway, I made the perfect holder for the GPS and it didn’t cost me a cent. How neat is that? I love it when I can make something useful, out of scraps of this and that, and other useless items. Don’t you?
I can’t wait to go back to the bike shop on Wednesday and show them how I put the scraps they gave me to good use. It is fun to make something out of nothing, but it is even more fun to share it with someone else. Joy is always doubled when you share it. Grief or sorrow is halved when shared, but joy is doubled.
I hope you all had a good day too, and made something to treasure even if it was just a happy memory to brighten any future dark day.
Share your joy and double your pleasure.
We went to the bike store (about a 15k ride there and back) to look for bike shorts, and a holder for the GPS. We found nice shorts, but no luck with the holder for the GPS.
We have a Magellan Sport GPS that we use in the car all the time, and also up north when we go out hiking in the woods. I thought it would be nice to use it out on the biking trails too, so I went to Radio Shack to see if they could order a handle bar mount for it. They said they could, but it would take a month to come in, and it would cost $68 – before taxes!!! Yikes! 'No thank you.' I said emphatically 'I will figure something else out.' Then I set to work to do just that.
I went to the bike store to see if they could help me. I explained to the owner what I was looking for, but he didn’t have anything suitable. I wondered out loud if I could make a holder for something else do, so he went through his scrap box of things I might use to make one. He gave me an old lock mount, a reflector mount, some screws, and some rubber shims. I came home all set to do some creating. I already had some pieces of Velcro and flat nylon cored, so I put my hands and brain to the task of creating. What fun.
I had to take the lock holder apart and remove a piece of plastic, but after I did that, it was easy to attach a sturdy, short piece of Velcro to it. I then sewed another longer piece of Velcro to the shorter piece and wrapped the longer piece around the GPS. Perfect. It took we awhile to figure out how to get the holder to firmly grip the handle-bar, but after experimenting with different configurations of the rubber shims, I finally found the right combination and it worked perfectly to do that job.
The GPS now sits securely on my handle-bar, but it is easy to remove too. I can see how fast I am peddling, what direction I am going in, how many k’s I have gone, what time it is, and all sorts of other interesting information as I ride along. I found it interesting to learn, that today I hit speeds up to 19kph at my fastest, but usually ride around 12-15kph. Not bad for this old gal!!!
Anyway, I made the perfect holder for the GPS and it didn’t cost me a cent. How neat is that? I love it when I can make something useful, out of scraps of this and that, and other useless items. Don’t you?
I can’t wait to go back to the bike shop on Wednesday and show them how I put the scraps they gave me to good use. It is fun to make something out of nothing, but it is even more fun to share it with someone else. Joy is always doubled when you share it. Grief or sorrow is halved when shared, but joy is doubled.
I hope you all had a good day too, and made something to treasure even if it was just a happy memory to brighten any future dark day.
Share your joy and double your pleasure.
Saturday, July 24, 2004
Celebrate Life
We were all set to go biking first thing this morning. The sky was clear and bright and the temperature was perfect - cool with no humidity. We had one small problem though – GALE FORCE WINDS! Yikes!
My muscles are getting stronger, but I didn’t think I could handle peddling into that wind for very long, so we decided to spend a lazy morning at home and linger over a second cup of coffee while we caught up on some email. I even did a bit of housework and we made plans to head out on our bikes right after lunch.
No such luck. The winds seemed to be picking up in strength not dying down, so we did some gardening, cut the grass, and then I picked up a book. Maybe things would calm down after dinner and we could try an evening ride down to the waterfront. In the meantime, I made a cup of tea and settled in for an afternoon of reading.
Well, it is almost 7pm and it still sounds ferocious out there. So no biking tonight. Maybe just a walk around the block will have to do for today. Tomorrow is another day. After our walk we can make some popcorn and watch a movie. MMMM, that sounds good to me too.
I missed the bike ride today, but the day wasn’t a total loss. The book I picked up, “Losing My Mind” by Thomas DeBaggio, was riveting, and I finished it in one sitting. It is a book dealing with Alzheimer’s, but chock full of truths and lessons we can all take to heart to help us through a difficult time.
Tom is a writer and was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s in his 57th year. The book tells of his struggles when he first got the diagnosis and then his decision to write this book detailing his trip into this darkness called Alzheimer’s. Tom paints a vivid picture of what it is like on the inside looking out and seeing your memories slip away. Riveting, absolutely riveting.
Let me give you a few quotes from this most amazing book, just to give you a taste of it and maybe send you scurrying to your local bookstore or library to get your own copy.
“Here I am at the moment of truth and all I can muster are hot screams and scribbled graffiti torn from my soul. Moments of slithering memory now define my life.”
As a writer, I felt his pain when he talked about feeling his ability to write start to slip away.
“I sit at my worktable, a still world around me, and stare at the wall, empty of decoration. I become lost in the vocabulary of silence. Thoughts squiggle and writhe into sentences that disappear before they can be acknowledged.”
“I bleed emotions every hour and play with a tricky shifting alphabet of stumbling words. I have just spent five minutes struggling to spell the word “hour”.
“Almost every minute of the day is destroyed by the struggle to reclaim lost words in my search to communicate. It is a losing battle, but I will sing until no word is left. Alzheimer’s is making me mute.”
Because this is a book about Alzheimer’s it deals in depth with the loss of memory, but it also talks about, facing death and how to live your life to the fullest in the meantime.
I have a person who is very near and dear to me who has just been diagnosed with ovarian cancer, and I kept thinking of her as I read this book. So much of what Tom wrote would help anyone struggling with a life threatening disease.
One last quote from the book sums up Tom’s courage and attitude as he walks this path into Alzheimer’s. But we can apply it to whatever we are facing in our own lives.
“What better way to die than celebrating life?”
