Category Archives: musings

An abundance of gratitude

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Lately I have been writing from a place deep within myself.  I have written about issues very close to my heart and the comments I have received have been, not only engaging and warm but, overwhelming to say the least.

I am humbled by the fact that my words have pulled on the heartstrings of many friends and even strangers who have taken the time to comment and let me know that my words hit close to home for them as well.  Some have expressed feeling like I am writing just for them.

Your words encourage me to listen to my inner voice and keep sharing my words.  So this afternoon, instead of digging deep into the well of raw emotion, I simply want to say thank you.   Thank you for reading, thank you for commenting and, most of all, thank you for being the eyes that absorb the ideas that I love sharing.

bottom of my heart

(image credit)

 

Nineteen going on romantic

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I was having a conversation with a girlfriend about our first really memorable kiss (not together) and I remembered I had written this blog post last year.  I love this memory from my teenage years, so, since it is Throw Back Thursday,  I’m sharing it again.

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He held my hand during the movie.  It was sweet.  When he thought nobody would notice he leaned in for a kiss.  It was tentative at first, his lips slowly grazing the flesh of my cheek, but it drew my blood to the surface of my skin and I blushed in the dark.  His face nuzzled my neck and he kissed the skin below my ear.   The movie reel continued, scenes flashed before my eyes and the surround sound echoed throughout the theatre but I became lost in his touch and forgot the movie even existed.

I was 17 and my experience kissing boys was awkward at best.  Teenage boys were a kaleidoscopic combination of raging hormones and wandering hands and I didn’t expect this night to be any different.  I was well versed in a strategic line of defense when it came to thwarting enemy advances but tonight was different.  There were no ill-timed gropes and no need for the tactical measures that I had been prepared to use.

I turned my face to meet him and his lips found mine.  The kiss was soft with a hint of controlled yearning.  His mouth moved from my lips and he kissed both of my eyelids, knowing full well I was squeezing them shut to savor the feel of his mouth on mine.  He kissed the tip of my nose and, after a slight pause, our lips found each others once again.  Where I had expected urgency, there was tenderness.  Where I had expected roving hands on my body, there was only a gentle caress of his thumb on my hand.

19

I was afraid to lose myself in his kiss.  I was waiting for the stampede of teenage male hormones to ruin the moment and I had braced myself for the inevitability of something so sweet turning into something so uncomfortable.  But that moment never happened.  His kiss was his power.  He didn’t listen to the teenage voices in his head telling him to get to second base.  He just seemed to feed off of the energy that was created in the intimacy of a kiss.

His other hand gently cupped my cheek and he pulled me back to his mouth.  It was exhilarating.  I no longer felt the need for my defenses and I let myself get utterly lost in that moment.  In the maturity and wisdom of his 19 years, he got it.  He understood the magic of romance and how to build a moment into a memory.

That moment from so many years ago is still etched into my memory and the power of a genuinely passionate kiss will always differentiate romance and sex.  May we all love deeply and kiss intentionally.

Do you remember the first great kiss you ever had?

Growth

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Germinating beans

Growth is not just about sprouting.

Growth is learning about your surroundings

and how to thrive,

how to become a bigger, better version of yourself.

Nourish yourself,

grow to your full potential,

but every now and then,

allow yourself to look back at where you came from.

The risk of not growing is more painful

than the risk of being constricted by what you once were.

~~

Written for the Grammar Ghoul challenge.  For this short week, we’re going to ask you for exactly 66 words of micro-fiction or poetry. And we’re only going to give you one prompt, an image, which you’ll find below (above). Your job is to give us a micro story or a poem inspired by the photo.

gg-wkbadge-e1411321572196

 

 

 

 

Sometimes you just need to look backwards

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reflection quote

“A lake that is noisy cannot reflect anything”

– Robert Adams

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I like to spend time reflecting.  I don’t dwell on the past but I do visit from time to time so I can take a moment to appreciate the lessons I have been taught along the way.  I am a different person from the one I was masquerading as many years ago.   And yesterday, the serenity of my day off provided me with ample moments to look back and plenty of time to plan my journey forward based on where I am in my present.

My lake was quiet today.  It afforded me a few precious moments to realize that if I hadn’t experience failure, I wouldn’t have learned to appreciate success.  If I hadn’t lost pieces of myself along the way, I would never have been able to have found the real me and respect who I truly am.

Looking backwards may seem like a waste of time but that personal reflection will remind you of where you came from and make you acknowledge where and who you are today.

A rose by any other name is just how I choose to describe it

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Moon

Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.
–Anton Chekhov

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There have been times when I have been writing that I feel my words have become too “flowery”, too descriptive.  I love to take imagery and let the reader truly visualize what it is that I am trying to convey.  I am also a big fan of using metaphors to get my point across.

For a few brief sentences, I tried to rein in the flourish in my writing and then I realized I would be doing myself a grave injustice.  I would be writing with another voice that is distant from the one I have come to know and love.  Sure, I could artlessly tell you that the rose petal was falling off, but I would rather tell you that the withered skin of the aging rosebud hung listlessly, clinging desperately to the last breath of life held in the stem.  That is my writing voice, that is who I am when I am being true to my craft.

But it is hard to find the balance between too much and not enough.  When I write, I want the person reading to be able to smell, taste and feel my words.  I want that person to be so immersed in the images that they feel like they have left their physical world and have been transported into my words.  But I don’t want them to get so lost in the description that they feel the train of the story is going recklessly off the tracks.

