This blog traces my footsteps.......
...from being a Fan of Life to becoming an active Participant in Life.
...from a begrudging self-acceptance to an enjoyment of Self.
...from a tendency to beat up on my self to affirming and encouraging my Self.
...from grief to Joy.
And this is only the Beginning.
Part of this growth has come from getting in touch with my Self each day; and finding words to express what I find there in this public arena. But the other part comes from the graciousness of fellow bloggers who have been kind enough to leave THEIR footprints on my blog and on my heart.
We are not meant to live in isolation; we are not programmed that way.
Living in community with one another enables each of us to do what none of us could accomplish on our own.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
A Hole In My Life
A couple years after my husband died, I had a dream where I was showing the master carpenter the large hole in my living room wall; telling him something needed to be done about it.
I believe this dream marks the turning point where at least one part of me was ready to do something about the hole left in my life by my husband's death.
But now I realize that I was going about it backwards - trying to put the cart before the horse, so to speak.
I kept trying to put my kitchen in order so I could move on to the living room - meaning I kept trying to get my food under control before becoming a more active participant in life.
I didn't realize until now, after finding the courage to be a Player In life instead of a Fan Of life, that my problems with food will not diminish until I begin doing all the things I have held myself back from doing.
About six months ago, I found the courage to come out of hiding and show who I am. It is time now to take the next step - out into the visible world with my true colors showing for all to see.
Wish me luck!
I believe this dream marks the turning point where at least one part of me was ready to do something about the hole left in my life by my husband's death.
But now I realize that I was going about it backwards - trying to put the cart before the horse, so to speak.
I kept trying to put my kitchen in order so I could move on to the living room - meaning I kept trying to get my food under control before becoming a more active participant in life.
I didn't realize until now, after finding the courage to be a Player In life instead of a Fan Of life, that my problems with food will not diminish until I begin doing all the things I have held myself back from doing.
About six months ago, I found the courage to come out of hiding and show who I am. It is time now to take the next step - out into the visible world with my true colors showing for all to see.
Wish me luck!
Saturday, January 26, 2008
An Unexpected Smile In January
Thursday was a typical day in January... a little on the cold side... but the sun was shining; so it was a good day to go to town...get some groceries...do some errands...get some gas....
The old guy that used to pump my gas retired a couple months ago and I miss him. I enjoyed the little conversations we had. He loved "making conversation" - you could tell.
The fellow that took over for him was a growly fellow; he always approached the car with a scowl and never exchanged a word of conversation.
I pulled in by the pumps, rolled down my window, and turned off the ignition. Steeling myself for the scowl I was expecting, I turned my head and coming toward me was someone I had not met yet.
He wore a smile that spread from ear to ear - a smile that made you glad you were alive to receive it.
What a difference a smile can make in a person's day. It seems to put you back in touch with everything that is worth living for - whether you know the smiling person or not. I am still carrying that man's smile in my heart 48 hours later.
I AM GRATEFUL TO BE ALIVE.
I AM GRATEFUL TO BE.
I AM GRATEFUL.....
Six years ago when my husband died, I had to fight for the will to go on. Three and a half years went by; and I was still struggling. More of me wanted to leave here than stay. My family was all grown. Even my grandchildren were busy with the lives they were building for themselves. I didn't feel needed anymore. I hadn't learned yet that is not the only reason for living.
One sunny day in spring, as I was giving my granddaughter a drive back to the university she was attending, I got a flat tire while driving at highway speed. By the time I regained control of the car, we were on the wrong side of the highway in the path of a transport truck. I figured we stood a better chance with the 40-foot embankment.
They needed the jaws-of-life to get me out of the car. My grandaughter was not injured - I thank God daily for that. I would not want to leave a legacy like that behind. If it were not for my granddaughter, I would never have got out of that car. Nobody would have known where I had disappeared to even. How terrible that would have been for my family - the not knowing. My grandaughter was so brave that day. She climbed out the back window of the car; and scaled the embankment in her bare feet to get help (her sandals had come off in the accident).
That accident gave me so much to be grateful for. My granddaughter's life. My life. My injuries could have been so much worse. I have had to fight to regain my mobility after that accident - and it may never be what it was before the accident. But it gave me back my life...............
And for that, I am grateful.
The old guy that used to pump my gas retired a couple months ago and I miss him. I enjoyed the little conversations we had. He loved "making conversation" - you could tell.
The fellow that took over for him was a growly fellow; he always approached the car with a scowl and never exchanged a word of conversation.
I pulled in by the pumps, rolled down my window, and turned off the ignition. Steeling myself for the scowl I was expecting, I turned my head and coming toward me was someone I had not met yet.
