Category Archives: happiness

Cloudy with a chance of winter

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I was entertaining myself at work by going through all of the pictures I have stored on my phone and realized I had been hiding these awesome shots of what I love to photograph the most – clouds.

I love the wisps and the way the trees hold them in the frame.

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Clouds resembling a raging forest fire.

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I love, love, love the mixture of colors in these clouds.

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The first thing I saw in these clouds was the yellowish face on the right.  It looks like he is trying to blow the clouds away.

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And this was taken a few months ago, but I just love the texture in the sky.

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Birthday Wishes for a friend

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If you follow Sage Doyle you know how brilliant his writing is and how he puts his soul into his poetry.  Today is his birthday and I wanted to use this forum to wish him a happy day.

If I were close enough in geography to deliver a cake – it would look something like this.  Happy birthday, Friend!!

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(image credit: sweetelement.com)

Don’t rain on my parade

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You get the sensation – the sudden feeling of elation.  The world seems to rotate on an axis to simply line all of your stars in the perfect cosmic placement.  The sky seems to be saturated with a deeper hue of blue, the air seems crisper and more full of promise than you ever remember and you find yourself smiling for no particular reason.  Things are finally going your way.

And then it happens.  One person, and it only ever takes one, says something to make you doubt the happiness that you are feeling and that balloon of contentment bursts.  Random pieces of that blissful moment lay in tatters at your feet, the skies mottle and the heavens open up to rain on your parade.

It’s a perverse world we live in when we can let others dictate what should make us happy.  The moments that cause us to smile uncontrollably should be locked in a private vault, only to be shared with precious few that will understand the true feelings behind that blissful expression.   True happiness is a rare discovery and those that are fortunate to have found it should not have that perception marred by the opinions of anyone other than themselves.

Your steadfast belief in what truly makes you happy cannot be argued – by anyone.  It is your head, it is your heart and it is your soul that leads you to true euphoria.  Always carry an umbrella, and don’t let anyone rain on your parade.

Hollywood may have ruined it for me

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Admittedly, I have seen Sleepless in Seattle at least a dozen times.  For that matter, I will come clean and say that I have seen my fair share of romantic movies.  There is something truly endearing about the thought of being drawn to someone in the way that Meg Ryan was pulled across the country to find Tom Hanks.

We all love the feeling of being in love……the giddiness, the smiles at random times when you think of those cute moments and the contented feeling from knowing that someone reciprocates those feelings that you feel.  But all too often we find ourselves (at least I do) wishing that falling in love resembled something from the big screen.  We want the music score, we want the slow motion kiss…..we want to be in love in a movie.

Hollywood certainly knows how to dangle the bait of love stories to all of the hopeless romantics that wish their own fables of romance would emulate those on the big screen.  They make us want to fall in love in a way that is completely removed from the mundane realities of our own lives.  And although our lives may not seem at all ordinary, there is something exhilarating about falling in love the way they do in that scripted performance.

In reality, love will find us at random times and show itself in unique ways.  It may not mirror the effortless bliss they show on the big screen, but it is fraught with as much truth and depth as those moving pictures.  Love that we find in our own lives may come with more obstacles than are written in those quickly abating scenes or it may seem completely effortless, like it was written just for us.

Regardless of the circumstances, the love that we put our heart and soul into is the stuff that movies should be made of.  Listen to your own music score and write your own script – your love story could be better than anything you can watch at the theatre.

Better than a thousand hollow words

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cartoon balloonWhen I entered into this vast blogosphere I had no idea what to expect.  There was no anticipation of anything other than freeing the words in my head but along the way something magical happened.  After a few early posts I began receiving comments.  Some of these comments made me struggle to understand their meaning but most of the words were encouraging and inspiring.  Others contradicted the original intention of my post but made me think of my words from another perspective and how a chain of ideas may always have a broken link.

I am a creature of strange habits.  I began to save the email notifications of the comments.  I was unsure of why at the time but, tonight as I scanned through the myriad of remarks, I realized what a profound effect those snippets of language have had on my journey as a writer.  I re-read some of my posts to connect the meaning of the comments and was affected by the growth of my friendships through those words.

I am fortunate to have met an extensive number of talented people through this blog – people who not only take the time to read my words, but assert their own opinions in agreement or defiance.  A simple word or two from my fellow bloggers holds great significance because it means they took the time to read what I had beaten into submission before posting.

Your comments somehow make the toil of writing so much more worthwhile.  I only hope I can return the favor and extend the same courtesy to you.  As the sun sets on the eve of my busy season, I look forward to the eventide of a new creative flow and more time to read and comment.

Until that clocks favors me with more hours in the day, please know that your words keep me honest, they keep me humble and they keep me energized.  Your few words mean more than a thousand hollow words from someone who will never understand this passion for idioms and your words drive me to sharpen my skills and hone my craft.

I am simply me

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I am me.  There is nothing more or less to me.  When you look at me you see me at face value and I am truly the sum of my parts.  I will never change to be anything other than who I am.

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(image credit: sekutenetwork.com)

I have a great capacity to live my life the way I choose and no outside force will alter my path.  Some may not understand my journey but my path has been laid before me to follow and I do so willingly and without hesitation because this path is taken with the knowledge that I have carved it myself.  My road is created from a belief in who I am.  My road is paved with an understanding of my true identity and I am comfortable having my feet follow its winding path.