Perhaps the delay in writing my book was to allow my voice to develop through my blog.  I have achieved a level of comfort here with my words and my ideas and I know that my voice is my own and not a weak interpretation of another.  I don’t just feel like I am telling meaningless stories anymore, I feel like a writer.  And Mr. Chekhov, I will never be the one to simply tell you that the moon is shining.

 (Thank you Daily Post for the encouragement)

A funny thing happened on the way to the finish line

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Apparently, I am no Job.  I have no patience when it comes to many things and I just want to get from the start to the finish line.  The problem with sprinting to the end is that I forget to enjoy the scenery during the marathon that is my life.  I have a very bad habit of trying to make things happen instead of just letting them happen.  The meaning of the song ‘Que Sera, Sera’ is hopelessly lost on me.

I don’t know why I cannot let whatever will be, just be.  I need to teach myself to relinquish some of the control I so desperately want to have and let life unfold in front of me.  There is more beauty watching the petals of a rose open slowly than the rose itself at the end of its blossom.

rose

(image credit)

Perhaps wisdom really does come with age.  Maybe I am at the point in my life that I am willing to sit back and loosen the reins a little and see how the proverbial cookie crumbles without me breaking it into a thousand tiny pieces.  It’s time to let life happen and for me to find strength in patience and wait for those good things to come.

 

 

Riding the waves and becoming yar

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Meaningful-quotes-16-Meaningful-quotes-everyone-should-know-8

I can honestly say I haven’t had the smoothest of seas to navigate the waterways of my life but I have never had the urge to abandon ship and head for the calmness of the shore.  Sometimes being adrift in that expansive sea brought challenges I had never anticipated but, through those unexpected waves, I found I had more ability to navigate than I gave myself due credit.

I could feel comfortable being captain of my ship knowing that I could sail those high seas with confidence.  I stood my ground at the helm.  Although the sea threatened to swallow me more than a few times, I anchored myself to my craft, trusted in my strength and rode the currents to safety.

Experience is the greatest teacher and life is certainly gracious enough to acquiesce and provide a heaping dose.  Becoming able to weather any storm is knowing how to learn from that experience and store it for the future.  I can now sit back and let the wind blow my sails in any direction because I am well prepared for the next tempest.

 

 

 

Awfully glad to be unhappy

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I work in the hospitality industry so it should go without saying that I am a people person.  I love interacting with new guests and getting to know them, having a few laughs and making sure they feel at home at the lodge.

There is something very personal about our small resort that allows us to really become friends with our guests.  We know them on a first name basis by their first or second day, we know their kids’ names, we get to know where they are from and eventually we remember that they prefer rye toast and how they take their coffee.

It really is like spending a weekend with an extended part of our family.   When it comes time to say goodbye, I really am sad to see them leave.  Knowing they will be back again slightly eases the sadness but I am glad that I can feel that melancholy feeling because it truly means we have had an authentic effect on each other during their stay.

MM front

I know that the long hours pale in comparison to the number of smiles I have seen or the many sounds of laughter that have echoed within the walls of the lodge during their stay.  And although it may be another year before we see them again, we are genuine when we say we look forward to having them come back “home” again.

 

 

 

Starting 2015 the ‘write’ way

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I was going to be lazy today and not pull the starter cord on my brain.  I was content to let it sit idle and enjoy the distant hum as it sat listless but that would go against everything I want 2015 to be – creative and filled with stories.  And although I am closing in on the end of a 70-hour work week, I still feel like I should at least try to conjure a few words from the recesses of my imagination and begin the new year the way I should, by writing.

words

I would like my brain to become so flooded with words and images that they spill over each other to fight for their right to be etched on paper.  I want to feel so full of inspiration I can do nothing BUT write to be able make room for the new ideas being born.  I would like to wake up in the middle of the night and rush to the computer to capture those ideas before they escape and trickle down into the abyss of lost thoughts.

If I can do this every day, if I can play my metaphorical flute and conjure those words like a snake,  writing will become a need, a desire much more passionate than just wanting to write.

Day one – success.   Happy New Year everyone and may all of your wishes come true in 2015!

 

 

Alas, another year has gone by

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The year 2014 has almost tucked itself under the covers, waiting for the sun to rise and shine its light on 2015.   I have never been a big fan of the loud, drunken New Years party.   I have attended my share of dinner parties with friends and enjoyed the company of those I love but I had stealthily left the party as the decibel level and the uncomfortable amount of alcohol consumption increased.  When it comes to the later hours of the last evening of the year, I prefer the solitude of my home, a robust bottle of red wine and a quiet reflection of the year that has passed.

Although some of my evening is spent looking back on the events that shaped my year, most of my time is spent looking ahead without making promises that may be broken.  My New Years Eve is not about making resolutions.

2014 took the best of me when my mom passed away in March but the many months following her death, although emotionally exhausting, were filled with wonderful memories and the yearning to succeed in the things that I was doing that gave her such pride.

candle

My writing and my desire to become a published author are tiny flames glowing in the distance of the new calendar year.  Each moment I sit at my keyboard and weave ideas into paragraphs, that flame will burn brighter.  With dedication, and help from my muse, hopefully that flame will grow into a raging inferno and my mom and dad will be able to enjoy the warmth of the fire I created with my imagination.

And now that January 1st is lurking just around the corner, I want to wish all of you a very Happy New Year.  May 2015 bring you peace and joy.  May the changing of the calendar year ease the burdens of the past year and bring you prosperity and deep and honest love in all aspects of your life.  To quote Henry David Thoreau ~ “live deep and suck out all the marrow of life”.

It’s time to  start writing our new chapter.