Don’t wait for a drastic diagnosis to wake you up. Start celebrating life and living yours to the fullest now! Right now! Pick up that pen and write; pick up that brush and paint; pick up your feet and move towards your dream!
Whatever calls to you – just do it!
"It is never too late to become what you might have been."
George Elliott
My muscles are getting stronger, but I didn’t think I could handle peddling into that wind for very long, so we decided to spend a lazy morning at home and linger over a second cup of coffee while we caught up on some email. I even did a bit of housework and we made plans to head out on our bikes right after lunch.
No such luck. The winds seemed to be picking up in strength not dying down, so we did some gardening, cut the grass, and then I picked up a book. Maybe things would calm down after dinner and we could try an evening ride down to the waterfront. In the meantime, I made a cup of tea and settled in for an afternoon of reading.
Well, it is almost 7pm and it still sounds ferocious out there. So no biking tonight. Maybe just a walk around the block will have to do for today. Tomorrow is another day. After our walk we can make some popcorn and watch a movie. MMMM, that sounds good to me too.
I missed the bike ride today, but the day wasn’t a total loss. The book I picked up, “Losing My Mind” by Thomas DeBaggio, was riveting, and I finished it in one sitting. It is a book dealing with Alzheimer’s, but chock full of truths and lessons we can all take to heart to help us through a difficult time.
Tom is a writer and was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s in his 57th year. The book tells of his struggles when he first got the diagnosis and then his decision to write this book detailing his trip into this darkness called Alzheimer’s. Tom paints a vivid picture of what it is like on the inside looking out and seeing your memories slip away. Riveting, absolutely riveting.
Let me give you a few quotes from this most amazing book, just to give you a taste of it and maybe send you scurrying to your local bookstore or library to get your own copy.
“Here I am at the moment of truth and all I can muster are hot screams and scribbled graffiti torn from my soul. Moments of slithering memory now define my life.”
As a writer, I felt his pain when he talked about feeling his ability to write start to slip away.
“I sit at my worktable, a still world around me, and stare at the wall, empty of decoration. I become lost in the vocabulary of silence. Thoughts squiggle and writhe into sentences that disappear before they can be acknowledged.”
“I bleed emotions every hour and play with a tricky shifting alphabet of stumbling words. I have just spent five minutes struggling to spell the word “hour”.
“Almost every minute of the day is destroyed by the struggle to reclaim lost words in my search to communicate. It is a losing battle, but I will sing until no word is left. Alzheimer’s is making me mute.”
Because this is a book about Alzheimer’s it deals in depth with the loss of memory, but it also talks about, facing death and how to live your life to the fullest in the meantime.
I have a person who is very near and dear to me who has just been diagnosed with ovarian cancer, and I kept thinking of her as I read this book. So much of what Tom wrote would help anyone struggling with a life threatening disease.
One last quote from the book sums up Tom’s courage and attitude as he walks this path into Alzheimer’s. But we can apply it to whatever we are facing in our own lives.
“What better way to die than celebrating life?”
Don’t wait for a drastic diagnosis to wake you up. Start celebrating life and living yours to the fullest now! Right now! Pick up that pen and write; pick up that brush and paint; pick up your feet and move towards your dream!
Whatever calls to you – just do it!
"It is never too late to become what you might have been."
George Elliott
Thursday, July 22, 2004
Magic Carpets
As you can tell from the lack of new blogs, I haven't been spending much time at the old computer these days. We are having so much fun on our new bikes that not much of anything else is getting done at all. The garden needs work, and the house is just getting a lick and a promise, but we are enjoying our time outside completely. If the sun is shining, we are out on the trails.
I am sure things will level out in a little while, but for now, we feel like kids again and it is just fun to take this trip "on our bikes" down memory lane. I can remember getting my first new bicycle. Can you?
I was 7 years old and looking forward to my 8th birthday. I loved to roller skate and bike and always wanted to be out on one or the other of them. I had my own roller skates, but I had to borrow an old rattletrap of a bike from a neighbour. I could skate whenever I wanted to, but had to wait for precious time on the bike. I taught myself to ride on that old bike, and once I got the knack of it and felt that freedom of flying like the wind along the streets, I was hooked. I never wanted to get off and come back down to earth, but it wasn’t my bike, so my rides were always too short and too few. My neighbour would wait impatiently for me to return, so she could reclaim her “magic carpet” and fly away on it by herself, while I stood firmly planted on the curb watching and longing for my own magic carpet.
My 8th birthday was going to be a special one because I was having an after school party that day, with eight of my friends from school. I was sooooooo excited. I received gifts from my family that morning before I left for school, and that started the day off on the right (or wrong) foot. I could hardly concentrate on any learning that day. My head was spinning with thoughts of all the gifts I had received that morning, and the grand and glorious party to come in the afternoon.
At 3pm, girls all gussied up in party dresses, carried brightly wrapped gifts, and walked home with me after school. We chatted and giggled as we walked along and were in high spirits indeed.
My mother had the kitchen decorated and snacks were waiting for us to nibble on. We had games to play, and prizes to be won. What fun. I could hardly take my eyes off the gift table though. All those gifts were for me. What were they? How delicious to look at them and anticipate opening them. Not yet though. Wait, I must wait.
We had supper, then the cake topped with lit candles, was carried to the table with great ceremony and accompanied by the singing of Happy Birthday to You!
We ate cake and ice cream and finally it was time to open the gifts. The anticipation and excitement had grown to an almost impossible level. I am sure the presents would not have been as much fun to open if I hadn’t had the joy of anticipation, all that day leading up to this moment.
I finished opening the gifts and didn’t think things could get any better than this, when I caught sight of my dad out of the corner of my eye. He was walking into the room with a brand new blue and white bicycle at his side. I couldn’t believe my eyes. A brand new bike! For me! Blue and white, and sparkling and new! For me! A bike I could use without asking anyone else for permission. A bike I could fly like the wind on and call my own. A bike I could ride more than once around the block and not have to give back. My own magic carpet. I was over the moon with joy.
