The fading image in my rear-view mirror

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Like the perfect piece of baker’s chocolate, today will be bittersweet.  I am comfortably ensconced in a chair in my office, shrouded by four very familiar walls that are situated on a property that I could maneuver my way around with my eyes closed.  But today is my last day in this place.

A big part of my life has been spent exploring every facet of the 408 acres that make up this resort property.  From my humble beginnings in 1986 I have cleaned every single one of the 158 rooms on numerous occasions, I have served hundreds of people in its dining room, I have greeted hundreds more at the front desk and I have encouraged thousands to vacation here.  My car could drive itself from home to office after the numerous trips we have made together down this winding Muskoka road.

This home away from home has been the site of many experiences for me, some fantastic and some tragic.  This job was not just a job.  This place gave me the tools to grow, not only as an employee and a boss, but as a person.  This place introduced me to many people I consider an extended part of my family.  From staff to hotel guests, the connections I have made here will last a lifetime.

cleves water front

(image credit: http://www.clevelandshouse.com)

But the time has come to change the landscape I see on my drive to work.  Although the splendor of the Muskoka beauty will still be seen through each of my car windows, the shadows that dance on the road before me will be different.  The path that my tires follow will be not be naturally carved in the pavement leading me to the walls that contain so many memories.   This new path will take time to feel as comfortable but I’m sure it will lead me to just as much happiness.

As the image of a lifetime fades in my rear-view mirror, the path ahead is waiting to welcome me with open arms and begin the journey of making new memories.

The Call of Nature

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I’ve had these pictures on my phone for a while and wanted to share them.

a crack in the armor

A crack in the armor of ice.

ice

Intricate patterns in the early morning freeze on my patio table.

ring around the sun

Ring around the sun.

patterns

Hashtag in the sky.

ominous whisps

The atmosphere air-brushed the sky.

criss cross

Same effect in lighter shades.

morning glory

A stunning sky to ease me into the morning.

Mom

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mom-holding-baby

She birthed me and swaddled me,

she showered me with love.

Her arms always embraced me,

they fit me like a glove.

Her words were the only ones,

that could help to heal my scars.

Hers was the only light,

that would comfort me in the dark.

She woke me up to play with me,

she laughed at all my jokes.

She sang with me to old musicals,

although she couldn’t hold the notes.

Her faith in my abilities,

has stood the test of time.

She’s the portrait of what a mother should be,

and I’m glad that she is mine.

So, here’s to you, mom, on this special day,

my love for you has no end.

You’re my giver of life, my confidant,

and will always be my best friend.

Happy Mother’s Day.

Blogger – diagnose thy self

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We all have symptoms of possible afflictions that we try to diagnose ourselves.  If you are anything like me, your computer is powered on and you are searching on Google or Bing for probable illnesses that match the symptoms you are experiencing.

Lately, I have been suffering sleepless nights, lack of concentration at work and stiff joints in my neck and wrists.  After a myriad of suggestions from those online medical gurus, I have stepped outside of the clinical box and diagnosed myself with I.B.S. – Insatiable Blogging Syndrome.

The creative part of my brain seems to be enlarged and is causing me to wake in the middle of the night with the ideas that are spilling from the cracks caused by the swelling.  The only relief is to free the idioms that seem to be the source of the contusions.  Those lacerations perpetuate my inability to focus on life outside of the blogosphere and cause me to sit at my laptop for hours at a time reading the words of others while trying to deftly craft my own.  Daily routines and writing my novel fade into the background as the myriad of blog ideas rush through my veins to the forefront of my mind.

left-brain-right-brain

(image credit: performance-rules.com)

Short of a lobotomy, there is no known cure for Insatiable Blogging Syndrome.  I am a victim of its temporary paralysis and subsequent mood swings caused by the inability to focus on anything but stringing sentences together to create some semblance of entertainment and meaning.  In the face of adversity, I shall “soldier on” as my mom used to say.  I will not let this unstudied medical ailment affect my ability to lead a normal life.

Until there is a cure, those words, those personifications and idioms dripping with color will continue to attack my brain with fervor.  I am a victim to its grace and tenacity.  I am a writer.

