Guaranteed Ugly

I can almost count on waking up ugly if I drink alcohol, eat salty chips and have sugar the night before. Yep, it happened again. This mornings view in the bathroom mirror was plain “UGLY!”: puffy eyes and face, tired and heavy look… uck!

I have this friend that shines every time I see her. Her face is radiant and she’s always the picture of smart choices and squeaky clean health. She’s not a tall svelte blonde, she’s a short brunette  with curly hair who sparkles, has vibrant energy, eats her vegetables and makes sure to get out into the fresh air and run the country side. She loves it too.

When it comes down to it, we have a choice. We can do those things that feel good in the moment and wake up ugly the next day, or we can do those things that we can, over time, learn to love that will keep us shinning at any age.  

She asked for joy!

Do you ever pray for something and then wait  expecting for the answer to hit you  like a resounding trumpet from above? I asked for joy and realized early one morning that it had been with me for a long time.

Usually I’m up before my dogs, but Saturday mornings I attempt to pull the covers over my head and sleep.  Brinkley and Gracie have other ideas.  They play this game you might be familiar with,  ”King of the Mountain”…well, I’m the mountain. The girls vi to jump to the top and topple the other off of my sleeping body. I become a human trampoline.   I coax Gracie to snuggle with me under the covers (I’ll bet it’s 30 degrees in my room) and find that it’s just one of her ploys….alas, I discover a dirty, stinky, green tennis ball has been nuzzled under my arm pit.   I toss the ball across the room, they leap from the bed, I pull the covers over my head.   Have you ever heard of the game “gopher in the hole?”…. probably not, it’s the game my dogs play when I cover my head with the blankets.   They win….every time…..Ya gota lovum!!!

To some this may be an irritant, but for me I’m reminded of how much I enjoyed my boys Aaron and Nathan being silly and playing on the bed. I’m reminded of how I enjoyed the mornings when they bothered me for a glass of water or the need for a good cuddle.   Silly antics lighten my day. I prayed for joy, expecting something else and realizing that I’m surrounded by it every day of my life.

What’s “perfect” anyways?

Are you a “perfectist?” Do you believe that all will be well when life is “perfect”, the house is clean, the kids are getting “A’s” and the trees stop dropping leaves on your lawn?

What is your perfect standard? Straight lines, no mess, the picture of health, svelte, no coffee cups and candy wrappers thrown in the back seat of the car and an ever present smile on your face?

I’m thinking I need a life satisfaction adjustment. There’s something driving me and I think it’s this perfect thing, like I can finally achieve it and when I get there life will finally be great.

I’ve always mused about the forest and thought, maybe the forest is more like God’s standard of perfect. I mean, look it…dirt, dead leaves all over and decaying…trees in all shapes and sizes, some even dead for years laying on their side decaying with carpets of leaves on the earth floor. Although in appearance it’s disorganized it “serves.”

Piles of messy dead leave feed the soil, which feed the trees. Dead trees serve as shelter and provide food for creature and bug.   The green thriving life  filter and produce the  air we breath .

Maybe I’ve got this perfection thing wrong. Maybe I’ll never have perfect hair, or the best body or a clean floor. Maybe the perfect standard should be  about service.  And maybe I already have a perfect life  if I just allow the great Gardner of the forest to work with me and tend to me.   Maybe if I’m willing to let Him do His stuff in my life, I can relax and trust and enjoy what is….right now…PERFECT!

I love how she loves to run

I love how she loves to run.  Gracie that is.   I love how she finds the ball, no matter where it’s hidden and how she drops it at my feet and then heads for the outfield.

I love my red dahlias in the fall when the change of season is just around the corner, when they spread their color and  droop with the weight of the first heavy rain.  

I love how I have stories in my head, blog posts, philosophical thoughts ripe with hope and meaning and depth.

I love it when i surprise myself and succeed

I love pandora radio, music playing in the background all day long, Judy Collins enhancing mood and putting spice to memory.

I love friends who can connect in heart and head. Those who can be honest even when it hurts.

I love my sister and my sons, my nephew and my dogs.

I love Lisa who loves Aaron

I love waking up early in the morning because I know I have “white space,”  time to breath, walk slow and watch the creation open up like time lapse photography, a full and beautiful day unfolding in full before me.

I love a beer in the evening, Stella  or Pale Ale.

I love to see the sun go down on a Friday night, to know it’s time to rest and praise that there is hope in what seems to be a sad world.

I love popcorn and figs and Mocking Birds.  I love real mail from friends. I love cool screen savers and knitting a sweater which takes a long time.  I love to find a book that inspires me and people who can learn and admit when they’re wrong and who realize that it’s OK not to be perfect.

