More than merely notes on a page

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“Without music, life would be a mistake.” ~ Friedrich Nietzsche

I could live the rest of my life without television, but take music from me and you may as well send me into my next incarnation.  Music has a way of taking what was wrong and making it right.

After a long day the right song choice is the consummate escape to find my way back to myself.  Closing the car door in the office parking lot, starting the engine and letting that perfect song selection caress my mind is such a welcome close to any hectic day.

When you find inspiring music and let it seep into your soul, it’s much more than just listening to a song.  Those notes and harmonies can take you out of your current existence and transport you to a new state of being.  The songs become so much more than notes on a page, they become transcendent.

notes on a page

I have a very eclectic compilation of music that I enjoy and, each day that I want to peel back the layers of my hectic life and just relax, the song is never the same.  My diverse taste allows me a greater freedom in finding that right choice to help assuage the tension of every day life.  Those varying notes in that array of genres is the portfolio of my relaxation and escape.

I don’t ever defend my vast taste in music, I embrace it.  I am never at a loss for a tune that will suit the moment I am in, and that gives me a contented feeling.  My music can match any mood and any circumstance, and I will never be afraid to admit the extreme sides to my play list.

Recently that melodic portal of liberation has been opened by the beautiful tones of four soulful voices provided by The Tenors.  Music will always have a soothing quality but when you find the right blend of melody and harmony the result is an emotionally soothing journey.  My goal is to meet these four Canadian boys!

Music is much more than just notes on a page.  Music is a memory. Music is a feeling.  Music is the collection of notes at the heart of your soul.

Lucky number three – Trifextra post

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She waited at the gates for her turn.  She had been reincarnated twice before and found him late in her last life.  Their souls were destined for love.  Third time is the charm.

~

Written for the Trifextra post: On to the new prompt.  This weekend we’re asking for 33 of your own words inspired by the idiom, third time’s the charm.  This familiar phrase may have an indeterminate origin, but its meaning is clear.  Whether or not you include the phrase itself is up to you.  Just make sure to use exactly 33 words.  And, as usual, have fun with it!

Make your own rules – Trifecta Challenge

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The painted cedar shingle hung precariously above the door.  An old wooden ladder had been haphazardly tied at the top rung to the branch of the tree but the placement of its feet were firm enough in the ground to be safe for access to the tree house.  The boys had vacated its four walls a few hours earlier and the fortress that they called their club sat empty.

After nimbly climbing the rungs of the ladder she surveyed the forbidden clubhouse.  Comic books were stacked in the corners of the room, posters of super heroes adorned the walls and the wooden structure was permeated with the smell of dirt. Sun shone through the cracks in the one-by-six construction boards and reflected off the jar in the corner half-filled with coins.

Although it was only a quarter, she felt the weight of the coin in her pocket.  Too many times she had heard the laughter and camaraderie escaping from those walls and she longed to be part of it.  She slowly retraced her steps down the ladder and headed for the garage.

Bracing the air rifle and taking the proper stance, she aimed at the sign that hung over the entrance to the club.  Lining up target in her sight, she squeezed the trigger and the pellet tore through the shingle, splintering off the top piece of the wood.  The sign now read “Girls allowed”.

no girls allowed

(image credit: bestofcalvinadhobbes.com)

Waiting patiently for what seemed like hours, she finally heard the boys return.  She marched across the lawn and climbed the ladder, rung by rung, until she reached the threshold of the one place she truly wanted to be.  Knowing she would be met with the many arguments that no girls were allowed she entered clubhouse, the threw her quarter into the jar and defiantly sat cross-legged on the wooden floor.

With a slight smirk she remarked, “That’s not what the sign says.”

A wink and a smile

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I like the fact that simple things still make me smile.  There is something about a wink that lifts my spirits…..it makes me feel like that shared moment was just for me.  A wink can warm my soul and make me feel more connected to the person taking the time to make the gesture in the first place.