Karma

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There are several familiar expressions with which humankind uses to describe the same outcome. Whether it be “Live by the sword, die by the sword” or “what goes around, comes around”, they converge on each other and intertwine to form a common thread that we all weave into our lives.  That common thread is called Karma.

Karma is part of the law of cause and effect, and it chooses how and when to seek its retribution.  It may come back to haunt you in a swift and effective charge, it may linger in the shadows and creep in when you least expect it, or, if you believe in reincarnation, it may wreak its havoc in your next go around.  Regardless of when it rears its ugly head, it will seek you out and serve up a dish of revenge that is best served cold.   It is calculating and it is manipulative, but those adjectives may best describe the actions that led Karma to finding you in the first place.

Karma is not a superstitious hypothesis.  I believe we each create our own luck, be it good or bad luck.  Karma is energy, a life force that gets its momentum from the vibrations we put out into the world.   And it is not just about negative energy and paybacks.  Karma works just as well on the opposite side of the energy spectrum.  Good deeds done selflessly tend to have Karma smile favorably upon us as opposed to hunting us like wounded prey and going in for the kill.

The Golden Rule, or as I discovered another name, The Ethic of Reciprocity (which sounds way more fun) -is this - do unto others, as you would have done to you – such a simple string of words with such a profound outcome.  You’ve seen it in action on the smallest scale when you give a smile to a stranger and they immediately smile back.   Positive Karma results from positive states of mind and positive actions.

As this is the year that I vowed to keep a positive attitude, I am putting my good karmic vibrations into the atmosphere.  Maybe, if we all focus enough positivity into the atmosphere, a small trickle of good energy can transform itself, one person at a time, and gain enough momentum to become a waterfall.

 

(image credit: world-beautifulwallpapers.blogspot.com)

Geography doesn’t separate friends

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I consider myself an extremely lucky person.  I am fortunate enough to call many people friends and have them reciprocate the sentiment.  There was a saying I remember hearing as a teenager that really stuck with me –  ”Friends are the family you choose for yourself”.

Earth-May3

(image credit: planet–earth.ca)

My friends are scattered far and wide.  Some I get to spend many hours with and share ideals and laughter, and others are located in other cities, provinces and countries, even continents.  Some I have never met face to face.  We share the same ideals and laughter, but we do it through cyber space and across the blogosphere.

There are no lines of latitude or longitude that can divide a friendship.  Those relationships can span time and distance and there is great comfort knowing that the strength in those friendships gives us the ability to pick up where we left off even after months of being apart.

I have received an overwhelming amount of support from all of my friends, near and far.  Whether they are known in my physical reality or in my cyber reality, the strength and encouragement I have been given has been monumental to getting me through a very trying month.

I wanted to say thank you to all of my friends for really being there for me and sending your words of love and optimism.  Although by kilometers and miles we may seem worlds apart, your words bring you close and keep you in my heart.

Over forty and feeling…..broken

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Forty may be the new twenty, but I don’t think my body got that memo.   I used to be able to handle stress much better, not that I had the stress I have in my forties, but the carriage that houses my soul never used to show signs of that stress.  I would bounce back and be prepared for the next onslaught of tension, armed and ready to kill that dragon.

These days, I am not as fortunate.  The knots of stress seem to locate the weakest parts of my body and finds the forty-something-year-old muscles far more inviting.  Like an unwanted house guest, it settles in, makes itself comfortable and it chooses to stay for a while.

About a month and a half ago I injured my knee while shoveling snow.  Who knew an activity so benign could leave such a lasting injury?  The pain subsided and temporarily vanished, but every so often it flares up again and I am currently moving slower than some of my mom’s new acquaintances in the retirement home.

I have yet to go to the doctor, but that trip is looming.  The male part of my brain had me convinced that the temple that is my body would heal itself, but that seems far-fetched as I hobble around my house this morning, wishing I had a cane.  In my self-diagnosis, compliments of Google, I realized that I have most likely torn the meniscus in my right knee.   It could be a minor tear but could also lead to surgery if not properly diagnosed and healed.

cane

(image credit: oralchelation.com)

Today, for me, forty feels more like the new sixty but I am determined not to let this affliction get the best of me.  I will beat stress and injury into submission with determination, tenacity and a borrowed cane!