These some things that I love.  What do you love?

Tough Times?

Sometimes we struggle to know why we are suffering, why our prayers seem to go unanswered.  I woke thinking about my friend this morning. She has a young child, 5-years-old  who has suffered torturous medical interventions for most of his little life.  I wonder why  this little boy has to go through so much.  He has the most amazingly wonderful family; he’s so small, so innocent. I wonder why and then  just keep on praying.

I’ve lost dear friends, people so kind and wonderful and helpful.   And have family members who have faced one plight after the next, so undeserving of wrong treatment.  It’s hard sometimes to make sense of things.

This morning I thought of those who are going through tough times later in life.  How scary it is when we’re in our 50′s or 60′s and beyond when we face financial disaster.   We look ahead and say “what will happen to me?”

Sometimes it helps to remember others who have suffer before us and somehow pulled through.  I was led to grandma Bold’s life.  She had my mother when she was close to 50 and then in her late 50′s she and grandpa and 5 kids lost everything and had to pack up the car and move to California, bag and baggage.   The family pulled together and made the best of it.  Things worked out.   They sold pots and pans, worked for the Whirlpool Store, selling washing machines and appliances, canned their own food, fed their family and even bought a house, all this when they were in their 50′s and 60′s.   Things worked out.  Perhaps it was luck, or maybe something in their character which kept them plodding on, even with menial jobs.

One never knows how our current sufferings will one day help others.   It could be a decision we make, or a habit we have or something we endured for a long time that will pull someone out of tough times or hopelessness, just knowing that it can be done and that it’s possible.  Grandma Bold probably never knew that her story would one day help me  in a moment of discouragement and  hopelessness.   Not that she went through all this for me or my family, but her strength, character and experience makes me know there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.  

Keep Your Nose Above Water!

Saturday mornings I rise early, sometimes with the sun, pack the dogs up in my car and take off for the beach.  I walk the shores, laying life’s problems on the  power which created this amazing ocean.  I ponder my days already passed while my worries  rise and fall with the crashing waves.  I wonder what will happen  to my  loved ones who suffer from disappointment and trial and  I feel lost to solve their plight. I’m lost for words, lost for grand solutions, lost to know what my role is and  feel so powerless.    

Today there were grand waves;  so amazingly perfect, so amazingly large an inspiring example of power in motion.   Brinkley loves to ride the waves. She’s my “surfer dog”.   She leaps breast forward and hits the breaking swell head on.   She positions herself perfectly in rhythm with the swell and she fluidly rides to the shore.  

At times, with the oceans unpredictably, Brinkley’s overtaken by a giant frothy swell.  For a moment, she’s gone, enveloped by turbulent foam.   It takes my breath away, but then I look again and I see this nose torpedo straight up for air.  There she is, knowing that the most important thing is to dog paddle and “breath.”

Have you been knocked over by an unexpected swell, or storm?  Sometimes all we can do is rid the wave, tumble ,  dog paddle and keep our nose high.   We have to be like Brinkley who instinctively knows what to do. Trust the shore will soon be beneath your feet,  keep treading water and keep that nose up and ….

B R E A T H!  

 

Chew Your Food

I’m finding out that life doesn’t have to be so complicated. I’ve dieted for almost 40 years now. I guess  mom always thought I should be thinner. First it was Weight Watchers with Bean Sprout Spaghetti, Lettuce roll-ups instead of sandwiches and  then on to Adkin’s and Scarsdale, “Fit-for -Life”, Fat Flush, the Blood Type, South Beach and on and on. So many, it’s beyond counting. 

With each one, I further boxed myself in, convincing myself  I’d found  ”the Way!”  Years later having gained and lost 100′s of pounds, I’m left with a rigid belief system that is impossible to follow.  Beliefs like only spinach and salmon are good for  you (and of course the “experts” have wrecked Salmon now.  If it’s farm raised it’s toxic, which now leaves me with Spinach  and I don’t like it).  

I’ve  found myself recently going to another Health Practitioner who gave me, once again, another solution: twenty-one days on an herbal/rice based drink.  Absolutely discouraged following diligently, I gained about 5 #’s, and experienced horrible GERD (Acid Reflux)

I called a wise friend for help.  I was utterly amazed at what she said, “Carol, be easier on yourself.  Take the next 5 days and just eat moderately.   Eat anything you want.” Wow, what freedom!!  The key was “moderate” and the question came: “What is moderate?”  

I found myself remembering my Grandmother Bold who lived to 101.  She was always last at the table.  She had a practice of chewing her food.  She ate a pleasant basic diet and now and then had a cookie (one) or a piece of cake. She worked hard all day and had a stable demeanor.  She was a plodder.  What came to me when I asked my question was “chew your food Carol!”  