He wore a smile that spread from ear to ear - a smile that made you glad you were alive to receive it.
What a difference a smile can make in a person's day. It seems to put you back in touch with everything that is worth living for - whether you know the smiling person or not. I am still carrying that man's smile in my heart 48 hours later.
I AM GRATEFUL TO BE ALIVE.
I AM GRATEFUL TO BE.
I AM GRATEFUL.....
Six years ago when my husband died, I had to fight for the will to go on. Three and a half years went by; and I was still struggling. More of me wanted to leave here than stay. My family was all grown. Even my grandchildren were busy with the lives they were building for themselves. I didn't feel needed anymore. I hadn't learned yet that is not the only reason for living.
One sunny day in spring, as I was giving my granddaughter a drive back to the university she was attending, I got a flat tire while driving at highway speed. By the time I regained control of the car, we were on the wrong side of the highway in the path of a transport truck. I figured we stood a better chance with the 40-foot embankment.
They needed the jaws-of-life to get me out of the car. My grandaughter was not injured - I thank God daily for that. I would not want to leave a legacy like that behind. If it were not for my granddaughter, I would never have got out of that car. Nobody would have known where I had disappeared to even. How terrible that would have been for my family - the not knowing. My grandaughter was so brave that day. She climbed out the back window of the car; and scaled the embankment in her bare feet to get help (her sandals had come off in the accident).
That accident gave me so much to be grateful for. My granddaughter's life. My life. My injuries could have been so much worse. I have had to fight to regain my mobility after that accident - and it may never be what it was before the accident. But it gave me back my life...............
And for that, I am grateful.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Warts And All
The earth angel I wrote about in my last post is the reason I now show myself to the world...after a lifetime of hiding.
It has not been easy for me to do this - especially in the beginning. But the rewards have been many - a new community of friends......accompanying me into deeper regions of myself..... encouraging me not to give up on myself...giving me external validation until I was more capable of giving myself the internal validation I lacked....had to learn how to give myself.
Now when I catch myself wanting to hide, I remind myself how that never did work for me....doesn't work for anybody. Now I own all of me - warts and all.
And strangely enough the things I considered pathological in myself, and in need of being changed, I am now recognizing as gifts my Creator blessed me with. Now I just have to learn how to work WITH these gifts instead of against them.
It has not been easy for me to do this - especially in the beginning. But the rewards have been many - a new community of friends......accompanying me into deeper regions of myself..... encouraging me not to give up on myself...giving me external validation until I was more capable of giving myself the internal validation I lacked....had to learn how to give myself.
Now when I catch myself wanting to hide, I remind myself how that never did work for me....doesn't work for anybody. Now I own all of me - warts and all.
And strangely enough the things I considered pathological in myself, and in need of being changed, I am now recognizing as gifts my Creator blessed me with. Now I just have to learn how to work WITH these gifts instead of against them.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Earth Angel
I am proud to call her friend.
She is the person who helped me find my voice; and the courage to use it to express my truth.
Every day that goes by, she is an inspiration to me.
At the age of 88, she is an active member of Kairos and of her church. She is also an active member in her community at large.......Always has her eye turned to what little bit of good she can do to make the world a better place.
She was a teacher in her day - still is. She has been gifted with the abilty to see the gifts of others; and with the ability to encourage people to use their gifts.
At 81 years of age, she went on a mission to Africa for two weeks. When personal fears hold me back from broadening my horizons, I think of her and push myself beyond my comfort zone.
Not a day goes by that somebody isn't motivated to push themselves a little further by watching this woman accomplish so much.....so effortlessly.....smiling and laughing the whole way.
Yes, it is a picture of her in my mind that brings me back out of my annual January wallowing, ready to face the world and do my small bit toward finding a better way - even if it is only done from the confines of my home during the second winter of partial hibernation.
She is the person who helped me find my voice; and the courage to use it to express my truth.
Every day that goes by, she is an inspiration to me.
At the age of 88, she is an active member of Kairos and of her church. She is also an active member in her community at large.......Always has her eye turned to what little bit of good she can do to make the world a better place.
She was a teacher in her day - still is. She has been gifted with the abilty to see the gifts of others; and with the ability to encourage people to use their gifts.
At 81 years of age, she went on a mission to Africa for two weeks. When personal fears hold me back from broadening my horizons, I think of her and push myself beyond my comfort zone.
Not a day goes by that somebody isn't motivated to push themselves a little further by watching this woman accomplish so much.....so effortlessly.....smiling and laughing the whole way.