Here I sit, 50 years later, and it seems like that just happened yesterday. I can still see that bike and experience all those feelings of joy. Now, when I get on my new bike, I go forward and backward in time. I am that 8-year-old girl again, riding her magic carpet, but I am also the 50-year-old woman, moving into a new phase of her life. A life made rich with all these wonderful memories. I continue to dream my dreams and let my imagination soar as I ride into my future anticipating what is waiting for me there.
We are never too old to hop on our magic carpets and dream our dreams. Come on, hop on yours and join me for a ride. It is bound to be a blast. Up Up and away!
I am sure things will level out in a little while, but for now, we feel like kids again and it is just fun to take this trip "on our bikes" down memory lane. I can remember getting my first new bicycle. Can you?
I was 7 years old and looking forward to my 8th birthday. I loved to roller skate and bike and always wanted to be out on one or the other of them. I had my own roller skates, but I had to borrow an old rattletrap of a bike from a neighbour. I could skate whenever I wanted to, but had to wait for precious time on the bike. I taught myself to ride on that old bike, and once I got the knack of it and felt that freedom of flying like the wind along the streets, I was hooked. I never wanted to get off and come back down to earth, but it wasn’t my bike, so my rides were always too short and too few. My neighbour would wait impatiently for me to return, so she could reclaim her “magic carpet” and fly away on it by herself, while I stood firmly planted on the curb watching and longing for my own magic carpet.
My 8th birthday was going to be a special one because I was having an after school party that day, with eight of my friends from school. I was sooooooo excited. I received gifts from my family that morning before I left for school, and that started the day off on the right (or wrong) foot. I could hardly concentrate on any learning that day. My head was spinning with thoughts of all the gifts I had received that morning, and the grand and glorious party to come in the afternoon.
At 3pm, girls all gussied up in party dresses, carried brightly wrapped gifts, and walked home with me after school. We chatted and giggled as we walked along and were in high spirits indeed.
My mother had the kitchen decorated and snacks were waiting for us to nibble on. We had games to play, and prizes to be won. What fun. I could hardly take my eyes off the gift table though. All those gifts were for me. What were they? How delicious to look at them and anticipate opening them. Not yet though. Wait, I must wait.
We had supper, then the cake topped with lit candles, was carried to the table with great ceremony and accompanied by the singing of Happy Birthday to You!
We ate cake and ice cream and finally it was time to open the gifts. The anticipation and excitement had grown to an almost impossible level. I am sure the presents would not have been as much fun to open if I hadn’t had the joy of anticipation, all that day leading up to this moment.
I finished opening the gifts and didn’t think things could get any better than this, when I caught sight of my dad out of the corner of my eye. He was walking into the room with a brand new blue and white bicycle at his side. I couldn’t believe my eyes. A brand new bike! For me! Blue and white, and sparkling and new! For me! A bike I could use without asking anyone else for permission. A bike I could fly like the wind on and call my own. A bike I could ride more than once around the block and not have to give back. My own magic carpet. I was over the moon with joy.
Here I sit, 50 years later, and it seems like that just happened yesterday. I can still see that bike and experience all those feelings of joy. Now, when I get on my new bike, I go forward and backward in time. I am that 8-year-old girl again, riding her magic carpet, but I am also the 50-year-old woman, moving into a new phase of her life. A life made rich with all these wonderful memories. I continue to dream my dreams and let my imagination soar as I ride into my future anticipating what is waiting for me there.
We are never too old to hop on our magic carpets and dream our dreams. Come on, hop on yours and join me for a ride. It is bound to be a blast. Up Up and away!
Tuesday, July 20, 2004
Wild Geese
I mentioned in my profile that I really like Mary Oliver poetry. She touches something inside of me and I thought you might like to sample some of her words too. The feeling of her words on my spirit is like melting chocolate in my mouth. MMMMM! I read them slowly and savor the flavor. With so many of her poems, I feel like she is looking over my shoulder and sees my life. She voices my thoughts and feelings and questions. Just amazing.
"....for poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry."
Mary Oliver
Here is the first poem I read by her. I will post a few more later. Enjoy.
Wild Geese
by Mary Oliver
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
"....for poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry."
Mary Oliver
Here is the first poem I read by her. I will post a few more later. Enjoy.
Wild Geese
by Mary Oliver
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
Sunday, July 18, 2004
Bunnies, Blue Jays, Butterflies and Bugs
What a grand and glorious day we had out on our new bikes today. Yes, we got new bikes and are looking forward to the many adventures awaiting us along the nature trails in our area. We went out this morning for an hour and half and saw, Bunnies, Blue Jays, Butterflies and even a bug or two. Well, actually, I didn't see a bug, but one saw me and gave me a rather nasty bite on the leg. Ouch! Felt like a bee sting it did, and I yelped but good. I had a nasty looking welt for a couple of hours, but it is gone now. So no great harm done. (Note to self - put bug spray in my back-pack for the next trip!!).
We borrowed bikes from friends last week and went for a tour of the waterfront. I was a bit fearful at first, but after the first few minutes I started to relax and enjoy the ride. Every few minutes I would do a “body check” to see how I was doing – Neck? Ok! Back? Ok! Knees? Ok! – all were doing fine. Yahoo. We stopped after an hour and took a brief rest. Knees, neck and back were still ok, so we set off again. It was a total blast. At the end of two hours we took the bikes back to our friend’s house and went home for lunch and a shower.
A few years ago I fell while roller blading and as a result have a compression fracture in my back. That put an end to my roller blading days, but not my desire to get back outside on some wheels and enjoy that marvellous feeling of zipping along in the great outdoors. I had been wondering for the past few months if my back could handle biking, but I didn’t want to buy a bike and then discover that I couldn’t do it. I think I was afraid of trying it too. What if I fell again? I mentioned this to a friend and she encouraged me to borrow her bike and take it out for as long as I wanted to. So Friday was the day.