For the last three days I’ve chosen foods that I wanted, rather than from a “should” perspective.  I committed to chew what ever I ate 100 times.  (well, I don’t think I could get beyond 30 times, but I’m amazed at the results)  

Here’s the results I’ve gotten in just 3 days:  1.  I got to eat what I want  2.  I eat 1/2 as much because I’m eating slower and get full faster  3. My GERD is GONE!!   4. I drastically reduced the need to take enzymes capsules because saliva is rich in them.

So here’s other benefits of chewing your food.  You  can enjoy the food you’re eating because your eating what you really want rather than from your list of “shoulds”.  You can enjoy the person you’re talking to. You’re digestion improves. You eat 1/2 as much, thereby saving 1/2 on your grocery bill and you may not need to buy those enzymes at $28 a bottle.  

Ah yes, simplicity. All because I simply chew my food!!

Every minute full

Last night I saw the Seagulls floating in a sea of nothing I could touch or feel or see.  I watched the wind blow the trees and was courted by a Mocking Bird…”look at me! I’m over here!” he seemed to say.  I listened to the sound of water trickling down and flowing over the rocks in my pond and watched the day slide into twilight.

I seldom have moments like these because every minute is full.  Are yours?

Before we had iPods, Podcasts, Satellite TV (piping in every form of nothing), video games, news blasting on the radio about everything sad, everything bad.  We used to have moments to listen to that “still small voice” inside, but  now it’s crowded out.

We’re even convinced this is all good. “I’m staying informed, up to date with all the latest.” But when is enough, enough?  We can’t sleep, our digestion is all messed up. We don’t have time for our families, and when we finally sit at a table for dinner we’re distracted with blackberry messages and “texting”. We’ve forgotten the blessing on the other side of the table….a person!

I’m going to make more moments like I had last night. How about you?

Wool Sox

What brings you comfort? Is it complicated or simple? Last year a friend gave me a pair of wool sox. They’re thick and soft and warm and  when I come home from a stressed day they invite me to put them on and feel the sense of being in a cocoon, the sense of being taken care of and I calm.  They are a gift.

And then there’s my mom’s old blue wool sweater.  Through wearing and washing, it’s shrunk to the size a 15-year-old should wear.  It’s worn, ugly and too short, but when I put it on, I feel a sense of peace.

Today I walked on the beach, thinking of my family and their troubles and wanting to somehow fix them, especially  my sister who has gone through so many troubles.  My thoughts were calmed by the waves and the sun and the carefree playfulness of my dogs.  I came home with a sense of peace and I’m comforted.  

Sometimes we have big problems, to big for us to solve and it’s the small things we have and do that bring us back to what’s really important.  I’m taken to a scripture that reminds me where those big problems are solved.

 “That is why I tell you not to worry about everyday life—whether you have enough food and drink, or enough clothes to wear. Isn’t life more than food, and your body more than clothing? Look at the birds. They don’t plant or harvest or store food in barns, for your heavenly Father feeds them. And aren’t you far more valuable to him than they are?  Can all your worries add a single moment to your life? Matthew 6:25-28

We have no guarantees that our country and our world will  always be at peace, that we’ll always be able to live the lives we lived, but if our world inside has peace then we carry that with us into what ever place we live.  

“A Still Small Voice”

We live in a “hurry up -rapid fire- constant change” world’ too much to do & everyone wants something from you. When finally you have a few quiet moments the phone rings or your blackberry pings and instead of a comforting friend, it’s one of the many who want your time or money or soul.  

What’s left to give? Our lives are crowded, our days filled with tsunami’s  and our thoughts rapid fire, “fix this”, “do that”, “call him/her” and so on. We’re burned out, stimulated with a million new solutions books and  the how-to-do’s in managing this new world of challenges and obligations. 

“Why not  attack  problems head on?” But what if they’re coming from the front, the side, behind above and below?  The fact is we can’t control all these problems and our thoughts trick us into thinking we can. We spin round and round;  day, evening and night.  It’s bigger than we can manage by ourselves and we need help.  

This morning I woke,  my mind in a spin and I was weary of strategies and re-workings and  solutions.  Early, a still small voice urged me, “get up, put on your hat and shoes and take the dogs to the beach”; no makeup, no coffee,  two dogs and a tennis ball.  I’m home now, with a refreshing perspective.

It’s so easy to get caught up in our own greatness, like we can control it all.  We forget about simplicity, that a walk on the beach, listening to the rhythm of waves and wind or the seagulls call could ground life’s perspective.  

