The Takeaway

Each day this week I have tried to take stock and pay attention to 1 takeaway a day, a blessing, you could say.

Monday – a bird on our front lawn, helping us get rid of the chaff to uncover new grass, stopping every few steps and collecting for her nest.

Tuesday – the weather perfect for my lunch break walk, I spotted two killdeer in conversation at the edge of the road. Carefully walking and crossing to the other side (as to not startle them), they were beak to beak and then calmly turned to head down to the stream with another 2 that were waiting.

Wednesday – the deer popped out in front of me and I almost hit her. Looking back into the rear view mirror was deer #2. She had waited. (Whew!)

Thursday – I had to fast before blood work. Aggravating a bit, I stopped into the local mini market for coffee to complete the morning ritual but at work. I got to work and took a sip. It was the best I’ve tasted in quite awhile.

These are my takeaways, blessings if you will. Share yours below.

Go ahead!

Quarantined April 16, 2020

I started the day with my usual, now for the new “usual.” Padding across April snowfall, just enough to clean up the mud look, with a second coffee cup, a bottle of wine (no, not for now, but the rule is you can’t go to the new house empty handed), and today I remember my flashlight, I entered my new home. Already the concept of 5 am coffee, based upon impulsive behavior on my part, is tiring.

But, here I am, my journal, my pen, my sacred book of prayers I write when I need them. Here’s one: “Sit with your feelings, letting them say what they have to say.” Now, quite often, when I have the negative thoughts, mostly replays of the past and mistakes that were made, I wallow and push them away, embarrassed that I was so beyond stupid. Today I interpret it as “allow them. It’s okay to face them.” This is all a part of who we are. I have learned, recently, of the need to accept even the negative, to allow myself to love myself, in spite of me. It’s who I am, no need for shame. Yes, it’s still a tough lesson, because I don’t really like that part of me, so I want to bury it so no one else sees it.

Remember the rules I started the other day? Rule 4 is Quit getting lost in the past or future. All that really exists is now. So I can quit worrying about judging myself, and I shouldn’t worry too aggressively about the future, I need to enjoy TODAY.

So, here are the “rules.” For further investigation https://lonerwolf.com/inner-peace/

Enjoy your today.

The Dreamer

I was reading about dreams in the wee hours of the morning, sleep escaping through the lashes of my lids, as the cold wind brought the change of weather.

I did go into a lucid thought of Dad saying something as he was working on perhaps a repair, in a brief spot of dream, but it did not stay, I was awake!

Some dreams are nonsense, others create a deja vu later. Some, if you are fortunate (or not), are clairvoyant, and some prophetic.

Mine are a little clairvoyant, I think. Probably because they involve the dear departed to me: a grandmother, a grandfather I never met (and did not resemble any of his pictures, by the way), a friend here and there, that have come at odd times.

At any rate, it appears half the night was dreamless, as I awaited All Souls’ Day!

Fanning My Flame

Surrounded by the comforts of my ancestors, words from the philosophies of Emerson and Thoreau, I am reminded of who I am and where my soul thrives. All of the outside world fades, for just this brief moment of time, and I fan the flame called my soul, into a roaring fire that drives me forward into 2019 and shows me that happiness is right here, inside of me.

You Pop!

I think I may have had a revelation in the wee hours of this morning.

Now and then I read about slowly waking up and becoming aware of your surroundings. I don’t. I just POP and I’m awake. I never even realize I’m awake, I just am. My thoughts do not idly turn toward the day. They just are. A mile a minute. Then the cats come up to pretend their snuggle, when in reality they want to be fed now. I’ve got to hand it to them, they are shrewd!

Anyway, I’m thinking that this is what happens when you die. You don’t slowly and painfully realize it, you just are. You don’t even arrive bag in hand and say “where am I?” You just are there. It’s so ordinary it’s probably too profound to realize.

I’m guessing that my friend, Ruth, went through that. She had a cold (flu?) and wanted the comfort of her cot by her wood stove. She had her tea and her daughter helped her lay down. She shuffled to become comfortable. She slept. I can just see her now popping up and saying, “oh!” and looking around her. And then she got up and, I don’t know where she went, but assume she resumed her journey into afterlife. It would be nice to run into her and talk about it, but I’m not sure that happens. I know I will find out!

“Oh shoot! I should write about this! Let others know!” are my first thoughts (hence this post). Heck, I bet you don’t need me to tell you that. We will all find out on our own! I’m only letting you know in case you have concern, and just want you to rest easy. It will be okay.

It’s Magic

Life is magical, don’t waste it.

Life is magical, work it out.

Embrace it. Don’t let it go. It’s all you’ve got. No one else can see it like you do. No one else can wave your wand.

Love it.

For the Love of Music

Music touches the soul.  It calms the nerves, it brings and recalls tears of sorrow, tears of joy.  It releases love into the Spirit and into the air.

My soul needed a special touch, as I have been too busy with the horizontal to consider the vertical lately.  What was I to do?

I found a documentary this morning that appealed to me on YouTube.  John Philip Sousa.  I was introduced to Sousa through high school marching band, under the direction of Mr. Richard Herfort.  Band members struggled, while loved, The Thunderer, Trombones Triumphant, The Washington Post, and Stars and Stripes Forever.  I entered a wonderful trip down my own memory lane, while watching this fascinating documentary, a PBS production.  Memories of watching Ronald Demkee conduct the Allentown Band (and he was a marvelous part of this documentary), but the one that continues to choke me up, after close to 40 years ago, is my own memory of me and my husband in the audience, on a blanket, at the outdoor Mann Music Center of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and Henry Mancini conducting The Stars and Stripes Forever.  Conductor Mancini went over and picked up the piccolo and played the solo.  I choke as I write, tears spring to my eyes, and I cannot speak without the catch in my throat.

This should be our theme, America.

After This

The throbbing question is, “will I remember me when I am gone, if I can’t remember me before now?”

“Is this the glass darkly?”

Only I will know. Or I will sleep.

2018 The Year Ahead

What is our world, if we have not the encouraging word?

Act singly, and what you have already done singly will justify you now. The force of character is cumulative. –Ralph Waldo Emerson

Step out. Be true to yourself. Do not hurt others, do good to all. Then peace will come.

Stuck in the 60s Tonight

I got stuck in the 60s tonight. I watched one of my favorites: The Newlywed Game. All of them. On YouTube. I admired the bride’s hair: the big beehive ‘do. The mascara and eye shadow. The California lifestyle.

Do you remember that game? We would play it by the hour. You’d draw a chart, naming your choices of places to live, boys’ names (to marry), a car to drive and a career. I cannot remember the counting formula, perhaps one of my readers can. Anyway, count away and you’d find your destiny.

I think I always had choices of California, Florida, or … I don’t remember having any other! Maybe I chose Hawaii. But certainly not my home town.

I’m not sure of his profession, but it was the man’s profession, for sure.

I do not remember the rest. I’m sure a color and a car were significant.

I will always remember how I thought the best place in the world had to be California. I was definitely a California girl. In my dreams.

I’m 61. My dreams have changed. Oh sure, I have visited California. A Californian friend even stated that there is no other place in the world to live! But I do admit, i love my small village I returned to, I love my farm and I love (even more) my farmer, who makes life worthwhile and every day a priceless treasure! (Thank you, Ross).

Still, there is a little girl…and her little girl dreams….