A good reminder that it is not necessary to go full speed all the time.
All of the things I did
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I am not here to just put my toes in the water.
I am here to cannonball off a spring-board,
fully plunging into the deep end.
I am not here to simply smell the flowers.
I am here to roll through the meadow,
to give in to careless abandon,
and to saturate myself in their fragrance.
I am not here to be a guest in my own life.
I am here to live purposely,
to breathe deeply the essence of this life,
because I know, all too well, that life is short.
And at the end of my journey through this lifetime,
all of the things I did,
and all of the life I inhaled,
will hopefully served to remind me,
that I lived a deliberate life and that I made a difference.
A final goodbye
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Only yesterday that water seemed to soothe my sadness as it tickled my knees. I stood amidst nature, holding you close in my memory and in my heart. Your ashes soared high on the very breeze that used to carry our laughter.
Making the right things different
8 Comments“We are not the same persons this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love the changed person.” ~ W. Somerset Maugham
I love stories of couples who have been together for decades, who celebrate year after year together and still maintain that bond of love and friendship. My grandparents had it, my parents had it and my brother has it. I have not been able to weather that change with as much success as they have but that truth does not make me sad.
The most basic definition of change is to make something different. That is how the dictionary categorizes change and I have been through many circumstances in my life that have caused me to become different. Sadly, or perhaps not, I was unable to continue relationships with certain loves because I became a changed person. I had grown from experience, I had aged from knowledge and I had matured from the lessons of my reality.
I am, decidedly, not the same person this year as last. There is an underlying intensity to me that I had never previously possessed. There is a confidence, a slow-burning belief in myself, that is gradually being fueled by the understanding of my recently discovered strengths. And that person did not exist while I was in those past relationships. That person slowly transformed from chrysalis to butterfly, evolved from the person I used to be, and changed into the person I am now.
Certainly it would be a happy coincidence if we are fortunate enough to mature together and to be able to love that changed person in our lives and grow in the same direction. But it would no fault of either person if that change took different trajectories.
People change. Ideals change. Love changes. Our job is to decide whether we, being the person we are now, are still able to love that changed person or whether we need to make a change for ourselves.
2 Kisses I shall give you
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In the wee hours of the morning,
her visits often happen then,
the charge in the air is palpable
and sleep is still in my head.
Her message hangs heavily in the air,
the words are always the same.
“Two kisses I will give you,
to help get you through your day.
One kiss is to give you courage,
to help you save the world.
The other kiss is to help protect you
from the curve balls that life will hurl”.
Her words soothe me and give me peace
in the last moments of my sleep.
And on my cheeks, as I face the world,
two kisses I shall keep.
(image credit: santabanta)
~~
This was originally posted in 2014, but I swear I could feel them on my cheeks this morning.
No more clowning around
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Being a Classic Tramp was beneath the level he had hoped to achieve but, as he sat alone by the casket after the ceremony had ended, Bobo realized his frown was perfectly placed today. Soft strains of a cello played in his head as he paid his respects to Bubbles in silence.
Two ships
5 CommentsHis touch,
timid at first, playful.
His eyes held a merriment,
his laughter concealed a deeper emotion.
Fleeting moments of stolen glances,
subtle traces of a finger on bare skin.
His touch,
evolved from an innocent beginning,
holding an unspoken desire.
His eyes burned into hers.
Currents of electricity,
hearts beating,
breath short.
Lips graze, sparks fly,
accepting a shared yearning.
Moments of complete breathlessness,
hearts skipping a beat,
sustaining warmth in memories,
torn between desire and reality.
The Gods of fate dealt the cards,
flop, turn,
river pushing against the tides.
Two ships,
pulled apart by the current,
sailing around the world,
hoping the movement of the ocean
will make them collide once again.
A Sunday well spent
15 Comments“I cook with wine, sometimes I even add it to the food.”
― W.C. Fields
For those who have read my recent posts about my passion for cooking and my desire to give back to people in need, this post should come as no shock to you.
I recently stumbled on the genius trend of freezer crockpot meals. These meals are all prepared ahead, placed uncooked in ziplock bags, laid flat and frozen. When thawed the night before, they can be dumped into a crockpot the next morning and 6 to 8 hours later, a family has a hot meal waiting for them.
I had one specific friend in mind when I decided to do this but as I told people what I was doing, the list of recipients grew a little longer. I spent a Sunday afternoon, without watching football, and chopped, poured and bagged until I had completed 16 meals. At the end of the process, it had taken slightly more than three hours from start to finish – a very encouraging pace.
This Sunday, and most likely the following Sunday, I am going to gather with a group of women to do it all over again, with one major difference. Although many of the women will take some meals home for their families, we will be donating at least one meal per person to a young couple who lost their home and all of their belongings in a fire. And though the fire is tragic enough in itself, they were at the hospital giving birth to their first children, twins, as their home was slowly destroyed.
It breaks my heart to think of this couple, worried enough about being parents for the first time, now starting their life as a family with absolutely nothing. It overwhelms me with emotion to think of all the joy they had setting up the nursery, all of the meals prepared by family waiting in a freezer to ease their first days parenting – all of it, gone.
It is through tears I write this last paragraph. Currently there are about 16 women wanting to help this family by packing freezer meals for them, as well as some dear friends who have donated cash to the grocery bills. We shall divide and conquer. We shall chop, bag and provide, not only food but, our support and concern for a family who could really use a helping hand.
Table for one?
13 CommentsThis time of year my office is a much quieter place than it is in the summer and the first thing on my mind when I get home is to change into some comfortable track pants and relax with a glass of wine. Curling into a corner of my couch should be enough to soothe the winter blahs I feel at the end of a long day, but it isn’t.
What relaxes me most, what softens the reality of a dark winter day, is cooking. And although I typically cook only for myself, I enjoy creating a food experience rather than just making something to eat. I like to think of food as an encounter more than just a necessity. Food should nourish but food should be enticing. I don’t just put my dinner on a plate. I want my meal to have an attraction beyond taste and, even if I am only cooking for one, I will put that effort into the presentation of my meals.
There is something truly invigorating about inhaling a combination of smells that you know blend into an amazing taste medley. And the effort of cooking these meals for one is not as taxing as people would think. A simple preparation of “real” food takes a few more minutes than opening a package of processed food and putting it in the oven, but the benefit far outweighs the effort.
Perhaps the artsy side of me weighs heavily on my plating but, regardless of the reason, I continue to put a concerted effort into each dinner I create. I take great pride in knowing that I nourished, not only my body but, my eyes and my mind. Food feeds the soul as much as it feeds the engine and as I dig into my meal I always feel happy knowing I didn’t reach for that can of Alphaghetti!
Gnome more dreams
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He hid in the tower’s apex. The moonlight sliced through the merciful darkness of his sanctuary, revealing his location. When the swallow finally found him and serenaded he would return to clay and his hopes of living would fossilize.
~~
polysyllabic profundities 