Before the storm – Romantic Monday

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before-the-storm-logo

Thunder clouds in the distance

the promise of a storm to come

his touch is firm on my flesh

the earth is waiting to succumb

to the reign of terror in the sky

the promise of a fury unleashed

the air is electric, feelings are charged

mother nature is in control of the beast

blue sky falls into the abyss

the ceiling of night turns to gray

energy ignites with the coming storm

feelings, for now, are at bay

his grip remains strong on my skin

his eyes search for the sign

thunder crashes, lightning explodes

the moods begin to align

I turn to him under mottled clouds

the earth opens its spring

water cascades over exposed flesh

the symphony of love starts to sing

his touch brings more power

than the lightning casts from the sky

bodies churn in the shower of rain

under the cover of nigh

before the storm the feeling lived

but now its fury is unleashed

hands roam, bodies entwine

the power of nature is released

his body is mine, and mine is his

the storm can not debate

 the true love felt under stormy skies

the honesty of love will not wait

~

Romantic Monday seems to inspire the poet in me.   I took the subject line literally and the storm seemed to bring something out in me.  Thanks Edward Hotspur!

All the world is a stage

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I pondered this subject line quite a bit this morning and never realized, until now, how we really do play to an audience for most of our lives.  We play the role of the child, the sibling, the friend, the spouse, the partner, the parent, the employee and sometimes the boss.  But it is not until we are sheltered in the comfort of our homes that we become our true selves.  We are stripped of our costumes, the make-up is washed off, the warts come out, the facade is cracked and we are able to be who we truly are with no one to judge us and bombard us with their expectations.

There are moments we glorify with outward happiness when we second guess the cause of that jubilation.  There are times we feign sadness when we are unaffected by the emotion.  We play the role, but we play it to the best of our ability because, as human beings, we know that we need to portray those emotions to help us feel what others feel and give them a sense of understanding.  And in certain moments, we are honestly affected by the circumstance that created those feelings.  Empathy is a strong emotion and those affected with it, as I am, may disagree with my thought process.  But as a truly empathetic person I, too, have been a victim of over-acting a part to assuage the despair of others.

RymanStage

(image credit: nashvilleonthemove.com)

We choose a role and the stage is set.  The lights dim and the scene begins.  We act to the best of our ability and ride on the wave of emotion that is written on the pages.  We feed on the feeling of the other actors on our stage and we are swept up in the roles that were created for us.  We act and we react.  The world is undoubtedly our stage.  During moments of our performance, the spotlights blind us but we act the required part to the best of our ability.

For many, being a performer is a reality that they will never escape.  They feel the need to fit a role and go through the motions day in and day out, never achieving the moment that they can truly break from character and just be who they are.  The simple pleasures in life sometimes escape us while we concentrate on the part we are meant to be playing.

Break from character – rewrite the scene and cast yourself in the role that you want to play.  If you can allow yourself the freedom to escape from the grand performance, even if only briefly, you can play your part with greater honesty on a stage that you created.

Impossible is two letters too long

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I’ve never been one to shy away from a challenge.   I have lived under the premise that if it’s worth having, it’s worth fighting for, and that has served me well.  Like removing the word “can’t” from my vocabulary, I also try never to utter the word “impossible”.

When my dad was still with us, not a day went by that he didn’t mention the phrase – where there’s a will, there’s a way – and I adopted that idiom rather quickly.  I learned my survival skills and my desire to succeed by heeding the wisdom of that small string of words.  By keeping that will fed and nourished, the two letters that may have impeded the possible slowly fall into the alphabet once again and all things are attainable.

alphabet

(image credit: 123freevectors.com)

When I begin any new task, the thought never crosses my mind that I will fail at that particular undertaking.  The final product may not be the desired result, but a reasonable facsimile is still an encouraging beginning.  I dive headfirst into the endeavor and face the dragon head on because the reward comes from trying.  Failure can only come from not attempting the initial project.

All things are possible and the only time I will use the letters “I” and “M” are to say I’m going to try my best!