My road does not define me, I define it.  It is not sculpted from pettiness or jealousy, nor is it furrowed from frustration.  My road is simply an open path to my happiness and I follow it knowing that this is the journey I was meant to take.  It may not be the road chosen by many but this artery of life is meant for me.  It is unique and the fellow travelers I meet on this stretch of highway were meant to cross my path.

My journey to be me follows the beat of the incessant drumming only I can hear.  The mellifluous sounds keep my compass pointed in the right direction and I am happy to continue putting one foot in front of the other.  I will never again stray from my path because this passage allows me to be the truest version of myself.  It allows me to simply be me.

Back in the swing of things

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“Golf can best be defined as an endless series of tragedies obscured by the occasional miracle.” ~ Author unknown

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(image credit:  therockgolf.com)

After an almost two-year hiatus, I have begun to reintroduce myself to the game of golf over the last couple of weeks.  The hiatus was unintentional – my life was a roller coaster and reality seemed to keep getting in the way.

Before my absence on the course, every day off was spent chasing that little white ball around for four hours.  The thing I truly enjoy about golf, apart from the breathtaking scenery and communion with nature is the fact that the only real competition on the course is myself.  Sure, there may be some side bets with my golf partners, but the only thing I am really trying to beat is my last score.

Last week I put the clubs in the car and met up with some friends.  We went to the course by boat and the day was stunning.  The picture above couldn’t be a better indication of what we experienced since that is the course we played. (I birdied this hole yesterday!)

Although my game is not as proficient as it was two years ago, my muscle memory is making it easier to pick up where I left off.   Each time I swing a club it feels more familiar and comfortable than the swing before.

Being back in the office today and looking at another gorgeous day through the window is tough, but at least I know I’ll have a few more games before the snow flies.  Why didn’t I start this in the spring?

White rabbits and birthday wishes

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It is the first day of the month and, like every beginning of the month, the first words uttered in my waking moments were “white rabbit, white rabbit, white rabbit”. I’m certainly not a superstitious person but this string of language is a long-standing family tradition.  My great cousin Agnes, a delightful lady with a thick Scottish brogue, introduced me to this tradition when I was still in single digits.  She was in her 80’s and she will be an influence in my life that I will never forget.

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The idiom is meant to bring luck for the remaining days of the month but reciting that phrase gives me pause to remember cousin Agnes and the other family members and friends who are no longer with me.  When my dad was still with us, my phone would ring in the wee hours on the first of the month and, before even saying hello, we would say our white rabbits on the phone together.  Call display eventually helped to avoid the confusion of people on the other end of the phone if they happened to call before my dad. He was a very early riser and, as unlikely as that was, it happened once or twice and left a few bewildered callers wondering why I was shouting about albino bunnies.

Those simple words this morning were more important because today would have been my dad’s 77th birthday.  Saying those words on the first of this month was like my phone call to Heaven and I could hear his voice in my head saying them back to me at the same time. Though the distance that separates us is immeasurable, he is still never far from my heart.

In those brief moments when darkness still envelops the morning I find a sense of peace in those words.  Those two words, repeated three times in the haze of my waking moments, weave new threads into the blanket of my history.  That phrase warms my heart with memories of people and places that have been etched into my past.  That simple string of words uttered three times in a row will be with me paving the way into my future.

May the next thirty-one days be filled with good things for all of us.

Happy birthday Dad.  xo

Oz never did give nothin’ to the Tin Man…..Trifextra challenge

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The most unlikely friends.  Each of them thought they needed something they already had.  We always seek the things we are afraid to see in ourselves.  Be brave, be clever, have a heart.

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(image credit: doctormacro.com)

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Written for this weekend’s Trifextra Challenge:

This weekend we’re asking for 33 of your own words about a famous trio. The trio could be from literature, from history or from pop culture. Just make it yours and have fun with it. Good luck! – See more at: http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/#sthash.y3vJUsW9.dpuf

Just one of the guys

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The last time I checked, I still have all of the parts of the female anatomy I was blessed with at birth but being a woman never guaranteed that I would be feminine.  Sure, there are moments when I can fool people into believing I am a lady but, thankfully for me, those needed moments are few and far between.

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(photo credit: frumanista.blogspot.com)

I grew up a tomboy and it is a trait I never outgrew.   I enjoy hanging out with the boys – it’s my comfort zone because I don’t ever feel like I’m trying to fit in, to be something I’m not.  Somehow, I just belong and I like it that way.

My rounds of golf usually include 3 guys – and me, poker nights are usually 7 guys – and me.  During dinners or parties I generally gravitate towards the cloud of testosterone in the room and don’t ever feel like I stick out like a sore thumb.  It’s just my nature to be one of the boys.

I also enjoy time with my girlfriends, but those girlfriends, like me, are not as concerned with fashion and make up.  Not one in the bunch of us are girly-girls.  While we appreciate those Über-feminine women for their stylish and fashion-forward choices, we are not wired to think the same way.  If I had to wear any sort of spiked heel I would resemble the video below.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_0eINGyJHz8

I will never regret being the way I am.  I embrace my tomboyish charm and the fact that I can blend in so easily with my guy friends.  If you can’t reach me on a Sunday it’s because I’m in front of an NFL game releasing expletives similar to a missile-like battalion of bees shooting out from an angry hive.

Ask me to put on make-up and high heels and I will break out in a cold sweat – ask me to grab the pigskin and throw a perfect spiral, I’m in!!