Yes, it is a picture of her in my mind that brings me back out of my annual January wallowing, ready to face the world and do my small bit toward finding a better way - even if it is only done from the confines of my home during the second winter of partial hibernation.
Friday, January 18, 2008
Making A Statement
My friend Wollf got me thinking about honor and integrity yesterday. You would think they are one and the same thing....and they are...in a way.
But for me it kept wanting to be written from a feeling level as a woman of integrity/a man of honor. Why? I don't know.
I couldn't write a post yesterday because I could tell something was wanting to surface....from deep in the bowels........but wasn't quite ready for words. I've been in touch with angry feelings for the last couple weeks....at no particular thing....at everything....at nothing...I didn't know.
Today I am presented with this from deep inside myself:
Man In Black by Johnny Cash
Well, you wonder why I always dress in black,
Why you never see bright colors on my back,
And why does my appearance seem to have a somber tone.
Well, there's a reason for the things that I have on.
I wear the black for the poor and the beaten down,
Livin' in the hopeless, hungry side of town.
I wear it for the prisoner who has long paid for his crime,
But is there because he's a victim of the times.
I wear the black for those who never read,
Or listened to the words that Jesus said,
About the road to happiness through love and charity,
Why, you'd think He's talking straight to you and me.
Well, we're doin' mighty fine, I do suppose,
In our streak of lightnin' cars and fancy clothes,
But just so we're reminded of the ones who are held back,
Up front there ought to be a Man in Black.
I wear it for the sick and lonely old,
For the reckless ones whose bad trip left them cold,
I wear the black in mournin' for the lives that could have been,
Each week we lose a hundred fine young men.
And, I wear it for the thousands who have died,
Believen' that the Lord was on their side,
I wear it for another hundred thousand who have died,
Believen' that we all were on their side.
Well, there's things that never will be right I know,
And things need changin' everywhere you go,
But til we start to make a move to make a few things right,
You'll never see me wear a suit of white.
Ah, I'd love to wear a rainbow every day,
And tell the world that everything's OK,
But I'll try to carry off a little darkness on my back,
'Till things are brighter, I'm the Man in Black.
I'M THE WOMAN IN PHAT!
But for me it kept wanting to be written from a feeling level as a woman of integrity/a man of honor. Why? I don't know.
I couldn't write a post yesterday because I could tell something was wanting to surface....from deep in the bowels........but wasn't quite ready for words. I've been in touch with angry feelings for the last couple weeks....at no particular thing....at everything....at nothing...I didn't know.
Today I am presented with this from deep inside myself:
Man In Black by Johnny Cash
Well, you wonder why I always dress in black,
Why you never see bright colors on my back,
And why does my appearance seem to have a somber tone.
Well, there's a reason for the things that I have on.
I wear the black for the poor and the beaten down,
Livin' in the hopeless, hungry side of town.
I wear it for the prisoner who has long paid for his crime,
But is there because he's a victim of the times.
I wear the black for those who never read,
Or listened to the words that Jesus said,
About the road to happiness through love and charity,
Why, you'd think He's talking straight to you and me.
Well, we're doin' mighty fine, I do suppose,
In our streak of lightnin' cars and fancy clothes,
But just so we're reminded of the ones who are held back,
Up front there ought to be a Man in Black.
I wear it for the sick and lonely old,
For the reckless ones whose bad trip left them cold,
I wear the black in mournin' for the lives that could have been,
Each week we lose a hundred fine young men.
And, I wear it for the thousands who have died,
Believen' that the Lord was on their side,
I wear it for another hundred thousand who have died,
Believen' that we all were on their side.
Well, there's things that never will be right I know,
And things need changin' everywhere you go,
But til we start to make a move to make a few things right,
You'll never see me wear a suit of white.
Ah, I'd love to wear a rainbow every day,
And tell the world that everything's OK,
But I'll try to carry off a little darkness on my back,
'Till things are brighter, I'm the Man in Black.
I'M THE WOMAN IN PHAT!
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Principles & Virtues Worth Living By
I received this today in my email from a friend.
Principles & Virtues Worth Living By:
1. HONESTY
2. HOPE
3. FAITH
4. COURAGE
5. INTEGRITY
6. WILLINGNESS
7. HUMILITY
8. BROTHERLY LOVE
9. JUSTICE
10. PERSEVERANCE
11. SPIRITUALITY
12. SERVICE
If you are interested in a little more history on these principles, check out the following site:
http://www.barefootsworld.net/
You won't be sorry you did.