After our morning trial run on the bikes, John and I went home for lunch and a shower and by 2pm we were in the bike shop looking at “comfort bikes”. That is what they call the kind of bike with high handle-bars, comfy seats with shock absorbing features, and wide tires for easier navigating along the nature trails. We found two bikes that seemed to be made to order for us, right down to the colour, so we took them out for a test spin. We went back to the waterfront and peddled along the pathways there and before long we knew that these new bikes would be coming home with us that day.
That was three days ago and after all the biking on that day, and the next and the next, we still don’t have sore or stiff muscles at all. Back, neck and knees are all still doing fine so we are planning our next trip along another trail for Tuesday.
I am so glad that I had a generous friend who saw the desire in my heart and encouraged me to face my fear of falling again and go for a spin on her bike. What would we do without friends who encourage us to step out of our box and then help us take the first tentative step?
I encourage you to face a fear you have today and take a step outside your box. There is a whole world waiting for you out there. You might get a nasty bite or two along the way, but nothing as bad as staying in your box and not enjoying life to the fullest. Go ahead. Take that step.
We borrowed bikes from friends last week and went for a tour of the waterfront. I was a bit fearful at first, but after the first few minutes I started to relax and enjoy the ride. Every few minutes I would do a “body check” to see how I was doing – Neck? Ok! Back? Ok! Knees? Ok! – all were doing fine. Yahoo. We stopped after an hour and took a brief rest. Knees, neck and back were still ok, so we set off again. It was a total blast. At the end of two hours we took the bikes back to our friend’s house and went home for lunch and a shower.
A few years ago I fell while roller blading and as a result have a compression fracture in my back. That put an end to my roller blading days, but not my desire to get back outside on some wheels and enjoy that marvellous feeling of zipping along in the great outdoors. I had been wondering for the past few months if my back could handle biking, but I didn’t want to buy a bike and then discover that I couldn’t do it. I think I was afraid of trying it too. What if I fell again? I mentioned this to a friend and she encouraged me to borrow her bike and take it out for as long as I wanted to. So Friday was the day.
After our morning trial run on the bikes, John and I went home for lunch and a shower and by 2pm we were in the bike shop looking at “comfort bikes”. That is what they call the kind of bike with high handle-bars, comfy seats with shock absorbing features, and wide tires for easier navigating along the nature trails. We found two bikes that seemed to be made to order for us, right down to the colour, so we took them out for a test spin. We went back to the waterfront and peddled along the pathways there and before long we knew that these new bikes would be coming home with us that day.
That was three days ago and after all the biking on that day, and the next and the next, we still don’t have sore or stiff muscles at all. Back, neck and knees are all still doing fine so we are planning our next trip along another trail for Tuesday.
I am so glad that I had a generous friend who saw the desire in my heart and encouraged me to face my fear of falling again and go for a spin on her bike. What would we do without friends who encourage us to step out of our box and then help us take the first tentative step?
I encourage you to face a fear you have today and take a step outside your box. There is a whole world waiting for you out there. You might get a nasty bite or two along the way, but nothing as bad as staying in your box and not enjoying life to the fullest. Go ahead. Take that step.
Wednesday, July 14, 2004
Happiness is a Choice… cont’d
I posted my blog on Happiness being a choice, earlier today, but all sorts of additional thoughts kept swirling through my head as the day progressed. Thoughts and questions about happiness in the far flung corners of this old world of ours. So I continue on with the theme in this second blog.
I can talk about happiness being a choice in the world as I know it, but what about in the worlds I know nothing about? What do my “family members” in war torn countries know of happiness and misery? How can I relate to them?
Quite a while ago I was listening to an interview on CBC radio after a bombing in Israel. The interviewer was talking to a woman there and he asked her how she coped with the violence in her world and how she managed to continue on with her daily activities after such an event. She quoted this verse from a Leonard Cohen song…
“Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the life gets in.”
And then she said, “You ring the bells that still can ring, and you go on.”
I don’t know about you, but that just stopped me right in my tracks. Whatever little crisis I might be facing in my life pales in comparison with what some of my “sisters” around the world face every day. So, whatever you are facing today, ring the bells that still can ring, and go on.
I have an old, yellowing, newspaper clipping in my journal, it contains a picture of my “sister” in Afghanistan. She is huddled down on a dusty roadside, wrapped in her burka. She has her arm outstretched and is accepting a donation from a passing car. The newspaper article explains that because of Taliban restrictions on women working outside the home at that time, widows in Afghanistan had to be beggars or prostitutes. I don’t know what this woman’s story was, but she now had to sit on this dusty road in the heat of the day and beg for money for food.
Even though I couldn’t see her face, she was etched on my heart, and I wept for this “sister” that day and I still hurt for her now. But for the grace of God, that could be me sitting there instead of her. Do I understand why she is suffering so much, and not me? No, and I don’t pretend to.
What does she know of happiness? What does she know of misery? How can I help her? All these questions go through my mind, and I wrestle with them.
More recently I was looking through the Toronto Star and saw another picture that took my breath away and tugged at my heart. Let me insert here, a portion of what I wrote in my personal journal that day...
July 5th, 8am…. I just glanced at the headlines in the Toronto Star and the pictures I saw there of the situation in Chad are heartbreaking. How can this be happening on the same planet that I live on? I sit in my lush green garden and it just doesn’t compute with the pictures of Chad on the front page of the Star this morning. How can people do this to each other? I just don’t understand.
