Category Archives: inspiring

When you don’t have to think twice

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I am fortunate to have some truly great friends in my life who just get me.  I never have to worry about saying the wrong thing or having a joke hang in the air like a deflating cartoon balloon.  My sense of humor falls squarely on their ears and is met with an understanding laugh as opposed to the chirping of crickets in an otherwise silent room.

And the same can be said for their comprehension of the range of my emotional scale.  I have never been afraid to cry in front of, or with, those same people.  To me those tears are not a weakness but a genuine representation of my character and I admire that same quality in those with whom I choose to surround myself.  In an ocean as big as this life, it is nice to find another fish from the same school of thought.

There is a great sense of comfort knowing that, when you are with the right people, there is no need to feel guarded.  There is no reason to quell words or feelings because you sense they will be out of place.  There is no second guessing when it comes to telling it like it is because those people expect and appreciate your honesty and your compassion.

With those same friends, I never feel embarrassed if I am not at my best.  They know my good days and my bad days by the timber in my voice and they are just there, with no judgement and no unsolicited advice.  There is only concern and a touching way to express that concern.  Whether it is a solid embrace, a well-timed “I love you” or a simple touch of a hand to a shoulder, they seem to know the solution before I have had a chance to diagnose the problem.

Top-25-Heart-Touching-Winnie-the-Pooh-Quotes-Friendship

Those friends, those souls who are so connected to my soul, never make me think twice about being myself.  They cushion my fall.  They wipe my tears.  And they really do take up the biggest part of my heart.

Nothing but flowers

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You cried,

enduring pain for me,

loving me with never having met me

and I felt blessed.

You stood,

hands on your hips,

a whimsical smile on your face

and I felt anchored.

You embraced,

you wiped my tears,

you listened and never interrupted

 and I felt understood.

You watched,

allowing me to make mistakes,

but always there to help me mend

and I felt empowered.

~

I cried

when you left me.

 In a dream I saw you,

and watched you float.

You hovered,

our eyes met, you waved,

blew me a kiss

and fell into nothing but flowers.

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Sometimes you just want to wear your mom’s long johns

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We cleaned out my mom’s house over two years ago.  It was months before she had passed away but it felt just as much about closing a chapter as her actual passing.

There were very few things we kept for various reasons but, of all the memorabilia I could have wanted to keep, her yellow long johns with daisies on them was the item I wanted the most.  Sure, I still have her wedding ring and some other jewelry as well as a few small wood carvings of the birds we loved but this relic, this throwback to the 1970’s, was the thing that I held most dear out of all the items I could have kept.

Had you asked me at the time why it was that particular item that held my attention I don’t think I would have been able to articulate my reasoning.  But now, as I sit on my couch wearing her long johns as I type this post, I get it.

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This simple item of clothing has the ability to teleport me back to a time when life seemed perfect, when our family was happy and healthy and we just enjoyed spending time together.  These long johns held tight to my mother’s skin as we skied up to Swan Lake and they cushioned me in my mom’s lap while I snuck a few sips of wine out of the wine-skin she carried around her neck.

This yellow cotton is the fabric that helped to weave the reflections of my childhood into the memories of my adulthood.  It once clung to my mother as it now clings to me and there is great solace in its embrace.

When someone who can comfort you so much is taken from you, you cling to the things that have the ability to remind you of that person.  You want to find every way possible to emphasize the joy you found in your shared moments.  And even though I find that joy in an old pair of yellow long johns with daisies on it, that cloth helps me to overlook the things in my life that have no value and to focus on the things and the people who truly matter.

 

 

Job fairs and being able to form a sentence

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Things have changed drastically since I was a young teenager propelling myself into the work force.  I was a go-getter when I was young.  I had procured my first job at the age of twelve by walking into the store, relatively well-dressed for a kid my age, and handed over a resume that I had proudly written in cursive.  That piece of paper included absolutely no formal job experience besides babysitting but they could not resist my enthusiasm and my charm and I was hired on the spot to be a cashier and stock girl in a small, family run vegetable market.

Yesterday, I had cause to be at a job fair at the local high school.  Without going into scandalous detail, the outfits and the lack of eye contact or direct communication was overwhelming.  We did meet some wonderful candidates who presented themselves extremely well but the ones who stick out the most, sadly, are not the ones who inspired this post and, respectfully, they will not be the subject matter for the remainder of it.

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Mumblers and those who completely avoided eye contact aside, I was impressed by the level of maturity shown by some of the students who stopped by our desk.  They introduced themselves, some shook our hands and they asked questions about our lodge.  Sure, some of the outfits were not truly conducive to obtaining gainful employment but I had to cut them some slack.  They shuffled out of their high school classes because their attendance was required by the school.  For those who took the fair a little more sincerely, they arrived with resumes in hand and fully willing to take the day seriously.

I still maintain a modicum of hope for the future generations.  Notwithstanding the applicants who had their parents apply for them, I think we found some keepers!

 

 

 

 

 

 

The selfless act of being yourself

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Since turning thirty a number of years ago, I have really grown into a person that I am proud to be.  I had spent many years before that x-mark on the calendar trying to be many things for many people and it was emotionally draining.  I had put the small pieces of myself on a shelf and created a false picture based on fitting in the pieces that others had been trying to force into the frame of my puzzle.  Not only had I done myself a grave injustice, but I tried to pass off a fake portrait as art.