Solutions to our problems comes through a bigger greatness than ourselves, a powerful force that knows what is best. Sometimes that greatness comes through a “still small voice ” which urges us to do something which may seem to be retreating or  running away. It says “listen” instead of speak, “breath in salt air”,  ”stop and hear the song of a bird,” “walk!”, “play ,” or “dig in the dirt and plant!”  

So many of our problems solve themselves. From my  years on earth I should know by now  that I’m not so great  and powerful that I can fix all this.  I’m not so smart that I can enlighten the world with my perfect solutions.  

I’m comforted when I stop and ask for help that there is a power greater than me that I can depend on.  There is a solution which comes from a request from a prayer. Just ask and then listen.  You’ll be amazed at how simple the answer can be.  Perhaps a warm bath, or a fire and soft music, maybe laughter with sushi and family or friends.  

After a rough week, I’m ready to rest. My sweet dogs are resting in comfort by a warm fire, I’ve had my coffee and am ready for a bath and soft music.  I’m resting the cares of my life on that Power greater than me and I will wait for the direction from that “still small voice” that comforts me.  

It’s a green thing

I’m a farm girl living in the suburbs longing for the life I lost as a little girl.  Not to go into a long story about love and loss, but the soil is in my soul–that’s where “eat dirt and thrive!” comes from.  The closer I am to my original connection to the earth–the calmer my body, mind and soul are.  I love what God made! It’s beautiful and healing.

I read this book called “Crazy busy, over stretched, over worked and about to snap“.  Just the title spoke to my Silicon Valley lifestyle.  How can we manage it all?  There’s always more–another idea, another discovery, another product and we all rush with the herd, line up and purchase soon to be bored and stressed; only content for a few hours or days and then the cycle goes—my life, perhaps your life–desire/obtain/loss, desire/obtain/loss….but peace?

I want to share my pursuits of a simpler life, my struggles between healthy living practices and temptation: should  I get an iPhone or a Blackberry, or utterly rebel from the coprorate, social collar and leash.  Should I put pen to paper in the early hours or power on my Dell and skate the Internet streets? Should I turn my compost and pail my gray water to my new garden plot or take the dogs to the beach like I said I’d do last night. Do I even have time?  perhaps just a few minutes to pray and ask God for peace of mind while I hurry with the herd, desire/obtain/loss…

Gyms and Compost

I have this thing about Gyms. I think they’re plastic and smelly.  A couple years ago, I decided, for the last time, that I’d try it out again, signed up, paid cash for one year, ($400) and went 4x’s, thus the story of my life.

 The fact is I hate them.  There’s something in side of me that is saying: “Carol, at the end of the day, your body might look better and maybe you’ll have a longer life, but will it be richer”.  How much of going to the gym was making this world a better place? Oh yes, and …. I look terrible in spandex and sweat!

 No argument about exercise.  I need it. It’s just got me stuck. I’d rather do what I’m doing right now; write about it.  I had this enormous epiphany last month.  I think I actually do exercise.  Hmmm….me, exercise?  Yes, I just never give myself credit for the hours I spend in the garden, the digging, the lifting, the squatting and pulling and pushing, not to mention it heals my soul and I can do it in my pajamas if I want to…no one’s looking.    Well, I decided to put routine to it, time myself and see if it could be deemed a fitness program.  So each night, I design the next days program. Here’s the one I made up last night.

 10 min:  Pail my gray water (23# bucket to 1/5^th acre)  

10 min:  Dig new garden bed in front driveway                

10 min:  Jump rope / toss ball for the dogs                     

10 min:  Prepare vegetable bed (lifting 43# bag of manure)      

5 min:    Prune roses and clean out green beans    

 It all adds up to 45 minutes of pleasure for me.  I love it, got my heart rate up, dusted off the compost went in to fix my steel cut oats, blueberries and flax seed, while I multitasked: dry hair, put on makeup and suit up in prep for my commute over the hill to Silicon Valley…ah yes another day of consulting.                                                       

A good days work

 

 

 

          

The S-L-O-W W-A-Y

I love Saturday’s.  It’s “dog beach day”, “sleep in day!”, “quiet slow day”, my day to rest, restore, and contemplate life and meaning.  I call it Sabbath.  I read some research that touts we all need one day in seven to rest.  I hear we’re designed for this.  It wasn’t easy at first.  It was like throwing a stick in the spokes.     I’m a “Type- A” with an ever present goal of productivity. You know like “how much can I do in an hour.” I didn’t know the meaning of a S-L-O-W  W-A-Y. It wasn’t’ ok for me to give myself a pedicure or park a chair in the back yard among the Kiwi’s, Persimmons and Carrots and soak up “free” vitamin D or even start a morning fire in my woodstove and cuddle up on my comfortable futon and write and read or just enjoy the simple quiet.

