Appreciation

I am beginning to feel more and more at home here. I don't quite know why.

My life is fleshing out and feeling more "real."

I have discovered a new way to get over to the business part of town that is pretty efficient. I can walk in various safe ways for as long a I like without it becoming too repetitive. I've even been able to do some building for my hobby!

I heard from all three of my children this weekend and that really makes everything almost perfect.

Now I need to simply enjoy it all and not worry about what could go wrong.

Forever

"People who need people are the luckiest people" because they know that if you really want others to be interested in you, you have to show an interest in them.

It's not enough to just be good at what you do, unless you are among that top few who are so famous people fall all over every step you take. (Because they don't really know you.)

That doesn't mean cultivating false friendships, it just means being interested enough to comment and listen and make others aware that you like what they do. Hero worship has a tendency to be short term, but mutual caring can be forever.

Fitbit walking

Interesting day walking. It did not feel particularly hot, but it must have been very humid because I was dripping wet every time I finished.

I still managed to be four steps short of 12, 000 steps and it is early in the evening. I also made my goal of reaching five miles or more and today I am at 5.23. The next important milestone for me is active minutes, which are periods of moderate activity that last 10 minutes or more. I have 94 today, which is average for this week. And I have walked 250 steps or more for 8 out of 9 hours.

I find all of that interesting, but the thoughts that flittered through my mind while I did it also intrigue me. A sample might be: it is good to meet other people's mothers at weddings because you are both dressed in your very best! That one makes me chuckle.

Also, I noticed it was a good day for older women packing a few extra pounds to walk at Franklin Park around eleven. We are a friendly, but often very strangely dressed, bunch. Of course most of the students have already left for home.

In the end I was noticing the clouds which are strange squarish shapes and wild wispy angel wing shapes.

This was a pretty typical day of walking for the past week, but I am so exhausted I haven't yet had the energy to go finish making dinner.

Tomorrow we are going to Lincoln's New Salem. There will be lots of walking there, but of a different sort. I'll be interested in seeing how it racks up on my Fitbit.

Common sense

Summer begins.

It should be better than the last two summers because my feet are working this year, but it reminds me that it is possible to do almost anything if I start small.

This is the third time I've had to restart walking as an exercise and each time it began with simply walking some place close like the trash can, or corner.

I hope to be hitting tennis balls again this year, but that too will mean starting very slow.

In the past I would have set impossible goals and then wonder why they were exactly that. Now I know some of my limitations and while I don't like to admit I have any, they are there.

The bones in my feet even hurt in bed, if I forget to take a Tylenol twice a day, or stretch my toes too far. That is simply a fact of life now. My bones and tendons cannot deal with uneven ground unless I am very careful and deliberate.

I can deal with these things. They are so much better than sitting in a chair all day.

My mantra is "slow."

Dream

Do not believe those folks who tell you it cannot be done!

All those old wive's tales are there to give people excuses for not doing something.

Don't believe it when someone says you are too old, or too big, or too anything to begin something new. You may learn it differently, or at a different pace, but you bring things to it someone else might not.

You may not be the world's best, but then again you might. You'll never know if you don't even try and why do you have to be the world's best anyway?

As long as you aren't hurting anyone else you should do whatever you dream of. That's where new ideas come from.

Jump in and try! Enjoy life! Be creative! Be brave!

Who we are

We are strange and wondrous creatures when we allow ourselves to be all that we are.

We talk and laugh, play and work.

We make friends and family and do good works wherever we are.

We bring each other gifts of

Joy

Contentment

Belonging

Laughter

And so much else.

When we just allow ourselves to be who we are.

Questions

I awakened to a world of possibilities this morning. Stretching, looking out at the sunshine glancing off the trees and the clouds billowing in the sky, smelling the first hints of summer wafting through my window, left me feeling just like I did at ten years old.

I rose. Showered. Walked. And questions rained down on me, but I know from long experience that answers to questions come in their own time.

Trying to force answers, trying to make them fit, is like trying to pick a bloom before the stem has even emerged from the ground.

All things happen in their own time, both pleasant and unpleasant and the best thing I can do is allow this to happen.

Growth comes through research, through a mind open to all the possibilities and experiences that living this life entails. Questions need to lie fallow while the sun shines, the rain falls and the earth cares for them.

Eventually the answers burst into bloom and I will have the choice to pick them or not.

Peace and goodwill towards all

Change often feels threatening.

The unknown causes anxiety. It can rattle our foundation, shake up our comfort level, cause us to question ourselves.

Am I really who I think I am? Can I walk the walk as well as talk the talk? Am I as loving as I profess to be?

Resentments are often misunderstandings.

If there is any chance for goodwill and peace to prevail I need to love others the way I love my dearest child and give them the same benefit of the doubt when there is a problem.

Love is not some esoteric theology or idea. It is right down to earth thoughts and action.

Librairies

I was four years old when I saw a picture of a small table and chairs surrounded by bookshelves. It was so appealing to me that I never forgot it, but it wasn't until a year later that I saw my first library at school. The idea that I could check out a book on the kindergarten shelf and take it home was like a dream come true.

I didn't really get to go to the public library until I was around eight or nine and even then it was a rare treat. Like so many other families back then, we were a one car family and libraries were not big on my mother's list of fun places to go, so school libraries were always high on my list of places to be.

As a teenager with a bicycle, I would often go to the Lincoln Library in Springfield and lose myself in the stacks. I remember sitting on that low stool with wheels on the glass floor of the balcony for hours on end. We didn't have the Internet back then, so being able to just delve through whatever my heart desired was an adventure that suited me perfectly.