Since that defining moment in my life, I have retrieved those small pieces of myself and worked steadily at rebuilding my own puzzle.  Each piece now gently falls into place and I feel much more of a sense of accomplishment knowing that this puzzle is the one I should have been working on in the first place.

life puzzle

You are only a reflection of yourself and it is a defining moment when you can truly embrace the person you are and not the person who others think you should be.  It was a hard road for me to follow but each step was worth the anguish, each misstep was worth the correction, and each failure was worth the lesson.

I used to deflect compliments, and sometimes old habits die hard, but now when I receive kind words I can truly take them to heart because those words reflect who I am to the core of my being.  Now that I am being honest with myself, and just being myself, those words have greater meaning because they fall on the ears of the person I wished I had given myself permission to be so many years ago.

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Love is subjective

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I have found love where I least expected to find it.  It caught me off guard, rendered me helpless.  I always thought I knew how true love would feel but this deep emotion is far greater than I anticipated.

I can stare at my new love without feeling the need to speak.  I can touch my new love and feel the warmth being radiated.  I was nervous to admit to myself that I had fallen hard, but I can’t fight a love like this.

crockpotI have no fear of being the crazy cat lady as I approach the impending new decade that lurks a few years around the corner.  I will happily be the crazy crockpot lady.  I had dinner cooking in this little gem last night as I busily chopped and prepared five more meals for my freezer.  To say I am obsessed is an egregious choice of adjectives.

I do think that my circumstance could be much more dire than it currently is – not only have I found a love that shares my passion for food, but together we are helping people who can use a bit of a break.

When you find the right love, everything is a win-win.

 

 

The invisible sentinels

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moon

In the wee, small hours of morning,

your concern makes my nerves fray.

Distance creates questions,

that hang in the air unanswered

facial expressions unable to be read,

worry unable to be alleviated.

If I could reach out,

touch your arm for the briefest second,

perhaps that contact would help.

It may ease my worry,

and just maybe it would let you know,

that you never have to face your fear alone.

There is an army behind you,

charging into battle with you,

always there, ready to fight.

I did not go gentle

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000donotgogentle

My love,

I did not go gentle into that good night.

I lingered on the precipice,

holding tight to the memories of the warmth of my days.

My life played like a movie before my eyes,

and it was beautiful.

I couldn’t bear to leave you.

I raged against that white light and held fast to you.

I walk in your footsteps and hear all the words I should have been able to listen to,

words that should have fallen on my ears while you were in my arms.

I float on the words you speak to me, words you are unsure I hear.

I am still with you.

I am the air that dries your tears.

I am the breeze that tickles the wind chimes you love so much.

The sound of your laughter makes me feel alive again.

I did not go gentle into that good night.

I chose to stay with you.

***

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The cookie crumbles that way for a reason

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karma

There are several familiar expressions that 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 & effect” and it chooses how and when to seek its retribution or favor.  It may come back to surprise 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 make its presence known in your next lifetime.  Regardless of when it chooses to expose itself, it will seek you out and place its law gently at your feet.

It can be calculating and manipulative or favorable when it wants to be, and the words used to describe it may best define 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.  Karma is energy, a life force that gains 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 – is this, do unto others as you would have done to you.  It is such a simple string of words with such a profound outcome.  And, as this is the year that I vowed to give back, I am putting my good karmic vibrations into the atmosphere and have been receiving those positive vibrations back in spades.

Karma has been very generous in its intention to show me that it appreciates my efforts.  And I can only continue to grow my relationship with that Ethic of Reciprocity and hope that I can keep paying that generosity forward.

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The perks of being true to yourself

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I was recently rummaging through my writing desk when I came across a letter I had long since forgotten.  It is not the typical style of prose I would choose to hang on to but it is a glaring reminder of how therapeutic it can be to exorcise a toxic friend from your life.

Toxic friendships start so innocently.  The relationship begins to build on a foundation of trust and common interests, a bond is evident and the rules of the alliance seem to be clearly outlined and understood by both parties.  Each participant silently vows to put the other’s well-being ahead of the general population and to always have the other friend’s back.

But, somewhere during one particular friendship of mine, the rules changed.  My toxic friend began to show the obvious characteristics of being narcissistic and she no longer had a genuine investment in my feelings.  She began to pollute my reality with her selfishness and her uncanny ability to focus solely on herself.  Although the previous vows of our friendship still may have percolated in the back of her mind, she forged ahead only looking out for herself, completely negating any regard for my feelings.

Unfortunately, I have fallen victim to more than my fair share of toxic friends.  I have created excuses for their behavior, forgiven them on many occasions for the negative effect they have had on my life, and the lives of others, and defended their antics ad nauseam.  For the duration of those relationships my toxic friends broke all the fundamental and universal laws of friendship and yet I found it difficult to break the bond of our kinship.

I keep this letter, still, as a reminder of the journey I took to find my worth.  This one solid shred of evidence is proof of the strength I possessed to finally walk away from a toxic friendship and put myself first.  It is a letter, penned by a third-party, written to attack my character and accuse me of misrepresenting myself as a friend.  Although this letter initially angered me because the author was completely ignorant regarding my history with this certain friend, I now look at the words and smile.

I was accused of being a bad friend, and I was a bad friend – to myself.   I was accused of changing, and I did change – for the better.   I was told I would regret ending this one-sided friendship and, yes, I did indeed have regret about ending this particular friendship – but only because I didn’t have the balls to do it sooner.

into a new freedome

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I made a monumental decision that day and one I will never regret making.  I finally gave myself permission to define how I let people treat me.  My friendships now are nurturing and reciprocal and the friends I have in my life treat me with the same respect I show them.  It was a bumpy road for a while but knowing when to let go was a lesson I learned the hard way.  I may have a few cuts and bruises from having walked into a new freedom but I shall wear those scars with pride.