Don’t walk by without sticking your nose in it…

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Too often I find myself seemingly wishing my life away.  Maybe I’m not really wishing it away but I do tend to look forward to things I have coming up instead of enjoying living in the moment.  I always comment on how quickly time seems to be marching on when, really, I have created the staccato drum beat that I am marching to and have quickened my own pace.

Years ago, my parents used to listen to a jazz singer by the name of Cleo Laine.   Although countless hours were spent listening to her sultry songs and three octave range, the only song that I can remember with total clarity is her rendition of “Stop and smell the roses”.   Even now, I can hear the song in the recesses of my memory as the words hover in a balloon above my head.  “The sweetest flowers grow, and then they bloom, but one day they die.”   I need to have that song playing on a recurring track in my head so I can realize the moments that I may be potentially throwing away, the moments that I can never get back, the moments that I missed because I was too focused on what was coming next, the moments that the roses were in bloom.

I wake up every day – I have a few cups of coffee – I go to work – I am living.  But how much living am I really doing in my life?  Am I taking the time to appreciate the things around me or am I merely going through the motions with blinders shielding my eyes and completely negating the real things in life that are happening right in front of me?

It’s time to slow down, to take life as it comes and not wish myself into the rapidly approaching future.  It will be here before I least expect it and all of those moments that I could potentially have been creating memories will have vanished.  It’s not often that I buy myself fresh flowers, but yesterday I purchased a bouquet of flowers in anticipation of the post that I would create.  Those flowers are now displayed on the island in my kitchen and each time I pass by that vase of floral poetry, I pause and take a moment to put my nose deep into those blossoms and breathe deeply.

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As I sat in my living room last night, laptop at my fingertips, dog asleep at my feet, I gazed across my still snow-covered lawn at the beautiful sunset.  The mottled pink clouds scattered across an otherwise clear sky and reminded me to pause and absorb the beauty of the moment.  Soon, that rose-colored sky would disappear and the true night sky would be speckled with a spectacular display of stars.  With a glass of wine in hand and a blanket caressing my shoulders, I took refuge in the warmth of my living room and took the time to enjoy the end of my day.

All too often those moments fade quickly and we are left reflecting on the beauty and emotion of what was, when we should embrace that beauty and those emotions as they occur.  Live in the now.  Stop and put your nose deeply into the petals of those roses and inhale the fragrance.  All too soon, those precious stems will be bare and we will be left with nothing but a memory of a flower that we once had the chance to enjoy.

 

Yes Charlie Brown, happiness really is a warm blanket

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Our friends are like blankets.   They can be an endless string of material woven together with such strength that they completely envelope us or they can be an array of tattered old pieces of what once was a blanket, holding desperately to the strength they once had but unable to fully cover us when we really need it.  Regardless of whether the blanket is old or new, the heart of the fiber is still created from the same cloth and still retains the ability to protect a portion, if not all, of us.

 

Over time, it is inevitable that some cloth becomes distorted from its original plush appearance, but if you delve into memories of that blanket, you can hold on to the soothing feelings you once got from it and realize that it did everything in its power to keep you warm and protected.  It can evoke a feeling as strong as a childhood sense of urgency to hold on to a security blanket.

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Some blankets are indestructible.   Although time may march over that blanket a thousand times, its resolve to stay in its original shape is overwhelming.  It is always consoling when you need to seek comfort, it is never in a place you cannot find it and it will always be big enough to cover all of you.  On very rare occasions, a blanket can be unintentionally neglected but when you rediscover that unique blend of interlaced textiles, you cherish the true strength of those fabrics and know they will never unravel.  Once you wrap yourself in that blanket again it is like coming home but after never really having been away.

 

I am thankful for all of my blankets – the old, the new and the recently rediscovered.  Every fiber of material that makes up those blankets has offered me comfort at some point in my life and I hope my blanket has done the same for them.  I can always take solace in the fact that the material they are made of is genuine and it is readily available whenever I need to feel soothed on those stormy nights.