There is an inherent difference between the joking, fun wink with the silly face and the genuine ‘I feel a connection’ wink that is far more heart-felt. A wink can communicate an unspoken string of words that compels the person receiving it to smile in return.

A wink can have many underlying meanings.  A single wink can signify solidarity in a friendship, an implication of a closeness shared by two people.  It can represent a shared secret and that simple gesture can bond two people in a mischievous way by allowing them to communicate without words.

wink

Winking can also be used to convey approval, but the most widely sought after wink is the provocative wink that may affirm a more intimate connection.  The wink that makes you blush and feel giddy, makes your heart beat a little faster and catches your breath in your throat.  If the wink has the desired effect the somewhat shy, flirtatious smile from the person receiving the wink is the natural response.

Successful relationships of any nature are based on open dialogue, discussion and honesty.  But in today’s modern romance fewer words and a simple wink can go a long way.  😉

The Commish is back in the house

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I am a Canadian who admittedly can’t watch the CFL although I am a football fanatic.  The culmination of my love of football was derived from years of watching the NFL.  My parents were Hamilton Ti-Cat fans, but I was always drawn to American Football and my love of the rules of the National Football League.

Hail Mary has much meaning for me, although I am not a religious person.  The tension on the field, the true grit of play and the excitement of the game has a hold on me that I have not yet been able to explain.  And I will vehemently negate any arguments that I watch the game for the tight pants.  I know the rules.  I know the game.  And during the NFL season, I eat, sleep and breathe football.

football

Once the season begins I yearn for Sundays.  If I am not working, I am comfortably ensconced in my living room watching the pre-game shows until the 1:00 kick off.  I can spend 10 hours in my living room yelling obscenities at my 46″ monitor and loving every second of the game. (I’m sure there are meetings for this!)

My love of the sport may have morphed into a slight obsession.  I took over a football pool about 10 years ago that had 15 participants.  Last year we topped the participation with 65 people at $250.00 each for the entry fee.  It was a busy season but time that I truly enjoyed spending creating spreadsheets and announcing the winners of each week.  Having 65 people picking 13 to 16 games a week is like having a second job, but one I would not give up.  My nickname during the football season is “The Commish” and it is a moniker I hold onto with great pride.

I have just sent my first email of the year to round up people to participate in the 2013 / 2014 football pool and I feel like a kid waiting to go to Disneyland.  The spreadsheets are set for another year and pre-season is around the corner.  The Chargers roster is pumped and ready to do me proud this year.  My jerseys are hanging in my closet and I eagerly anticipate the kick-off to the Hall of Fame Game on August 4th.

I am about to put the laptop to bed and watch The Replacements.  Although Keanu Reeves is not the best actor in the world, it is one of my favorite football movies and I need to get back into “Commish-mode”.  It’s 4th and 1 on the 1 yard line and I’m about to take the snap.  Hut, hut.

When the stars align

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I am a big believer in fate and fortuitous moments.  The thought of serendipity, fortunate accidents, being a guiding force in my life gives cause for excitement to see what the day will bring.  Last week the stars lined up in perfect symmetry to make one of those moments happen, although the initial picture seemed grim.

stars align

(image credit: ehow.com)

All of the strategic planning I had done the week prior was time that could have been better spent.  The fickle Gods of Fate, the ones who should have been expelled from Celestial School, stuck their finger into my life and muddied the waters of my mirage in mere seconds. The murky vision left behind no longer resembled any of the best laid plans I had made.

As with all things, I adapted and forged ahead.  The moment that had been so anticipated was now just a vague memory of an eager smile.  The dirt began to settle at the bottom of my pond, but the reflection had been altered.

The serendipitous moment came out of nowhere.  The pieces of the puzzle I had begun creating the week before began to magically fall into their originally intended spaces and my smile was even wider.  This felt like a sign that those stars were meant to align to make that day happen.