Principles & Virtues Worth Living By:
1. HONESTY
2. HOPE
3. FAITH
4. COURAGE
5. INTEGRITY
6. WILLINGNESS
7. HUMILITY
8. BROTHERLY LOVE
9. JUSTICE
10. PERSEVERANCE
11. SPIRITUALITY
12. SERVICE
If you are interested in a little more history on these principles, check out the following site:
http://www.barefootsworld.net/
You won't be sorry you did.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
...And I Believe In God
Years ago when I made my first journey to my inner depths, I went to a retreat where a nun took part in facilitating that experience.
She was the first (and only) person to tell me that it is okay to feel angry with God; and it is okay to express that anger to him.
A strange message to the ears of a person who was raised Catholic; and who grew up in a family where anger or any other strong emotion was not acceptable.
I understand, at a deeper level now, why it is okay to feel and express that anger to God - because lying buried beneath that anger is the gentleness of Love longing to see the light of day - longing to be experienced and expressed to others.
That same nun wrote these words I wish to share with you today:
I believe in giggling little children, their bright shining eyes, and their busy little hands, and their zest for knowledge...I believe in old people, with their half closed eyes, stooped over bodies, wrinkled idle hands, and their knowledge...and I believe in God.
I believe in the awakening of each sunny day, the green fields, the sound of singing birds, the smell of flowers, a bubbling brook, and the beginning of life...I also believe in cold damp days, the color of gray, the stillness in the air, the smell of nothingness, and the beginning of another life...and I believe in God.
I believe in bushy haired people, with black shining skin, the distant look in their eyes, and the cry of hope in their songs...I believe in red, white,brown, yellow...and in rainbows...and I believe in God.
I believe in listening to the sounds of laughter, a muffled cry, and of silence...and I believe if my ears are deaf to these sounds, they are still to be heard...and I believe in God.
I believe in praying in times of joy and laughter, in times of sorrow, pain, loneliness, and silence...and in being held, laughed with, cried with...and just being with...and I believe in God.
I believe in loving, to reach out and embrace the world and its creatures...and I believe that I am loved, that I am very precious and dear to someone...and I believe in God.
Sister Hilda Blade
And for those of you who read my other blog, "No, I am not going senile. I did not forget posting this about six months ago over there. But I am feeling these words at a deeper level of my being; and I want them over here with me - where I am - if that makes any sense."
And I also feel compelled to add these words to the lovely ones written by Sister Blade:
And I believe in teenagers, even when they are pushing all my buttons, even while I am responding with all the fury of Hades...and I believe God understands and loves me and them just the same.
She was the first (and only) person to tell me that it is okay to feel angry with God; and it is okay to express that anger to him.
A strange message to the ears of a person who was raised Catholic; and who grew up in a family where anger or any other strong emotion was not acceptable.
I understand, at a deeper level now, why it is okay to feel and express that anger to God - because lying buried beneath that anger is the gentleness of Love longing to see the light of day - longing to be experienced and expressed to others.
That same nun wrote these words I wish to share with you today:
I believe in giggling little children, their bright shining eyes, and their busy little hands, and their zest for knowledge...I believe in old people, with their half closed eyes, stooped over bodies, wrinkled idle hands, and their knowledge...and I believe in God.
I believe in the awakening of each sunny day, the green fields, the sound of singing birds, the smell of flowers, a bubbling brook, and the beginning of life...I also believe in cold damp days, the color of gray, the stillness in the air, the smell of nothingness, and the beginning of another life...and I believe in God.
I believe in bushy haired people, with black shining skin, the distant look in their eyes, and the cry of hope in their songs...I believe in red, white,brown, yellow...and in rainbows...and I believe in God.
I believe in listening to the sounds of laughter, a muffled cry, and of silence...and I believe if my ears are deaf to these sounds, they are still to be heard...and I believe in God.
I believe in praying in times of joy and laughter, in times of sorrow, pain, loneliness, and silence...and in being held, laughed with, cried with...and just being with...and I believe in God.
I believe in loving, to reach out and embrace the world and its creatures...and I believe that I am loved, that I am very precious and dear to someone...and I believe in God.
Sister Hilda Blade
And for those of you who read my other blog, "No, I am not going senile. I did not forget posting this about six months ago over there. But I am feeling these words at a deeper level of my being; and I want them over here with me - where I am - if that makes any sense."
And I also feel compelled to add these words to the lovely ones written by Sister Blade:
And I believe in teenagers, even when they are pushing all my buttons, even while I am responding with all the fury of Hades...and I believe God understands and loves me and them just the same.
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Prayer Request
I received this in my email this morning. I tried to publish the entire email as written but couldn't manage to do it.I was finally able to download one of the pictures that accompanied the email and this is the prayer request that came with it:
Life in Iraq and Afghanistan is very difficult to bear right now.