I remember my boss asking me one year, “Carol, what do you need?” I’m sure she was puzzled by my answer. “White Space” I said.  You know, like a pause between paragraphs, something that clears a space to actually appreciate what I do or see a better way. I relish when Friday comes cause I know I can stop.  I look forward to the S-L-O-W  W-A-Y, even if it’s just for 24 hours.  It’s Peet’s Garuda day (my favorite coffee).  The dogs start  to rattle the bed, the kennel, or sheets about 6:30 am.  They do what ever it takes to remind me that the sand awaits, (even spit a dirty tennis ball in my face).  Sometimes we invite my little 84-year-old neighbor Leone or friend Dwight or nephew Sammy.  We see seals and dolphins; sand crabs and sometimes dig up an occasional clam. The salt air works like a sedative, after about 30 minutes you’re just about in bliss.  I discover joy and a general appreciation for life on this day.  It’ s a good day to reflect on all the great things that I have, like my two sons Aaron and Nathan, my sister Robin and nephew Sammy and my step mother & friend, Marcia and extended family like Kevin and Dwight and Bridget and Marisa.  I love my life on this day. I’m grateful.

 

 

Just for Today

 

I know, you’ve probably read this from time to time, but I wanted to put it in my writings because it’s so encouraging to me.  It speaks to my impatience, my perfectionism, my idealism, fear and so on…

Just for today I will try to live through this day only, and not tackle my whole life problem at once.  I can do something for twelve hours that would appall me if I felt that I had to keep it up for a lifetime.

Just for today I will be happy. This assumes to be true what Abraham Lincoln said, that, “most folks are as happy as they make up their minds to be.”

Just for today I will adjust myself to what is and not try to adjust everything to my own desires.  I will take my “luck” as it comes, and fit myself to it.

Just for today I will try to strengthen my mind. I will study. I will learn something useful.  I will not be a mental loafer. I will read something that requires effort, thought and concentration.

Just for today I will exercise my soul in three ways: I will do somebody a good turn, and not get found out; if anybody knows of it, it will not count.  I will do at least two things I don’t want to do—just for exercise.  I will not show anyone that my feelings are hurt; they may be hurt, but today I will not show it.

Just for today I will be agreeable. I will look as well as I can, dress becomingly, talk low, act courteously, criticize not one bit, not find fault with anything and not try to improve or regulate anybody except myself.

Just for today I will have a program, I may not follow it exactly, but I will have it. I will save myself from two pests; hurry and indecision.

Just for today I will be unafraid. Especially I will not be afraid to enjoy what is beautiful, and to believe that as I give to the world so the world will give to me.

–author unknown

What’s good about Crab Grass?

It’s dark out.  I’m used to getting up and heading out for the garden in the light, but now the sun just begins to peak its head about 6:30 am.  Not a lot of time to get things done in the garden.  Hey,  I wrote down my exercise routine this morning:

10 min:  Pail my gray water (23# bucket to 1/5^th acre)   

10 min:  Pull out green beans                                               

10 min:  Prepare bed for sugar snap peas  

15 min:  Yoga stretches

 

I wonder if pulling crab grass gets credit for Yoga stretches. I sure hope so, because this morning my bed preparation was basically digging deep to uproot masses of crab grass.  I often wonder why my produce isn’t as large and vibrant as my neighbors and I would guess the varmint is stealing nutrients from the chicken manure. 

 

Being that I have to live with it (because I refuse to use poison) I’d like to think it had something good to offer.  So, let’s think: well the dogs graze on it, perhaps it has some nutritional value, but mostly I think they use it as an emetic, like herbal Ipecac.  It builds muscle; I have to tug and pull at it consistently, so perhaps I could call it my garden gym rowing machine. And then there’s building character and patience. My friend Kevin offered to help me in the garden so I asked him to open up a 4ft, by 2ft crab grass plot for a rose bed. Two hours later I found him digging down all the way to China just to eradicate the stuff.  And then, perhaps it’s a curse that I just have to learn to live and stimulating my creativity.  So I mow it and pretend it’s a beautiful bed of Kentucky Blue Grass.

 

Time for breakfast:  Blue berry eggnog, brown rice, stir fried kale and a poached egg.  (I know, I’m wired)  Have a great day.

No time to eat!

I’m looking down at the floor of my Passat and seeing a green bowl and spoon with the residue of left over oatmeal and cinnamon. Next to it is a dirty cup which used to be coffee.   Isn’t it amazing that so many of us have no time to eat, but we’re still fat?  I reflect back on that morning three days ago when I was thinking I needed to rush, stirring my oats while looking at the clock.  “Got to hurry!  “I’ll have to eat while I’m putting on my makeup again!”  (and obviously ended up being finished during my commute while dialing into an 8:00 am conference call)

Seems to me what used to be a peaceful social time, (depending on your upbringing) has turned into another one of those “crazy busy , got to be productive” activities.  

