friendship, humor, inspiration, life lessons, mindfulness, music

Trip The Light

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I’m sitting in the kitchen, shaking my head with disbelief that we’re already well on our way to one-hundred plus degrees with enough humidity to make the air feel like a soupy custard concoction.  My brother-in-law is somewhere touring Civil War sites and I keep wondering if he’s actually breathing during these treks, or whether he’s just driving around in air-conditioned comfort (I know he’s engaged in the former – a great guy, if not a little crazy).

Even the trees are beginning to tire – sagging as they typically do toward the end of August, when they’ve had enough of the season and are bowing their heads, laying low until the cooler September days arrive.  The birds are limiting their conversations to the pre-dawn and post-sunset hours – and typically they gossip with each other all day (if we think that our lives can mimic a soap opera, I have a feeling that the birds have it all over us).  Even the Sirs have had it – when I take them out, they sort of look at me like I’m kidding.

 

So where’s a person to go to get her happy on?  Right here.  I’m restricting myself to songs that make me smile, books with happy endings and ice-cold water.  I read Simon Marsh’s blog this morning and felt humbled by his grace,  grateful for his friendship and transported by his enthusiastic love for life’s unintended beauty.  HelpMeRhonda posted some crazy pictures of attack flies that swarmed her truck while she was out with her dad.  The gift of being with her dad resonates more with me – though the flies did make me wonder what could happen if Mother Nature gets any more ticked off.   David Kanigan continues to set a bar that is so high, I just keep going to the gym to see if I can stretch my muscles far enough so I can at least touch it on tip-toes.

I can kvetch with the best, but I’m choosing to sing.  I can slog through this day or I can dance – I’m a better dancer than I am a slogger.  And certainly I laugh far more heartily than I snivel.  Don’t get me wrong – I’m definitely holed up in the air conditioning while I trip the light fantastic, but today I’m going to trip all over myself within the confines of my house.  And if you’re wondering what to do with a spare moment in your day – here’s an idea..it’s time to party somewhere in the world, so you might as well get up and dance.

 

friendship, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness

Still Learning..

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It seems only right to acknowledge that there are lessons one can learn daily.  This presumes of course that a) you’re looking for them, b) you have the luxury of stopping long enough to internalize them and c) you limit the distortion of your perceptions so that you don’t walk around thinking you know everything already.

Rather than write about the weekend in totality, I think I’m just going to share some of the more powerful takeaways…

– I can’t explain the existence of angels that sit on my shoulder any more than I can explain their alter egos jumping up and down like maniacs on the other.  What do you make of an email from a friend you have never met, reaching out to you because of a sense that you’re blue?  Hundreds of miles separate us,  I wouldn’t recognize her if we passed each other on the street – yet, we are connected in some inexplicable way that gave her clear, unfettered access to my heart on Sunday morning.  She wrote to check in; she just ‘had a feeling’…How incredible are moments like that?  How do you not feel that there is much about the universe that just defies explanation, but demands our gratitude?  And how stupid would we be if we didn’t stop to feel thankful?  Friends are gifts that are given to us – they have different parameters; different ‘past due dates’ – in that some will last for a while, others forever, some enter through a door you didn’t even know was open, and some need to move along for reasons that may or may not have anything to do with you.  Never ignore the presence of an angel’s wings – you’ll feel them against your check, as soft as a breeze, reminding you that you are connected to something far larger than you can imagine.  Yes Lori – I’m writing to you – with full heart and awe that you knew…

–  While walking by a crafts store I saw a listing of open positions for which they were hiring.  One title caught my eye – “Replenishment Associate”.  I think this means ‘stock clerk’.  And I suppose that I am a ‘domestic goddess’.  With this change in title, I now expect to be treated with greater deference.

 

–  My nephews are delicious, though I have learned that it is a bit unwieldy to have a 19-year-old sit in your lap or hold a 22-year-old in the same way you held him when he was two.  You do love them just as hard though..

– Your family may define you in one way, but it doesn’t define you in all ways.  Having most of my cousins over on Saturday reminded me how small our family has become, that there is still mystery inherent to birth order, and position within a familial hierarchy doesn’t change.  In most ways, you remain exactly in the same place – which can be both comforting and disquieting.  It is easy to succumb to a lot of the feelings of self-doubt and isolation that reside in the far corners of memory.  And as you slowly retire from those recesses and come back to yourself, there is nothing like having your sister there to remind you of the here and now, your sons to hug you one minute longer than necessary and your husband quickly anchor you and make sure you don’t  fly too far away.  If you look for reasons to feel loved or reasons to feel lonely, you will find both – choose love.

 

life lessons, mindfulness

Letting It Go

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I don’t do anger well.  Never have.  When I get angry, I get quieter and quieter and draw inward.  Yelling and loud noises upend me, looks of fury frighten me and perhaps as a result I don’t  ‘fight fair’.  I can’t engage at times like that.  Words may be said that can never be retracted, always remembered with a flinch and perhaps causing emotional damage that can’t be repaired.  So I withdraw –  my tendency is to wait until the timing is better, deliberating my delivery perhaps for days.

There are some people who can let it out and let it go, trusting that their words will be taken in context, perhaps offering an apology thereafter, perhaps not.  I have a hard time with forgiveness in those situations.  I am not a quick healer.  I resent (or perhaps envy?) the confidence it must take to throw emotional caution to the fates and risk so much.