Our troops need our prayers for strength, endurance, safety.
"Lord, hold our troops in your loving hands. Protect them as they protect us. Bless them and their families for the selfless acts they perform for us. Amen."
Of all the gifts you could give a Soldier, Sailor, Airman, or Marine deployed in harm's way, prayer is the very best.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Akiane
Yesterday the path that I was exploring introduced me to Akiane - a child prodigy, artist, and poet. She is considered an Indigo Child - a term that was new to me.
I really wanted to share her with you but my computer security systems combined with my lack of expertise would not allow me to download the video.
The best I can do is provide you with the address to check out if you are so inclined:
www.video.google.com/videoplay?docid=6353938388814614154
She blows my mind with her gift.
I really wanted to share her with you but my computer security systems combined with my lack of expertise would not allow me to download the video.
The best I can do is provide you with the address to check out if you are so inclined:
www.video.google.com/videoplay?docid=6353938388814614154
She blows my mind with her gift.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Around The Bog
Some of the pieces were starting to fall into place now - at least a few.
She understood why it was the autumn angel that came to accompany her on this part of the journey. Autumn is the power time of the moose.
It was about fourteen years ago that the moose first spoke to her. She saw him standing in that marsh a short distance from the mountain. That was when she realized, that despite his awkward beauty, he was the animal that resonated God's name for her.
She didn't see him again until three years ago - even though she kept her eyes open for him - hungered for the sight of him.
Even then, she didn't see him. She just felt his frustrated bull moose energy coming up from deep inside of her. She didn't like that feeling - wanted to escape that feeling - but there was no escape. Just tolerance. A learning to live with. Then finally the beginnings of a gentle acceptance.
Then out of the blue, a baby moose - wearing his buckskin muk-a-luks jumped into her arms and asked to come home with her. He asked if he could live with her for the rest of her days. She held him close to her - feeling his softness and his substance - all at the same time.
This is what she had spent her life looking for - longing for.
And now the old nun that despaired when her mind could not find the love she had once known;
found new joy as the baby moose showed her she was looking in the wrong place. The love hadn't left her - it had settled in her heart.
She understood why it was the autumn angel that came to accompany her on this part of the journey. Autumn is the power time of the moose.
It was about fourteen years ago that the moose first spoke to her. She saw him standing in that marsh a short distance from the mountain. That was when she realized, that despite his awkward beauty, he was the animal that resonated God's name for her.
She didn't see him again until three years ago - even though she kept her eyes open for him - hungered for the sight of him.
Even then, she didn't see him. She just felt his frustrated bull moose energy coming up from deep inside of her. She didn't like that feeling - wanted to escape that feeling - but there was no escape. Just tolerance. A learning to live with. Then finally the beginnings of a gentle acceptance.
Then out of the blue, a baby moose - wearing his buckskin muk-a-luks jumped into her arms and asked to come home with her. He asked if he could live with her for the rest of her days. She held him close to her - feeling his softness and his substance - all at the same time.
This is what she had spent her life looking for - longing for.
And now the old nun that despaired when her mind could not find the love she had once known;
found new joy as the baby moose showed her she was looking in the wrong place. The love hadn't left her - it had settled in her heart.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Life's Mystery
The old nun had lived by the rules her whole life. In fact, she strongly enforced them on herself and everybody else she came in contact with.
Rules that were never questioned - just enforced.
Beliefs that were never looked at - just lived.
The Love forced upon her by the young native girl and her cowboy friend circled round and round inside her brain - like a dog looking for a comfortable place to lay.
Finding none, he went looking elsewhere.
In her despair, she traded her black habit in for a royal purple one that fit much better and contained more of life's Mystery.
Rules that were never questioned - just enforced.
Beliefs that were never looked at - just lived.
The Love forced upon her by the young native girl and her cowboy friend circled round and round inside her brain - like a dog looking for a comfortable place to lay.
Finding none, he went looking elsewhere.
In her despair, she traded her black habit in for a royal purple one that fit much better and contained more of life's Mystery.
Monday, January 7, 2008
A Balanced Person
I had the mistaken notion that being "balanced" was always being "even-keeled".
For a person of extremes, like myself, that is next to impossible.
I am much more hopeful of "finding the balance" between extremes with someone else's definition of a balanced person being one who can move back and forth effectively between the two.
For a person of extremes, like myself, that is next to impossible.
I am much more hopeful of "finding the balance" between extremes with someone else's definition of a balanced person being one who can move back and forth effectively between the two.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
Life Without Answers
By the time I was twelve years old, you couldn't tell me anything. I already knew it all. Or so I thought.........