Grandma bold chewed every bite 100 times (to the family’s distain, as she was always left behind at the table) She lived to 101. What happened to breakfast and a morning paper or to dinner with mom and pop discussing world events.  I eat alone with my dogs or go to the local taqueria ,  seems like family is scattered and everyone’s busy.   My health practitioner says’ I’m “Yin deficient”   In short my energy is depleted.  How could it not be….I’m always in a hurry.  Time to go now… got lots to do!

Cesar’s Way!!

After a couple nudges, one from my health practitioner and another from “Cesar’s Way” a well known “people training” Dog Psychology book, I’m adding 30 minutes of walking with the dogs to my routine.  They are, of course, extremely happy about this and I know I will be eventually. it just seems so unproductive.  Now I  know you will argue with me, but as a person who looks at every activity as having to have “meaning for  higher calling” kinda thing, I just feel I could be developing a new plot in the garden for my elderly neighbor’s or something like that.  But…I know walking is a healthy activity.  I’ll just hook up to my iPod so i can listen to a book on tape.  Ahhh…..multitasking!

So Many Choices

Sunday Morning and so much to do.  Which activity would serve me best?… “I don’t know.”  This is a familiar scenario and many of you may relate.  I’ve always had a difficult time determining what the “A” priorities were.  Being an “A-Type” personality, it always seemed to me that they were all “A’s”.  With that kind of thinking life can be crazy.   

I’m remembering a telephone conversation I had with my mom one day. I was in a panic, feeling completely overwhelmed and out-of-sorts and unable to see clear to what to do next.  ”Carol, what does your kitchen look like right now?” she said.   “It’s a disaster!” I answered back.   “Do you have a dish pan?”  ”Yes,” I answered.  ”I want you to put all the dishes in the dish pan and then open the oven door, put the dish pan in  and shut it.”  ”OK,” I said.  ”Now wipe off the counter,” Mom said. and I did.  ”Now, how do you feel?”  ”Better!” I said.  (remarkably better)

Sometimes the “A” priority is simply doing the thing that clears the space for us to just sit and sort things out. I’m beginning to wonder if we’ve got this priority/productivity thing right?  Life can be so very complicated sometimes.  Create a space for yourself where you can have an element of peace. Then sit and determine what your “A” priorities are…

or maybe choosing a few “C’s” would serve you better.

Have a great day!!

(time for me to go find that dish pan!)

Be Still

Be Still

 

I love to walk the beach with my dogs on Saturday morning; early, before the other dog owners come out to play.  I have one of those long blue wands, a tennis ball tosser that keeps the dogs busy swimming and running out ahead while I meditate and allow the ocean to cleanse my mind and clear a space for listening to God, a space to pay attention.  

For about three years now, I’ve had an arm/shoulder pain that has nagged me since the week I took care of my father who was dying from cancer.   I suspect the cause is both emotional and physical.  I’ve done the massage thing, the “do” exercise and “don’t” exercise thing, learned to sleep on my back rather than my side and sought help from professionals.  It’s improved but there’s a ghost pain that lingers keeping me always vigilant in effort to prevent it from getting worst.

I noticed an awkwardness in throwing the ball this morning. My swing jerked and the ball landed short. I had that old reminder of tendonitis in my upper arm calling to me.   I was blaming the wand, but then stopped and paid attention to the way I was throwing.

Is there something you’re doing that’s causing you pain?

Sometimes in these morning moments when I slow way down I hear a quiet voice in the waves .  ”Pay attention and make an adjustment,” it said.

Slowing down and spending time alone can bring answers to those nagging problems. We might even find that it’s through our pain we find a way to peace and healing?  Amazingly I’m finding, the answers aren’t always huge adjustment or extreme effort, but rather just small and gentle ones.

If I’m not available to listen I might not hear the call or those gentle words that say “be still and listen.” This morning I finally got that I was throwing at an angle and straining out to the side. The result was not only ineffective, but also causing me pain.

Have you ever heard the phrase “be still”?  Can you find time to do this?  Can you turn off the radio, the iPod, the TV, the internet?  Can you just stop and notice?  What’s causing you pain? Can you get away and be quiet? There’s a voice that can show you the way out, but we need to pay attention and turn down the noise and listen.   

Perfect Partners!