These are the rare moments that I can truly treasure.  Those unanticipated moments that something steps in to change the course of our trajectory and helps us to follow the path that we wished to follow in the first place, but were thrown off course.  Thank you, serendipity.  Come and find me anytime.

Summer – Trifextra challenge

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Sun kisses clouds and warms everything it touches.  Skin burns, lakes soothe and breezes quell the heat.  Laughter echoes, bonfires burn and families make memories.  I watch from inside.  I work in hospitality.

outside 013

~

Written for the weekend Trifecta challenge – Summer, to us, is both complicated and uncomplicated. Intricate travel itineraries and kicked-off sandals with sand still clinging to the soles. Carefree cloud-gazing days spent lying beside one body of water or another and big money spent on childcare and amusement parks. It means leaving home or coming home. This weekend we’re asking you to describe summer in your own words. Thirty-three of them exactly, of course. Good luck!

Don’t hate the haters

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There will always be people out there with nothing but negative energy.  They hate their job, they hate where they live and they take that bitterness into every moment of their day.  They hate us for being positive.  So why should we reciprocate and send that hate back to them for being haters?

We can’t hate the haters.  Being around negative people makes me want to be even more positive than I already am.  It’s better to be hated for who you are instead of being loved for who you are not.  Nothing annoys a hater more than your forgiveness. They seek conflict and if they don’t get it, they will just hate you more.

hater

There is a fine balance in the world and we struggle to maintain that level with every ounce of positive energy we have.  Being around people who constantly have that dark cloud hovering over them motivates me to make a conscious effort to keep my mood light and happy.

I’m not going to lie and tell you I haven’t had moments of immense dislike within me, but I choose to rise above that venom that can penetrate the soul and find the lesson in the situation that caused that hatred in the first place.  My mother always said “it takes all kinds to make the world go round” and I now know what she meant.  If it weren’t for the haters, we wouldn’t be able to appreciate being the lovers.

We need to learn to rise above that feeling of hate and figure out what that anger is teaching us.  The haters will never have that perspective but we can motivate ourselves to see beyond the malevolence that bubbles within us and move beyond the hate.

Appreciate the haters for teaching us how much better it is to love and be happy.  Life is short – appreciate every second of it and don’t waste it being angry.  I don’t ever want to look back on my life and say I wasted a single moment dwelling on a feeling that didn’t make my life better.

A much needed change of pace

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Tonight was brilliant.  Tonight I came home from work, tuned out all of the outer distractions and got caught up on reading the many blogs I follow and have been missing recently.

Starting a new job always means putting in a few extra hours to learn the ropes – a  few extraneous minutes of time to make the new bosses happy that they made the decision to bring you into the fold of their team.  But with that additional effort comes the realization that other parts of your life suffer in the wake of your desire to be appreciated and recognized.

Lately, my writing has been staggered, at best, and my reading has resembled something close to non-existent.  Life will return to normal when the summer staff come to ease to burden of my multi-tasking, but until then I will steal any moment I can to form thoughts into words and to catch up with others afflicted by the same writing bug that infects my mind.

I appreciate their sentiments, I get lost in their prose and I long for the precious minutes that thoughts form sentences that have meaning.  I yearn for those cherished seconds that words escape from my mind without giving the ideas a second thought.  Contemplation percolates, idioms spill and paragraphs are created.

bloggin

(image credit: imedia.brooks.ac.uk)

To blog or not to blog is not the question.  The only query that remains is how to create more hours in the day to do all of the things I need to do and save times for the things I truly love to do.

True friendship – Trifextra Challenge

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Her birth was nothing short of miraculous and she survived her first eight weeks in a landfill, left for dead.  The rescue team that found her nourished her back to health and placed her in the system for adoption.  Once I saw those big brown eyes I knew she would be, not only my dog but, my four-legged child and my best friend.

Callaway - 1st day

Written for the weekend Trifextra Challenge: On to the prompt.  This weekend we’re revisiting an early Trifextra, our second ever.  The challenge is to write a complete story in only three sentences.  Good luck!