When I turned forty, I noticed that I knew less and less with each coming year.
Now that I am approaching sixty, I seem to be living my life more open-ended than ever. Gone is the need for answers that never proved to hold all the truth anyway. Gone is the need to believe that I know more than I do.
I am content to walk in faith - taking one step at a time - often with just enough light for the step that I am taking.
Hindsight has so often proved that I took the wisest steps for completely different reasons than I thought I was anyway.
When I turned forty, I noticed that I knew less and less with each coming year.
Now that I am approaching sixty, I seem to be living my life more open-ended than ever. Gone is the need for answers that never proved to hold all the truth anyway. Gone is the need to believe that I know more than I do.
I am content to walk in faith - taking one step at a time - often with just enough light for the step that I am taking.
Hindsight has so often proved that I took the wisest steps for completely different reasons than I thought I was anyway.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Life's Purpose
She was in her late nineties when I first met her. She walked with a walker - just needed you to walk behind her in case she lost her balance.
She had been a nurse in her working day. She and her husband had a very special relationship from the sounds of things; they never had any children. It was just the two of them.
She spent her early nineties taking care of him after he got Alzheimer's. She was able to keep him home until a week before he died - with pneumonia.
She was ready to go, too, when I met her. She couldn't figure out why she was still here. There was no purpose to her life that she could see.
But I see it different. There were three of us providing round-the-clock care for her. Three of us who were forever changed just from knowing her - just from getting to be in her world everyday.
Life isn't always full of busy-ness and hectic schedules. Part of everybody's life - if they live long enough will be full of days where nobody needs you - maybe even days where nobody even remembers that you are alive.
But as long as you are drawing breath, there is purpose to your life - even if you or nobody else knows what it is.
She was the most well-adjusted person I ever knew; and there's hardly a day goes by when I don't think about her for one reason or another - ten years later. Yes, she had grown tired of living without the man she loved; but she only shared that with you in a moment of confidence. She couldn't figure out why she was still here - another shared confidence.
Mostly she put all of herself into doing her best at whatever things she was still capable of doing. Her mobility was limited but she still read a lot of books, enjoyed watching certain television shows, and was willing to discuss anything sensibly and without judgement - no matter how controversial. And I will always remember how she was with anybody who came to visit her. She turned television off immediately and gave them her Undivided Attention - asking them questions about their life and listening - Really Listening to their answers.
Her life definitely had purpose - even if she didn't know what it was. And the purpose was probably different from day to day - moment to moment. But those last few years when she thought she was doing nothing worthwhile, she was teaching me and a couple other women how to grow old gracefully - how to get the most out of life when there doesn't seem to be any more to get - and how a conversation "should" take place between two people.
My life has been much richer ever since I had her in it. Anything I cope with "gracefully" today is because of her. Even surviving the loss of my husband; and rebuilding a life without him is partly because of her showing me it can be done. She's a part of every Real conversation I have.
More often than not, we have no knowledge of touching people the way she touched me, teaching people the way she taught me. We just have to accept (on faith) the fact that if we are still breathing, there is Purpose - and even if we don't know what it is - we should give it our best.
She had been a nurse in her working day. She and her husband had a very special relationship from the sounds of things; they never had any children. It was just the two of them.
She spent her early nineties taking care of him after he got Alzheimer's. She was able to keep him home until a week before he died - with pneumonia.
She was ready to go, too, when I met her. She couldn't figure out why she was still here. There was no purpose to her life that she could see.
But I see it different. There were three of us providing round-the-clock care for her. Three of us who were forever changed just from knowing her - just from getting to be in her world everyday.
Life isn't always full of busy-ness and hectic schedules. Part of everybody's life - if they live long enough will be full of days where nobody needs you - maybe even days where nobody even remembers that you are alive.
But as long as you are drawing breath, there is purpose to your life - even if you or nobody else knows what it is.
She was the most well-adjusted person I ever knew; and there's hardly a day goes by when I don't think about her for one reason or another - ten years later. Yes, she had grown tired of living without the man she loved; but she only shared that with you in a moment of confidence. She couldn't figure out why she was still here - another shared confidence.
Mostly she put all of herself into doing her best at whatever things she was still capable of doing. Her mobility was limited but she still read a lot of books, enjoyed watching certain television shows, and was willing to discuss anything sensibly and without judgement - no matter how controversial. And I will always remember how she was with anybody who came to visit her. She turned television off immediately and gave them her Undivided Attention - asking them questions about their life and listening - Really Listening to their answers.