Does that woman sitting on the donkey, with her small child on her lap, not have the same hopes and dreams I do? Dear God, my heart breaks for her. The landscape that surrounds her is parched and desolate, breathing out a spirit of hopelessness and death. The hot dry wind sucks the joy out of life like it sucks the moisture out of the air. Does this woman not feel hunger and thirst like I do? Does she not long to feel the refreshing summer rain on her face and cool breezes in her hair? Does she not want a soft dry place to sleep, clean fresh water to drink, and safety and a future for her children? Of course she does. All the things that I take such joy in seem so far away from her. She is my sister in this family of humanity, and I have so much while she has so little. What is wrong with the world?
I am sitting in my quiet, cool house on this summer morning. Enjoying the comfort of my favourite rocking chair, while I journal and get my “to do” list set for the day. I can hear birds chirping just outside the window and the cat is purring at my feet. How can I experience all this when my “sister” in Chad is sitting on her donkey in that desolate, hostile place?
I have a shopping list on the counter in the kitchen – white shoes, pink purse, black slacks. Summer things should be on sale soon, so I made a list of things I want to look for and purchase, if I see a good sale. I scanned the list this morning while I poured myself a cup of steaming coffee, adding lots of fresh cream to the mix. MMMM, that first cup of coffee is so good.
As I sit here now, my mind goes back to that shopping list and I wonder what is on my “sister’s” list in Chad this morning- water, grain, firewood....? Are we really on the same planet? God help us!
12noon…I had my coffee and cereal earlier than normal this morning, so I am really hungry right now and it is only noon. I had juice, coffee with cream, cereal full of nuts, dried fruit and grains, and I added lots of milk. I have been drinking water all morning but I am still parched for a cup of tea with my lunch. How is my “sister” doing in Chad? What did she have for breakfast? Will she get any lunch? God help her…”
I ask myself again. What do I know of her pain? Nothing! Nothing at all! She and my “sister” in Afghanistan are beyond the reach of my arm, but not beyond the reach of my compassion. I do hold them in my heart and I try to honour them and acknowledge their suffering by reaching out to women who are within the reach of my arm, to help and encourage them if I can. Are we not all family? When one hurts, do we not all hurt?
I don’t know how people can chose to be happy and find hope in spite of terrible circumstances, but they do. When I read quotes from others who have gone through dreadful times, I am amazed at the human spirit and how it rises above the horrible physical and emotional pain and finds something beautiful.
I have collected quotes for many years. Let me close this blog with a few that put these feelings into words much better than I can.
“Because in spite of everything. I still believe that people are really good at heart.” Ann Frank
“I believe in the sun, even when it is not shining.
I believe in love, even when I do not feel it.
I believe in God, even when He is silent.”
Lines found scrawled on a cellar wall in Cologne, Germany, after bombing during World War II destroyed the city.
“If there is a purpose in life at all, there must be a purpose in suffering and in dying. But no man can tell another what this purpose is. Each must find out for himself, and must accept the responsibility that his answer prescribes.”
Viktor Frankl
“He who has a “why” to live can bear with almost any “how”.”
Nietzsche
“The last of human freedoms – the ability to choose one’s attitude in a given set of circumstances.” Viktor Frankl
Happiness is a choice. It really is.
I can talk about happiness being a choice in the world as I know it, but what about in the worlds I know nothing about? What do my “family members” in war torn countries know of happiness and misery? How can I relate to them?
Quite a while ago I was listening to an interview on CBC radio after a bombing in Israel. The interviewer was talking to a woman there and he asked her how she coped with the violence in her world and how she managed to continue on with her daily activities after such an event. She quoted this verse from a Leonard Cohen song…
“Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the life gets in.”
And then she said, “You ring the bells that still can ring, and you go on.”
I don’t know about you, but that just stopped me right in my tracks. Whatever little crisis I might be facing in my life pales in comparison with what some of my “sisters” around the world face every day. So, whatever you are facing today, ring the bells that still can ring, and go on.
I have an old, yellowing, newspaper clipping in my journal, it contains a picture of my “sister” in Afghanistan. She is huddled down on a dusty roadside, wrapped in her burka. She has her arm outstretched and is accepting a donation from a passing car. The newspaper article explains that because of Taliban restrictions on women working outside the home at that time, widows in Afghanistan had to be beggars or prostitutes. I don’t know what this woman’s story was, but she now had to sit on this dusty road in the heat of the day and beg for money for food.
Even though I couldn’t see her face, she was etched on my heart, and I wept for this “sister” that day and I still hurt for her now. But for the grace of God, that could be me sitting there instead of her. Do I understand why she is suffering so much, and not me? No, and I don’t pretend to.
What does she know of happiness? What does she know of misery? How can I help her? All these questions go through my mind, and I wrestle with them.
More recently I was looking through the Toronto Star and saw another picture that took my breath away and tugged at my heart. Let me insert here, a portion of what I wrote in my personal journal that day...
July 5th, 8am…. I just glanced at the headlines in the Toronto Star and the pictures I saw there of the situation in Chad are heartbreaking. How can this be happening on the same planet that I live on? I sit in my lush green garden and it just doesn’t compute with the pictures of Chad on the front page of the Star this morning. How can people do this to each other? I just don’t understand.
Does that woman sitting on the donkey, with her small child on her lap, not have the same hopes and dreams I do? Dear God, my heart breaks for her. The landscape that surrounds her is parched and desolate, breathing out a spirit of hopelessness and death. The hot dry wind sucks the joy out of life like it sucks the moisture out of the air. Does this woman not feel hunger and thirst like I do? Does she not long to feel the refreshing summer rain on her face and cool breezes in her hair? Does she not want a soft dry place to sleep, clean fresh water to drink, and safety and a future for her children? Of course she does. All the things that I take such joy in seem so far away from her. She is my sister in this family of humanity, and I have so much while she has so little. What is wrong with the world?
I am sitting in my quiet, cool house on this summer morning. Enjoying the comfort of my favourite rocking chair, while I journal and get my “to do” list set for the day. I can hear birds chirping just outside the window and the cat is purring at my feet. How can I experience all this when my “sister” in Chad is sitting on her donkey in that desolate, hostile place?