When there is nothing left to do but laugh like an idiot

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There are a very rare number of glimpses into a perfect juncture in time.  Those precious gifts are brought at unsuspecting moments but, when the mood catches you at the right time, laughter becomes unstoppable to the point that tears begin to roll down your cheeks,  your ribs ache and your stomach muscles become constricted.

I had one of those moments last night.  I was watching a show where an actor was doing an impression of Christopher Walken – not an easy feat but he did it with such impressive articulation it spurred me to go to YouTube to find more impersonations.

I must preface my evening’s lunacy by announcing my love for old musicals.  My Fair Lady was a favorite to watch with my parents.  It is a treasured memory of a time gone by that will remain with me throughout my life.  When our leading lady is learning proper diction, the phrase “The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain” is uttered continuously to help her ease out of her Cockney accent and pass as a well-bred lady.  So when I stumbled on what I thought was a depiction of Christopher Walken, this gem of humor surfaced and had me watching it over and over until I couldn’t see because I was laughing so hard.

Moments like the one I had are hard to come by.  There are so few times that we allow ourselves the reckless abandon to be able to laugh the way I did.  Life hits us with a barrage of reality and it is so difficult to give ourselves permission to be silly but those moments make it possible for us to deal with the hand that life has dealt.

Today will be a bright day for me because I go into it knowing I still have the capacity to let go, to laugh at something so inane but something that was able to break the constraints of my day-to-day existence.  I let everything else go and, just for a moment, laughter riddled my body with the kind of pain I wish I experienced more often.

Allow yourself that moment.  Give yourself permission to throw every responsibility on the back burner and just enjoy life, even if it’s only for that brief moment. These are the rare glimpses of your life that you will carry with you and the pain you will want to remember.

A grudge at rest should remain at rest

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I know I need to let it go.

It’s not even my grudge to hold on to,

not if I were completely honest.

But that doesn’t seem to stop me

from bearing the weight of its memory.

 I feel rage when the cause presents itself,

over and over,

the glaring reminder pokes the sleeping bear,

sleeping bear

the creature who surrendered in my mind,

but not in my heart.

My anger wants to lash out,

to right what is so wrong,

to make the waning memory remain present,

to rub that reflection in the face of the here and now.

But I need to let go.

What has been done,

will never be undone,

not if I had a thousand wishes

over a thousand lifetimes.

 The higher road beckons,

and I will set my foot on that path of rising above.

But taking that road will not erase the memory,

it will not eradicate the anger,

nor will it quell the yearning for vengeance.

I may not be able

to let this sleeping dog lie,

but I know it is the right thing to do.

Sleep, errant dog,

and let those moments slowly fade.

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Hey Pharrell, clap along….I found mine

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We all strive to be happy – in our homes, in our jobs and in our lives.  We yearn for success and money, but how many people take the time to consider what truly makes them happy?

Finding true happiness may not be as difficult as you think – you just have to be realistic about what makes you authentically happy, down to the core of your being.  Happiness is not a tangible “thing”, it is a feeling that comes from deep within.  You can be content with your job, and content with your surroundings, but until you delve into yourself and discover what makes you truly happy, you will never have that genuinely satiated feeling.

The definition of happiness is different for everyone.  The things that make me truly happy – a fine red wine, a perfectly cooked steak, the drippings from a roasted chicken, a good book, closing out the world and just writing – would make others shake their head in disbelief.  But that is my happiness.  And those things that make me sincerely content won’t break the bank (except the wine, sometimes) and are easy to achieve.

I am a simple person when it comes to happiness, but it has taken me many years to realize what the word happiness really means to me.  It does not come in monetary form, nor does it lie within anyone else.  My happiness lies within me and does not rely on outer influences to achieve that state of euphoria.

We each need to step back and really examine what is our true bliss.  Perhaps we have been looking in all the wrong places and the jubilation we strive for is at arms reach.  We owe it to ourselves to seek our true happiness and let other’s judgements be cast aside.  No one person, besides yourself, can define your happiness.  They may be able to contribute to the feeling but your paradise is yours to create.