Her life definitely had purpose - even if she didn't know what it was. And the purpose was probably different from day to day - moment to moment. But those last few years when she thought she was doing nothing worthwhile, she was teaching me and a couple other women how to grow old gracefully - how to get the most out of life when there doesn't seem to be any more to get - and how a conversation "should" take place between two people.
My life has been much richer ever since I had her in it. Anything I cope with "gracefully" today is because of her. Even surviving the loss of my husband; and rebuilding a life without him is partly because of her showing me it can be done. She's a part of every Real conversation I have.
More often than not, we have no knowledge of touching people the way she touched me, teaching people the way she taught me. We just have to accept (on faith) the fact that if we are still breathing, there is Purpose - and even if we don't know what it is - we should give it our best.
Friday, January 4, 2008
The Monk
He was austere in his piety, formidable in his girth, and above reproach in his actions - except for his forcefulness which he often used to beat spiritual truths into people's heads.
He could never understand why they all preferred to roll in the clover, dance among the daisies, or sleep around the clock.
Then, one day, he came upon some children playing by the brook. One boy was optimistically fishing for trout that didn't live there. Another boy was building a beautiful castle that tomorrow's rain would wash away. And the littlest one - a girl - was pouring tea for them from an empty teapot.
As he stood and watched, he remembered...... Innocence......Wonder......Awe.
He then remembered what it felt like to be truly alive.
And he walked home - a changed man.
He could never understand why they all preferred to roll in the clover, dance among the daisies, or sleep around the clock.
Then, one day, he came upon some children playing by the brook. One boy was optimistically fishing for trout that didn't live there. Another boy was building a beautiful castle that tomorrow's rain would wash away. And the littlest one - a girl - was pouring tea for them from an empty teapot.
As he stood and watched, he remembered...... Innocence......Wonder......Awe.
He then remembered what it felt like to be truly alive.
And he walked home - a changed man.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Swamp Angel
A few years ago, I stumbled across this children's book written by Anne Isaacs "Swamp Angel". It is about a Paul Bunyan type girl who single-handedly saves the settlers from a fearsome bear known as Thundering Tarnation.
Now any girl whose childhood hero was Mighty Mouse would not be able to resist such a book - and sure enough, the story lived up to my expectations - but the book itself is defective.
The second half of the book was put in upside down. It has created quite a quandary for me from the day I got it home. I keep wanting to get rid of the book because it is defective. But then I decide to read it one more time before parting with it. And, once again, I enjoy the story too much to part with the book.
Actually, when I think about that book and compare it with my life, the lesson it brings home by being defective makes it all the more valuable to me.
I look back over my life, remembering all my feeble attempts to "save the day" which failed miserably. I think of my more feeble attempts to save people from themselves which failed even more miserably. I ponder my hard-nosed attempts to force change on myself - which rates up there with "what I failed most horribly at".
So, it is very interesting to me that when I finally accepted my defectiveness, life as I know it became more beautiful. I find it odd that when somebody else authentically shows their defectiveness to me, I feel humbled and honored.
My mind now takes me back to a time when I loved a man unconditionally; and my inner world was filled with the delight known only to infants. And that memory encourages me to take another step closer towards loving myself - or at least accepting myself - defective as I am - even though my actions and attitudes make me feel less than loveable a lot of the time.
And what really blows my mind even more is how much good is accomplished when a person stops trying to Be more than what he is and just focuses on "Being Real in the moment" - being open to life "as it is" right where he finds himself today.
Now any girl whose childhood hero was Mighty Mouse would not be able to resist such a book - and sure enough, the story lived up to my expectations - but the book itself is defective.
The second half of the book was put in upside down. It has created quite a quandary for me from the day I got it home. I keep wanting to get rid of the book because it is defective. But then I decide to read it one more time before parting with it. And, once again, I enjoy the story too much to part with the book.
Actually, when I think about that book and compare it with my life, the lesson it brings home by being defective makes it all the more valuable to me.
I look back over my life, remembering all my feeble attempts to "save the day" which failed miserably. I think of my more feeble attempts to save people from themselves which failed even more miserably. I ponder my hard-nosed attempts to force change on myself - which rates up there with "what I failed most horribly at".
So, it is very interesting to me that when I finally accepted my defectiveness, life as I know it became more beautiful. I find it odd that when somebody else authentically shows their defectiveness to me, I feel humbled and honored.
My mind now takes me back to a time when I loved a man unconditionally; and my inner world was filled with the delight known only to infants. And that memory encourages me to take another step closer towards loving myself - or at least accepting myself - defective as I am - even though my actions and attitudes make me feel less than loveable a lot of the time.