I have a shopping list on the counter in the kitchen – white shoes, pink purse, black slacks. Summer things should be on sale soon, so I made a list of things I want to look for and purchase, if I see a good sale. I scanned the list this morning while I poured myself a cup of steaming coffee, adding lots of fresh cream to the mix. MMMM, that first cup of coffee is so good.
As I sit here now, my mind goes back to that shopping list and I wonder what is on my “sister’s” list in Chad this morning- water, grain, firewood....? Are we really on the same planet? God help us!
12noon…I had my coffee and cereal earlier than normal this morning, so I am really hungry right now and it is only noon. I had juice, coffee with cream, cereal full of nuts, dried fruit and grains, and I added lots of milk. I have been drinking water all morning but I am still parched for a cup of tea with my lunch. How is my “sister” doing in Chad? What did she have for breakfast? Will she get any lunch? God help her…”
I ask myself again. What do I know of her pain? Nothing! Nothing at all! She and my “sister” in Afghanistan are beyond the reach of my arm, but not beyond the reach of my compassion. I do hold them in my heart and I try to honour them and acknowledge their suffering by reaching out to women who are within the reach of my arm, to help and encourage them if I can. Are we not all family? When one hurts, do we not all hurt?
I don’t know how people can chose to be happy and find hope in spite of terrible circumstances, but they do. When I read quotes from others who have gone through dreadful times, I am amazed at the human spirit and how it rises above the horrible physical and emotional pain and finds something beautiful.
I have collected quotes for many years. Let me close this blog with a few that put these feelings into words much better than I can.
“Because in spite of everything. I still believe that people are really good at heart.” Ann Frank
“I believe in the sun, even when it is not shining.
I believe in love, even when I do not feel it.
I believe in God, even when He is silent.”
Lines found scrawled on a cellar wall in Cologne, Germany, after bombing during World War II destroyed the city.
“If there is a purpose in life at all, there must be a purpose in suffering and in dying. But no man can tell another what this purpose is. Each must find out for himself, and must accept the responsibility that his answer prescribes.”
Viktor Frankl
“He who has a “why” to live can bear with almost any “how”.”
Nietzsche
“The last of human freedoms – the ability to choose one’s attitude in a given set of circumstances.” Viktor Frankl
Happiness is a choice. It really is.
Happiness is a Choice
Do genuinely happy people really exist in the world today? Hmmm? Yes, they do. Happiness is a choice, and you can chose to be happy in spite of circumstances. Pain in this life is inevitable, but misery is optional. It is up to you.
In the past three years I have spent many hours in the cancer clinic, hospital labs, chemo rooms, doctor’s offices, O.R. waiting rooms and finally the Palliative care unit, while I watched a family member valiantly fight cancer. In April of last year this latest fight ended as a spring storm raged outside. We stood in the darkened hospital room and listened to the laboured breathing mingle with the sound of rain pelting against the hospital window. Our hearts felt wind swept and battered too. At 3am the storm had past. The rain and the breathing stopped. All was silent – inside and out. What a painful time this was for the whole family. We wanted the suffering to end, but not the life.
Oh, it is such a struggle to go from life to death. Much like the birthing process. Each is a transition from one world to another and both are a laborious journey into the unknown.
You see TV programs depicting people dying, and they just close their eyes and drift off. Well, it might happen like that sometimes, but not in my experience. I have stood by three hospital beds watching a loved one die - congestive heart failure, bone cancer and liver cancer- and each one was a struggle, a battle to the absolute end to keep breathing. Even when the person went into a coma, the body continued to fight to breathe. In and out, in and out!
We went through this last trauma in April and in August I was hearing these words spoken to me by my family doctor – “You need a biopsy right away. It could be cancer.” I was knocked off my feet. This couldn’t be happening to me. I had just spent the past three years in the “cancer” world and it was all too fresh in my memory. It couldn’t be happening to me. Not now. Not so soon. I needed time to catch my breath. Please God, not this, not now.
I cried, I sat and stared into space, I talked to friends and I cried some more. I waited for the specialist’s appointment, then I waited for the biopsy procedure and then I waited for the results. Six weeks from the time I first heard those words – It could be cancer, we need to do a biopsy – till I heard the results. Every day was 10 years long. One minute I was sure I didn’t have cancer, but the next I was sure that I did. I had walked this path with so many others, and I knew that bad diagnosis came all the time, to young and old alike.
“Death is the sugar you add to life to make it sweeter!” I heard a terminal cancer patient utter these words on a documentary program about living with cancer, and I never forgot them. They became real to me during this time. I was staring in the face, the very real possibility of my own death from this cancer, and that reality did make every minute of every day sweeter.
I would get up in the morning and be so thankful that I didn’t have any pain. I could breathe without pain; I could move without pain; I could eat without pain; I could get outside for a walk or visit with friends, without pain. Life was good. I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but for that day, that hour that minute I was ok and I was going to enjoy it and feel it and taste it and smell it. I didn’t have to go to the cancer clinic that day. I didn’t have to face chemo that day – it was a good day. Let tomorrow take care of itself, I had today.
I read poetry, I walked in the park, I sat in my garden, I talked to friends and family and I wrote and wrote and wrote. The day finally came when I went for my biopsy results. My husband came with me, because I didn’t know if I would be able to remember what the doctor said, or if I could even process the words spoken to me.
We walked into the hospital like two automatons. Going through the same doors we walked through in April on our way up to the Palliative care unit. This time we got off on a different floor and walked to the doctor’s office, but our minds were still three floors up and in the room at the end of the hall. Had it really only been 6 months since we sat through that stormy night in April? Seemed like a lifetime ago and only yesterday – both at the same time. Funny how time shrinks and expands like that, when you are going through extreme joy or extreme sorrow. They are two sides of the same coin really.