Find your joy and breathe it in at every chance.  You will be happy you did!

Giving myself permission to feel joy

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“Find the place inside where there is joy, and the joy will burn out the pain.” ~ Joseph Campbell

inner joy

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This past weekend was more painful than I anticipated it would be.  Saturday was the one year anniversary of my mom’s passing and the anguish of losing her took me by surprise all over again.  I awoke at the exact time I received the dreaded phone call last year and spent the remainder of the day secluding myself from society, friends and family.

It was a much-needed hibernation from reality and time that allowed me to reflect on all of the happy memories and not just dwell in the sadness.  I was able to observe many moments of silence and stillness.  Those quiet moments gave me permission to initially grieve but then to take that grief and smother it with thoughts of a happy life spent with my mom and my dad.

After recognizing my mom’s passing, the ninth anniversary of my dad’s passing occurred two days later on Monday.  As it happened on Saturday, I awoke at 2:15 am on Monday, roughly the time my dad passed, and spent many peaceful moments remembering the good times with him.

Grief can be consuming but joy has a way of quelling the overwhelming emotion and allowing happiness to rise to the surface.  It is difficult in times of sorrow, especially when remembering a loved one who has passed, to be able to bring joy to the moment.  But those who have left us would want us to feel nothing but joy.  My parents would be sad to know that I am still grieving and not embracing the spirit they had when they lived.

It is that force that drives me to find joy in my sadness.  It is their energy that wills me to move beyond the grief and remember their lives in a happy way and not cling to the heartache I feel in their absence.  I will always grieve the loss of my parents but I will also begin to give myself permission to bask in the joy I feel having been a part of their lives.  Hopefully, in time, I will be able to carry that joy into my future and the joy will burn out the pain.

Every little bit counts

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Every person is made up of bits.  Bits of humor mixed with bits of wisdom and intelligence and a few bits of humanity thrown in for good measure.  All of us have bits of our selves.  Some of those bits we share with the masses and some of those bits we only share with those closest to us.

Along our journey through life we choose to share the pieces of ourselves that we feel deeply connected to but we only choose to share them with people we are drawn to, people who will truly appreciate those bits of us and will find those bits endearing.  We all have good bits and bad bits.  There are bits of our past that are tainted but the true friends in our lives will see past those bits and realize they made us who we are today.

When you make a connection with someone who understands the pieces of you that make you who you are, the feeling of comfort is instantaneous.  The bits of you that made you self-conscious no longer exist and you find strength in the bits of you that you once questioned.  Those pieces of your life that seemed foreign now fit into the bigger picture and the puzzle is not nearly as puzzling.  And those pieces of you that you chose to share somehow find a home in the hearts of those who truly get you.  

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At the end of the day we are the sum of all of our bits, good and bad.  It is the strong forces in our lives that will accept us as the accumulation of our bits and look at the whole picture, not just focusing on each of the parts as individual pieces and labeling them as good or bad.   Those people don’t enter our lives very often.  When they do come along they leave a lasting impression.  They will love you to bits and love all of your bits.

Live long and prosper – fiction

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spock

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Space was not the final frontier and neither was death.  It had been weeks since he had left his physical body and yet he knew his life was far from over.  He didn’t know how to classify the realm in which he currently existed.  It wasn’t space, it wasn’t Heaven, it wasn’t Purgatory and it certainly wasn’t Hell.  It simply felt like what he imagined it would be like in the womb.  The sounds around him undulated and he felt like he was floating.

If he could not recall certain parts of his life, those memories slowly returned as if they were on a trailer reel of a film. It all seemed highly illogical but it was happening and he could not ignore the scenes as they played in his head.  Familiar faces drifted to the forefront of his mind and he knew them all by name.

The face that lingered the longest was of a man he had known well.  William.  His name was William.  As the details of William’s face became more pronounced in his memory, he became overwhelmed with emotion, something he had done his best to conceal throughout his life.