And what really blows my mind even more is how much good is accomplished when a person stops trying to Be more than what he is and just focuses on "Being Real in the moment" - being open to life "as it is" right where he finds himself today.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
The Last Rose Of Summer
'TIS THE LAST ROSE OF SUMMER
Tis the last rose of summer,
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone;
No flower of her kindred,
No rosebud is nigh,
To reflect back her blushes,
Or give sigh for sigh!
I'll not leave thee, thou lone one,
To pine on the stem;
Since the lovely are sleeping,
Go sleep thou with them.
Thus kindly I scatter
Thy leaves o'er the bed
Where thy mates of the garden
Lie scentless and dead.
So soon may I follow,
When friendship decay,
And from Love's shining circle
The gems drop away!
When true hearts lie withered.
And fond ones are flown,
Oh! who would inhabit
This bleak world alone?
- Thomas Moore
Tis the last rose of summer,
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone;
No flower of her kindred,
No rosebud is nigh,
To reflect back her blushes,
Or give sigh for sigh!
I'll not leave thee, thou lone one,
To pine on the stem;
Since the lovely are sleeping,
Go sleep thou with them.
Thus kindly I scatter
Thy leaves o'er the bed
Where thy mates of the garden
Lie scentless and dead.
So soon may I follow,
When friendship decay,
And from Love's shining circle
The gems drop away!
When true hearts lie withered.
And fond ones are flown,
Oh! who would inhabit
This bleak world alone?
- Thomas Moore
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Life As A Work Of Art
My friend and spiritual mentor paints. One day when we were talking on the phone, she told me she had just finished painting some pictures that were spiritually inspired but she didn't know who they were of.
She described the first picture which was of a woman. As she described the painting to me, I knew without a doubt that it was a picture of me. It had all the elements of some of my recent dreams and also a symbol of the powerlessness I had experienced in the past.
She had done a couple other pictures at the same time - they were part man and part animal. I recognized those pictures also from her description - a person who is on the same road I am on. Our spiritual paths resonate with some of the same vibrations.
My friend gave me the paintings - the one of me was my Christmas present. The other two were to be passed along to the person they were meant for.
She also loaned me a book - "Joy Lasts" by Sister Wendy Beckett. I thought it was a strange book for her to lend me because it is about the spiritual in art; and I have no ability in that area. But I have learned not to question anything she does. I knew there would be something in that book that I was meant to read, and could apply to my life. I was not mistaken.
In describing a particular painting, Sister Beckett uses these words, "This is pure image, moving us to our depths with its beauty and integrity, its passion for truth, its sense of wonder. The longer we look at......the more profoundly it will reveal to us our own potential for depth, perhaps our need for integrity."
Who among us has not experienced the painful longing for something we can not even put into words....a longing we keep trying to find some tangible thing to satisfy it with.....but it grows and grows....until at last we face the fact that this hunger can never be satisfied with anything we will find in the material world.
It is a Soul Hunger.....a Cry from the inner depths of our being.....a cry for Expression....a Need for a life lived with truth and integrity.....the kind of life that Fills us with awe and wonder.....the kind of life that fills us with a State of Grace.
She described the first picture which was of a woman. As she described the painting to me, I knew without a doubt that it was a picture of me. It had all the elements of some of my recent dreams and also a symbol of the powerlessness I had experienced in the past.
She had done a couple other pictures at the same time - they were part man and part animal. I recognized those pictures also from her description - a person who is on the same road I am on. Our spiritual paths resonate with some of the same vibrations.
My friend gave me the paintings - the one of me was my Christmas present. The other two were to be passed along to the person they were meant for.
She also loaned me a book - "Joy Lasts" by Sister Wendy Beckett. I thought it was a strange book for her to lend me because it is about the spiritual in art; and I have no ability in that area. But I have learned not to question anything she does. I knew there would be something in that book that I was meant to read, and could apply to my life. I was not mistaken.
In describing a particular painting, Sister Beckett uses these words, "This is pure image, moving us to our depths with its beauty and integrity, its passion for truth, its sense of wonder. The longer we look at......the more profoundly it will reveal to us our own potential for depth, perhaps our need for integrity."
Who among us has not experienced the painful longing for something we can not even put into words....a longing we keep trying to find some tangible thing to satisfy it with.....but it grows and grows....until at last we face the fact that this hunger can never be satisfied with anything we will find in the material world.
It is a Soul Hunger.....a Cry from the inner depths of our being.....a cry for Expression....a Need for a life lived with truth and integrity.....the kind of life that Fills us with awe and wonder.....the kind of life that fills us with a State of Grace.
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