We walked into the doctor’s office, braced for the bad news. My knees buckled and I cried when I heard the words “Everything is fine. The tests came back negative for Cancer. We are not sure what the problem is, but we know it isn’t cancer, so we will go forward from here.” Other things were talked about concerning more tests and follow up visits and treatment, but it wasn’t cancer and I didn’t hear much past that. I walked out of the hospital in tears and didn’t even try to stop them. I had dodged the bullet this time. One day I won’t, but for now I had, and I was free to go. Ah, that first breath of fresh air outside the hospital doors was delicious.
Choose happiness everyday no matter what the circumstances. In the middle of pain and sorrow, go down deep for that inner wellspring of joy. It is there. You can find it. Pain is inevitable, but misery is optional.
In the past three years I have spent many hours in the cancer clinic, hospital labs, chemo rooms, doctor’s offices, O.R. waiting rooms and finally the Palliative care unit, while I watched a family member valiantly fight cancer. In April of last year this latest fight ended as a spring storm raged outside. We stood in the darkened hospital room and listened to the laboured breathing mingle with the sound of rain pelting against the hospital window. Our hearts felt wind swept and battered too. At 3am the storm had past. The rain and the breathing stopped. All was silent – inside and out. What a painful time this was for the whole family. We wanted the suffering to end, but not the life.
Oh, it is such a struggle to go from life to death. Much like the birthing process. Each is a transition from one world to another and both are a laborious journey into the unknown.
You see TV programs depicting people dying, and they just close their eyes and drift off. Well, it might happen like that sometimes, but not in my experience. I have stood by three hospital beds watching a loved one die - congestive heart failure, bone cancer and liver cancer- and each one was a struggle, a battle to the absolute end to keep breathing. Even when the person went into a coma, the body continued to fight to breathe. In and out, in and out!
We went through this last trauma in April and in August I was hearing these words spoken to me by my family doctor – “You need a biopsy right away. It could be cancer.” I was knocked off my feet. This couldn’t be happening to me. I had just spent the past three years in the “cancer” world and it was all too fresh in my memory. It couldn’t be happening to me. Not now. Not so soon. I needed time to catch my breath. Please God, not this, not now.
I cried, I sat and stared into space, I talked to friends and I cried some more. I waited for the specialist’s appointment, then I waited for the biopsy procedure and then I waited for the results. Six weeks from the time I first heard those words – It could be cancer, we need to do a biopsy – till I heard the results. Every day was 10 years long. One minute I was sure I didn’t have cancer, but the next I was sure that I did. I had walked this path with so many others, and I knew that bad diagnosis came all the time, to young and old alike.
“Death is the sugar you add to life to make it sweeter!” I heard a terminal cancer patient utter these words on a documentary program about living with cancer, and I never forgot them. They became real to me during this time. I was staring in the face, the very real possibility of my own death from this cancer, and that reality did make every minute of every day sweeter.
I would get up in the morning and be so thankful that I didn’t have any pain. I could breathe without pain; I could move without pain; I could eat without pain; I could get outside for a walk or visit with friends, without pain. Life was good. I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but for that day, that hour that minute I was ok and I was going to enjoy it and feel it and taste it and smell it. I didn’t have to go to the cancer clinic that day. I didn’t have to face chemo that day – it was a good day. Let tomorrow take care of itself, I had today.
I read poetry, I walked in the park, I sat in my garden, I talked to friends and family and I wrote and wrote and wrote. The day finally came when I went for my biopsy results. My husband came with me, because I didn’t know if I would be able to remember what the doctor said, or if I could even process the words spoken to me.
We walked into the hospital like two automatons. Going through the same doors we walked through in April on our way up to the Palliative care unit. This time we got off on a different floor and walked to the doctor’s office, but our minds were still three floors up and in the room at the end of the hall. Had it really only been 6 months since we sat through that stormy night in April? Seemed like a lifetime ago and only yesterday – both at the same time. Funny how time shrinks and expands like that, when you are going through extreme joy or extreme sorrow. They are two sides of the same coin really.
We walked into the doctor’s office, braced for the bad news. My knees buckled and I cried when I heard the words “Everything is fine. The tests came back negative for Cancer. We are not sure what the problem is, but we know it isn’t cancer, so we will go forward from here.” Other things were talked about concerning more tests and follow up visits and treatment, but it wasn’t cancer and I didn’t hear much past that. I walked out of the hospital in tears and didn’t even try to stop them. I had dodged the bullet this time. One day I won’t, but for now I had, and I was free to go. Ah, that first breath of fresh air outside the hospital doors was delicious.
Choose happiness everyday no matter what the circumstances. In the middle of pain and sorrow, go down deep for that inner wellspring of joy. It is there. You can find it. Pain is inevitable, but misery is optional.
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
Tell yourself the truth
I am reading a book by Martha Beck called the Joy Diet, and even though it is not easy reading, I would highly recommend it. I have had it for six months now and I am only half way through it. It is not a book that you read once and put on the shelf. It is a book to work through and put into practise one small step at a time.
In one chapter it challenged me to “tell myself the truth”. That seems simple enough to do, right? Tell yourself the truth? Should be, but isn’t. Sometimes we tell ourselves such stories about the truth of a situation, and then suffer so much senseless emotional pain as a result.
Let me give you a quote from this chapter, it says it so much clearer than I can…
“Author and teacher Byron Katie learned this dramatically in her early forties when she ended decades of rage, depression, and self-hatred by addressing her mind’s stories with intense inquiry about the real truth of her experience. In her wonderfully useful book “Loving What Is”, Katie describes how this worked on a night when her daughter, who at the time was abusing drugs and alcohol, failed to come home.