Images rushed by now, tumbling over themselves to make room for others and, as the last pieces seemed to fall into place, the movie of his life began.  He watched his childhood, he witnessed himself as a young man falling in love for the first time and he watched as he tried his first cigarette.  He turned away and the movie paused.  That moment frozen on the screen was the beginning of his end.

He focused once more on the show and watched the legacy he helped build, in his personal life and his career.  The words he uttered many times on-screen came true in more ways than one in his life and, even though this life no longer existed, he would still live long and prosper in the minds of those who loved him.

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Written for the Grammar Ghoul Challenge – In memory of Leonard Nimoy the word prompt is illogical and the visual prompt is a scene from Star Trek II – The Search for Spock.  I was extremely sad when he passed.  I spent many of my childhood years watching Star Trek and, in many ways, Leonard Nimoy reminded me of my dad.  LLAP.

 

Learning to laugh at yourself

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I hope you will all indulge me this week.  March 7th looms and I would like to keep as many happy memories as I can at the forefront of my brain.  Since my mom can no longer comment on what I post, her ethereal embarrassment shall be something that will hopefully make us all smile a little.  Some of my best memories are of the funniest times in my life – the memories that made me laugh until I cried and that same laughter that made my mom wet herself.  This is one of the memories I love.

We have always been a family with pets.  Dogs have been a strong presence in our lives and in the early 1980’s mom and I would walk the dogs down the back road that was close to our house.  On one of our walks, our Golden Retriever, Brandy, decided to take it upon himself to walk our Lhasa Apso, Misty.  He took her extra-long leash in his mouth and proudly sauntered down the road, not looking back.   Only mom and I could see the leash wrapped around Misty’s body and, when there was no slack left in the long leash, Brandy dragged Misty down the road backwards for about half a kilometer.  That moment wasn’t just funny, it was absolutely hysterical and mom and I laughed so hard she peed her pants.

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Now, in the 80’s velour was all the rage.  Mom sported many matching leisure suits.  They were comfortable, they were stylish, and they were surprisingly absorbent.  But the variation in color could not hide the fact that my mom had peed her pants.  After we collected ourselves, we made our way back to the house.  We had a crowd of friends over and, knowing that, Mom was in stealth mode, maneuvering out of anyone’s peripheral to sneak in the back door and head for the laundry room in our basement.

She quickly changed her outfit and headed back up to the living room, thinking she had averted humiliation.  What she had NOT counted on, was that her traitor of a daughter had already broadcast the episode to anyone who would listen and had even thrown in some play-by-play action in slow motion.  Not only was I laughing but everyone in the room joined in, even my mom.

That day I learned one of the greatest lessons she ever taught me, even if by accident – if you can’t laugh at yourself, you will miss a great deal of enjoyment in your life.

 

 

And then the muses slowly disappeared…..

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I’ve been dreading writing this week.  I knew it was coming and as much as I thought I could distract myself with topics that did not strike me on an extremely personal level, I was wrong.

I have been enjoying a great relationship with my muse since January 1st.  Together we have posted every day since the start of the new year, sometimes twice a day, and I have become truly immersed in the creative process.  But something drastically changed with the passing of the calendar month.  My muse has slowly retreated from the active space in my mind.  It has nothing to do with the continuing frigid temperatures or the delay of springs’ arrival.  It has everything to do with the looming date of March 7th.

That day in the calendar year of 2014 irrevocably altered my life.  It seems like only hours ago I received that horrific early morning phone call to tell me my mother had passed unexpectedly and my life spun into a tornado-like funnel cloud.  Images, hours, even days blurred.  To think it will be a year on Saturday astounds me.

It feels like I am back in the first moments of coming to terms with the news and yet there have been so many firsts since then.  Birthdays, anniversaries, Thanksgiving, Christmas….all were celebrated to the best of our ability with her glaring and undeniable absence.  Knowing that she is no longer suffering the effects of her illness is the only comfort I have.  It should ease some of my suffering but the feeling of loss goes much deeper than that.

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At least each day I am still here gives me a chance to hold her memory as close as I would like to hold her in a childlike embrace.  The pain never goes away, we just think about it differently as time moves on.