This isn’t about temperament as much as it is about the importance of getting past such moments that leave us breathless and conflicted.  There is a skill in letting something really go, losing the anger before it builds into some large, unwieldy fire-breathing dragon in your stomach, invading all pleasurable thought and spreading with virulence.  Clearly, I’m still a work in progress in a gazillion ways – and learning that I can be damaging my spirit, my sense of well-being by perseverating over moments and people who have made me angry – is a lesson still to be absorbed.  The thought that no one is hurting me more than me, by waiting and stewing and ultimately holding something toxic in my soul, is a reminder that bears repeating.

What about you?  Where do you fit on the anger/forgiveness scale?  How good are you to yourself when the inevitable happens and someone you love totally ticks you off?

friendship, humor, life lessons

Entering Through The Exit..

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..or something like that.  You slogged through my morning rant  – thank you.  In return I give you one of my more embarrassing moments to underscore the importance of paying attention to the details, even if you are a ‘big picture’ kinda person.

Whenever I visited our offices in London, I stayed on the same floor, followed the same path to and from the elevators, the coffee-room, the loo.  I knew how to get access to the stairwells for every so often, physical exercise took priority over waiting for the lift with a cup of takeaway from Cafe Nero in hand.  Fair enough..

Until the one visit when I was sitting on the eighth floor.  I was next door to one of our DC associates who had recently transferred to the UK.  We would chat on and off during my week’s stay – he was a great young man with a rockin’ sense of humor and mischief.  Each day, I followed the same route that I knew – the floors were rectangular – eventually you’d get where you needed to be even if you have no sense of direction (I was born without this gene).

You know where this is going – all week, I visited the men’s room instead of the ladies.  I saw the urinal, which struck me as somewhat different from the ladies’ on the other floor, but thought little else about it.  I never saw another person while I was in there, though I did hear hand washing (a good sign I always think).  Friday morning, I thought I’d make one quick visit before leaving for the airport.  And I saw the little symbol that is universally known for ‘men’.  I ran back to my office and asked my US pal, if he had been watching me go to the wrong loo all week.  He of course busted out laughing, acknowledging that he had been waiting for me to put my glasses on and realize what I was doing.  I wish I could tell you that my mortification lasted for a long time – but he was laughing so hard and this was so typical of me – I just shook my head, blushing.   Little did I know this would become a local story in the London office for years to come, and someone routinely placed a large sign on the ladies’ room door when I was in town – bless their heart.  Don’t tell me you’ve never done something like that – of course you have, right?  Right?

friendship, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness, motivation

Stand By Me

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There has been some activity about a YouTube video that was recently posted showing the murder of a Mideastern woman named Najibia.  I haven’t seen the clip – my cowardice and horror renders me incapable of watching it.  That said, I have been told that it reveals members of the Taliban cheering and supporting her husband as he repeatedly shot her in the back of the head.  His reason?  Her ‘crime’?  There are no reasons one can conceive of;  there was no crime, for there was no mention of a trial.  To carry my sorrow one step farther, this murder was committed in the name of a religion.  It’s important to note up front that this isn’t a diatribe about the Taliban, one specific culture, etc.  It is about the reiterative chorus in the face of unspeakable acts as justifiable by religious belief.

I’m not sufficiently well-versed to write about religion.  My spiritual view is both simplistic and I’m sure there are those who feel I am wrong.  I know of no religion that isn’t predicated on love, grace and humanity.  I am not suggesting that there isn’t significant brutality in religious and global history – though each example underscores a lesson that we were intended to learn and can’t seem to permanently absorb.  We keep repeating ourselves.  Whether acts of cruelty are defined as acceptable by gender, sect, interpretation – we watch as people continue to be brutally killed, forced to act against their will, hearts mutilated by memories.

I don’t have answers – I can feel inadequate in my corner of the world, consciously ensuring that I walk gently on this earth and embrace love as a spiritual expectation that I honor.  And I know it isn’t enough.  I have to consider ways to do more.  And I have to remember that without hope, there’d be no miracle of another sunrise and another opportunity.

You may remember this video as part of a documentary “Playing For Change – Peace Through Music”.  It lifts us up to look in the mirror and see the best reflection of ourselves, it underscores that we are all composing this song as we go along.  And though we may not read from the same notes, love is as universal as ignorance.  And there perhaps is where God resides – in the longings of our heart.

friendship, inspiration, life lessons, love, mindfulness, music, parenting

In My Dream Last Night

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I think I’ve mentioned that I used to sing to my sons each night after stories and before bed (and before they would start goofing around with each other, climbing up and down the bunk bed, “Mommy, he won’t stay in his bed”, “Tell him to be quiet”, “Mommy?  Mommy? MOOOOOOOOM!!!”).  They typically picked ‘When You Wish Upon A Star’ or ‘Somewhere Over The Rainbow’.  I dreamed about this last night.  Their bedroom was decorated in a way that I wish I could have afforded, the lighting was different than the reality.  But those boys?  They looked as magical as little boys do, smelled of Johnson & Johnson shampoo, and were fetching in their He-Man pajamas.  I woke up with a wet pillow that I was holding so tightly I didn’t recognize at first what it was.  But I’m very glad it wasn’t a kid – I would’ve smothered him (or awoke to some serious screaming).

When Aaron and Theresa married last year, he and I met on the dance floor for ‘our’ dance.  And he whispered in my ear, “Mom, I’m gonna get you”…He did, he does,  he always will..

Wishing you a tranquil kinda Tuesday…