There’s a verse that says “where you are weak you will be made strong” Did you ever think that you would be made strong by the presence of someone else?  Like Brinkley and Gracie; Brinkley is a Golden retriever who LOVES to swim and wrestle and play tug-o-war. Gracie is a Border Collie who runs like the wind and, LOVES to be 1^st and herd and accomplish great things.  She loves achievement.  They’re perfect partners.

Here’s an example.  Both dogs love to retrieve the ball and when we go to the beach Gracie is a competitive bolt of lightening on sand. On the other hand, less serious, Brinkley bounces and trots in the chase with an almost idealic  bliss, almost always coming up short of the goal, but still having fun. 

But in the water, it’s Brinkley who’s the winner because with water beyond elbows, Gracie is a chicken.  Here’s where Brinkley leaps to her best. I toss the ball out beyond the waves, she waits patiently for it to crash and then hits the foam, chest high and paddles to the bobbing yellow goal.  She’s my “surfer dog” who rides the waves. But waiting for her return, in the shallow surf is Gracie ready for the relay pass and dart back to the finish line (Me!).  Knowing her position, Brinkley drops the ball between her feet and Gracie runs with glee as though it was all about her achievement. 

They’re perfect partners, Gracie strong and deliberate, Brinkley good natured and patient, the weakness of one is the strength of the other.  Are you made stronger by the presence of someone else?

When Is It Too Much?

 

I had this utter longing for “more” last night.  I had a great dinner with my son and girlfriend, two tacos, some chips and a beer and was full, but I wanted more. I wanted candy and popcorn and more chips and another beer, for the evening to go on, and a whole bunch more in effort to stretch out that good feeling I had. I didn’t want it to be over: the meal, the fellowship or the night.  There’s something about pleasure that’s addictive.  Whether food or shopping or the desire to keep winning a race, being glued to a video game, the internet or conversations on your cell phone. When is it time to draw the line and stop?  And what are we avoiding?  

 

I love the first line in one of my favorite books “The Road Less Traveled”  by M. Scott Peck;    

“LIFE IS DIFFICULT!”  

How often we avoid those difficulties, those quiet moments when that “still small voice” speaks in order to set us on the right path. What do you look to that takes you to another place?  It calms you, soothes you and tells you everything is OK when all around the alarms ring saying–run or change your course, or “STOP!” What do you use to distract yourself from paying attention to those areas that need to change?  

For me it was food and romance, or being “over busy”, no time for reflection.  These things sedated me and brought a fanciful calm.   So short lived though, leaving in my wake a life unattended and spinning out of control.  

Peck tells us, after years of research  that self discipline and the ability to delay gratification and accept responsibility for oneself is the road to true satisfaction. It’s tough to open our eyes and review the life we’ve created around us and admit what we’ve caused in our choices.  We ignore as long as we can and sometimes for a lifetime. Peace come from effort, from facing our pain and choosing the disciplined more difficult path.  When we stop, admit our wrong, ask for help and change course with help from the higher source  and determination we can’t help but win!  

 

Strange Friends (true story)

It’s strange I would think of Bill while reviewing what I’m thankful for.  He was a mean old man who paced my front walk for years with a frown, a mug of coffee and a dangling cigarette. All the neighbors knew him to be an odd old nosey sort who had nothing better to do than to polish his cars or sit in his 1950 Blue Chevy pick-up listening to county western 8-track tapes.

My family has owned this house for about 30 years now, first my parents and now me.  He was always a cantankerous neighbor, known for his variety of complaints: police visits, letters threatening to go before this commission or that commission for stuff like, “your fence is too low or too high” or “your plants are stealing the water from my yard” or “your dog is barking!”

The final step for me was the day an animal control officer knocked.  I asked him to be a witness and accompany me to Bill’s door.  The officer watched as I confronted this final blow.  “Bill, I’m not sure why you’re so unhappy, but I’ve done everything to appease and comply with you.  I tore out 15 bush cherry trees, re-landscaped our borders, put a bark collar on my dog, and even shared my flowers and fruit. This harassment has to stop” Finally it was me with the threat trailing seven years of his unreasonable complaints. For the next two years we avoided eye contact. 

 I know it is said that we should pray for our enemies, but when you’re really mad at someone that’s hard to do.   I relented.  I had no other option. Nothing else had worked.

One Saturday afternoon I saw him walking toward me.  “Oh no, not again!! I thought.” I asked a friend to stay near by and be a witness.  What came from his lips was the last thing I ever expected to hear: “Carol, would you forgive me for treating you the way I have? I had no call to act the way I did!” My resentment melted away and though we were separated by a short picket fence, I threw up my arms inviting a hug and said “In a second, Bill…I’ll forgive you in a second!”  We both cried. 