The thoughts that would appear in my mind were thoughts like these:
’……she’ll drive, and she’ll kill someone, she’ll crash into another car or a lamppost and kill herself and her passengers.’ As the thoughts appeared, each one was met with wordless, thoughtless inquiry. And inquiry instantly brought me back to reality. Here is what was true; woman sitting in chair waiting for her beloved daughter.'
Katie’s method of inquiry, which I highly recommend, requires that you identify painful issues in your own life, examine the stories you tell yourself about the situation, and notice that these stories often have little to do with the “clean pain” or “truth” of genuine experience.”
This little section of this one chapter has been worth the cost of the whole book to me. Now when my imagination runs away with me, as it often does, and I am tempted to worry about my daughter travelling alone, or the health of a family member, or the state of the economy, or… any number of other things. I stop myself short and challenge every thought. What is the truth of the situation? The truth and only the truth, nothing else. I mustn't read into the situation what could happen, or what the other person might be thinking or doing. Just tell myself the truth and move forward from there!!!!
This has been wonderfully freeing. All the wild imaginings are quieted and I am at peace. The old quote from the Bible, "You shall know the truth and the truth will set you free", is really true. Try it, you’ll like it. Tell yourself the truth.
In one chapter it challenged me to “tell myself the truth”. That seems simple enough to do, right? Tell yourself the truth? Should be, but isn’t. Sometimes we tell ourselves such stories about the truth of a situation, and then suffer so much senseless emotional pain as a result.
Let me give you a quote from this chapter, it says it so much clearer than I can…
“Author and teacher Byron Katie learned this dramatically in her early forties when she ended decades of rage, depression, and self-hatred by addressing her mind’s stories with intense inquiry about the real truth of her experience. In her wonderfully useful book “Loving What Is”, Katie describes how this worked on a night when her daughter, who at the time was abusing drugs and alcohol, failed to come home.
The thoughts that would appear in my mind were thoughts like these:
’……she’ll drive, and she’ll kill someone, she’ll crash into another car or a lamppost and kill herself and her passengers.’ As the thoughts appeared, each one was met with wordless, thoughtless inquiry. And inquiry instantly brought me back to reality. Here is what was true; woman sitting in chair waiting for her beloved daughter.'
Katie’s method of inquiry, which I highly recommend, requires that you identify painful issues in your own life, examine the stories you tell yourself about the situation, and notice that these stories often have little to do with the “clean pain” or “truth” of genuine experience.”
This little section of this one chapter has been worth the cost of the whole book to me. Now when my imagination runs away with me, as it often does, and I am tempted to worry about my daughter travelling alone, or the health of a family member, or the state of the economy, or… any number of other things. I stop myself short and challenge every thought. What is the truth of the situation? The truth and only the truth, nothing else. I mustn't read into the situation what could happen, or what the other person might be thinking or doing. Just tell myself the truth and move forward from there!!!!
This has been wonderfully freeing. All the wild imaginings are quieted and I am at peace. The old quote from the Bible, "You shall know the truth and the truth will set you free", is really true. Try it, you’ll like it. Tell yourself the truth.
Sunday, July 11, 2004
Time Flies when….
I went to visit my brother and his significant other yesterday, and we spent a delightful afternoon strolling down memory lane. Stopping here and there to linger over memories of our children’s weddings and share pictures and stories from each event. We sauntered along paths littered with stories of our present lives and peered down tree lined corridors along the way that we might take in the near future: possible retirement at the end of one; job changes involving a move to another country sitting at the end of another; and a health crisis lurking in a dark distant third corridor.
Eight hours after we had arrived, I looked at my watch and was astonished to see the time. Was it really 9pm? It seemed like we had only been there a couple of hours and I didn’t want to leave, but we had a long drive back to our home, so we had to start making tracks. We left at 10pm amidst hugs and promises to get together next month and pick up where we had left off.
We are only an hours' drive down the road, but in these busy times with hectic schedules it might as well be the other side of the ocean. We each spin in our own worlds promising to get together, but time moves forward at the speed of light and days become weeks, weeks months and months years!!!!! Email keeps us in contact, but there is nothing quite like a face to face chat and a real hug instead of a cyber one.
Time flies, when you are having fun and when you are busy, but we must clip its wings periodically and make it sit still long enough to stop the blur, so we can see clearly the faces of those most important to us. What a priceless gift,to look into their eyes and see the hopes and dreams and stories there. I looked into my brother’s eyes yesterday and saw my dad there. I saw our shared childhood there. I saw my brother’s kind and gentle spirit there and I rejoiced that we had made time sit still on that summer afternoon, long enough for us to see each other. Even though the afternoon galloped forward and flew by at the speed of light, we were motionless in the eye of the whirlwind and saw each other.
What a priceless treasure.
Eight hours after we had arrived, I looked at my watch and was astonished to see the time. Was it really 9pm? It seemed like we had only been there a couple of hours and I didn’t want to leave, but we had a long drive back to our home, so we had to start making tracks. We left at 10pm amidst hugs and promises to get together next month and pick up where we had left off.
We are only an hours' drive down the road, but in these busy times with hectic schedules it might as well be the other side of the ocean. We each spin in our own worlds promising to get together, but time moves forward at the speed of light and days become weeks, weeks months and months years!!!!! Email keeps us in contact, but there is nothing quite like a face to face chat and a real hug instead of a cyber one.
Time flies, when you are having fun and when you are busy, but we must clip its wings periodically and make it sit still long enough to stop the blur, so we can see clearly the faces of those most important to us. What a priceless gift,to look into their eyes and see the hopes and dreams and stories there. I looked into my brother’s eyes yesterday and saw my dad there. I saw our shared childhood there. I saw my brother’s kind and gentle spirit there and I rejoiced that we had made time sit still on that summer afternoon, long enough for us to see each other. Even though the afternoon galloped forward and flew by at the speed of light, we were motionless in the eye of the whirlwind and saw each other.
What a priceless treasure.
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