In those two years of silence between us I was told that his son committed suicide, that his wife was bed ridden and his other son and he had been estranged for 20 years.  He began to share with me his regrets, that he had a grand daughter he’d never seen, and about his abusive alcoholic father.  We became wonderful friends. He’d leave camellia flowers on my porch and even invited me to meet his daughter.  The three of us sat on the porch and drank wine and laughed, although I’d never met his wife.

Early this spring I received a phone call.  Bill had driven himself to the hospital.  His wife was crippled and had fallen and broken her arm a week before and there was no one to check on her.  I found her sitting by the kitchen window.  She was distraught and had no way to get to Bill.  My neighbor and I helped her to the car and to the hospital and wheeled her through the corridors to find Bill strapped to his bed.  We left, planning to give them time alone when a tall man with strawberry blonde hair passed us by and walked in the room.  As we walked down the hall I heard wales and cries of a mother being reunited with a long lost son.  Amazingly he turned out to be an employee at the hospital. 

Bill died that week.  He never came home.  But the sun is shinning again next door.  His wife is walking and driving herself to appointment and store, and she has a little granddaughter with beautiful shinning hair who plays in the yard as her son works to brings life back to the home that had been dark for so long.  There’s happy sounds coming from over the fence and a healing that miraculously came after, I believe, from a little prayer for my enemy.  I love Bill and I miss him and on this day before Thanksgiving he is one of those people I’m very grateful to have known.

Willingness?

I still struggle.  I turn another year older in January and in this position I look forward and look back, considering where I’m at, what I’ve done and what I want.  In some areas I’ve made amazing stride and in others I’m still stuck.

 

This morning I was mesmerized by the playful energy of Gracie and Brinkley as they tugged and growled and wrestled, their fur glistening as they tumbled.   My memory went back to a long drive  to the vet three years ago; the resolve to end her struggle and have put her down. 

 

 

She was sick and miserable, scabby and ¾’s of her body hairless.  For four years, I’d tried everything; $9,000 of vet fees, tests, treatments, organic home cooked foods (as kibbles made her sicker).  I’d rubbed her with ointment, took her to salt water to sooth her and even tried acupuncture.  So many times I asked God, why she had to suffer.  She was patient and loyal and loving.  I cried so many hours over her plight and suffered humiliation as I felt people avoid and whisper and look.   

Today it is much different. As you can see from pictures, she’s better.  And I’ve asked myself many times what happened, and what finally worked.  In honesty, it was a combination of things.  But this morning as I bemoaned my struggles, I was struck by a thought and maybe in it’s simplicity it was the answer.  I became willing, willing to let go of my way and turn her life over to a power greater than both of us.  I became willing to admit that all I did, all I could humanly do wasn’t working. 

Are you stuck?  Do you go round and round with the same challenges year after year? Has your stuckness stolen your energy and your hope? Have you resolve to give up?  I’ve been there so many times.  And now believe that it is because I won’t let go of the way that keeps me stuck.  It’s a vicious cycle.  Perhaps I’ve something to learn from the memory of what worked with Brinkley. That one moment when I was “willing” to give up my way of doing things.  

China Plates

This Thanksgiving I dusted off my grandmothers antique Havilland China.  They’re beautiful, hand painted and fragile.  The dust is evidence they’re rarely used and they sit high up on a shelf to ensure protection. 

 

I got to thinking about how we people can be like plates.  Like china we can be “breakable” and “fragile”.  We may find ourselves lonely, never called and wonder why.  Are we fragile or overly sensitive? Do we easily break?

 

On the other hand, what about we “paper plates”; those treated like a commodity, used and dirtied and tossed; easily replaced. Perhaps not appreciated or valued or cared for.

 

I think the best of all are the “family plates.”  They’re the ones used on a daily basis.  Not perfect, perhaps have some cracks and chips, but also breakable.  They find themselves however, at the table every day, enjoying conversation and life and community.  

To BE or NOT to be

I got to thinking this morning.  I wonder how many of us spend more time trying “not” to be something than focusing on what we “want” to be or the positive attributes we wanted to groom.  

I catch myself being really judgmental sometimes saying:  ”I’m never going to be like that;” like have “that” attitude or “those” problems or eat “that” way or talk that way, etc.  It’s kinda negative, don’t you think?  I wonder what my world would be like if I just chose to focus on  positive attributes and admirable goals.

There’s this really cool scripture in Philippians. It says for us to fix our thoughts on what is true, honorable, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent and worthy of praise.

If we look at our life as one big bucket of what ever we choose to fill it with, wouldn’t it be a better choice to pick stuff like this to think about. Not to be a Pollyanna and ignore what is happening around me, but I think the challenges that are around me would be easier to handle if I filled most of my bucket with who I “wanted” to be rather than who I “didn’t want” to be.