In college I loved being able to wander through the old library, up spiral staircases, into little nooks and crannies, discovering hidden treasures like the Oxford English Dictionary, or a new set of ghost stories shelved in spooky old places.

I worked in a legal library for a large insurance company for a while before having children. One of the stranger things I did was iron newspapers!

When my youngest child started going to preschool two mornings a week I began volunteering in a school library. And I'm still doing it!

Different libraries at different times in my life, but always the places I felt most at home.

Not really alone

I was so sad last night and today, so I did what I've always done on these occasions.

I turned inside myself, looked backwards, and finally turned to the natural world, (as opposed to the unnatural one?) for comfort and understanding.

I see trees whose roots reach deep into the darkness, down into the heart of the earth where they draw sustenance and find a place to anchor themselves. And still, they lie here on the surface where children walk over them in games of balance, squirrels slip into them to bury acorns, and I see them to remind me that they exist.

I look at the shadows intermingled with flickering sunlight as breezes blow through the trees above and once more think of darkness and light and how they intertwine.

I hear crows warning each other that a stranger is in their midst and wonder what it is like to have wings and fly in the light, or no legs at all and wither in the sun. And I think I know both of these things.

I go round and round my favorite old park lost in a walking meditation and finally realize that in among the darkness and the light, the beauty and the sorrow, we are all still united by something greater than we will ever be alone.

Research thoughtfulness

Thoughtfulness is not an easy trait to cultivate.

Knowing what to do is the first hurdle. When to do something and when not to can involve both protocol and local customs.

Knowing when or where exceptions could, or should, be made is the next hurdle.

And finally, doing something because it is the right thing to do when it is not what I really want to do, is the biggest hurdle.

Being thoughtful is a sign of maturity, and maybe self-control.

Emily Post was obviously not one to give in to passions.

Stretching

The hardest thing about wonderful events is that after all the planning and waiting and excitement, when they are all over, there is sometimes a sort of let down.

There is the long drive home. The dressy clothes are all brushed off and put away. My world returns to Normal. Illinois that is, where I live.

No more dreams of beautiful music and champagne. Well, that's not true. There are dreams, but now they are of a past, not future, event.

Pictures help. I look at them and remember all the sweetness of that day. I think that is one reason I love taking pictures. By the time I edit them, rearrange them, post them, talk about them and look at them a thousand times, I have stretched that day out a long way.

Now I keep going to Facebook to read comments and see who else is looking at pictures. That stretches it out even more.

It's hard to let go of lovely times.

Sacred space

A violin is playing When you wish upon a star and I am sitting in front of a big old classic Greek Revival southern mansion. Briefly the home of Alabama's governor from 1837 to 1841, today it is the site of Bestest's wedding. It could not be more beautiful. A gentle spring breeze blows across a green lawn filled with rows of carefully aligned white chairs. Magnolia trees surround us. There is a whisper of magic everywhere.

It is truly a once upon a time day.

The front door opens and a sweet little flower girl emerges scattering petals across the porch and down the stairs. She is followed by the wedding party who quietly align themselves along both sides of the steps waiting for the grooms to appear. Later a miniature ring bearer in a tiny tuxedo brings the rings through that door. It is a day of balance and peace.

The grooms are straight out of a fairy tale, one tall and distinguished with luxuriant white hair and the other younger and astonishingly handsome, but it is not their looks that will make this day. It is who they are. Their vows say it all. These men are sincerely conscious people who really understand what is important in life. Their vows fill every heart with joy and most eyes with tears.

All day long these two will continue to reflect the love back out into rooms full of elegantly dressed relatives, friends and coworkers. No one is left out. Even those who have stepped beyond the veil are present in the eyes and hearts surrounding these men. I have never been to a wedding that was so all inclusive and heart tuggingly sweet.

Everywhere I turn people are sharing stories that warm my heart.

This wedding raises the bar so high above the bacchanalian rites of many others that it feels surreal. Somehow I have entered a sacred space where peace and love envelope everyone.

And behind it all is this song.

When you wish upon a star
Makes no difference who you are
Anything your heart desires
Will come to you
If your heart is in your dream
No request is too extreme
When you wish upon a star
As dreamers do
Fate is kind
She brings to those who love
The sweet fulfillment of
Their secret longing
Like a bolt out of the blue
Fate steps in and sees you through
When you wish upon a star
Your dreams come true

Songwriters
LEIGH HARLINE, NED WASHINGTON

Bonding

My daughter and I are bonding.

She is moving from child to friend at last and I am enjoying this.

I wonder when this transition began? It certainly took its time coming, but that's okay.

I have lots of time and no better use for it than finding the love in each moment.

The purpose of the guest

Bestest is getting married and in a couple of hours my daughter and I will set off for the wedding!

A lot of thought has gone into this event -- on both sides, but the important things were already set in stone. I need to remember that.

Of all the people in the world no one knows me better than Bestest. He's seen me at my worst and, hopefully, now he will see me at my best!

The truth is this weekend won't change us at all. So why am I so anxious?

Probably because I will be meeting almost all the other important people in his life. I've already met the love of his life. We like each other a lot. But what about all those other people? His mother, his father, his brothers and friends? Does it matter what they think?

Probably not and they will probably like me anyway. What's not to like?

Marriage is a beautiful and mysterious sacrament. A joining of two people so in love and so compatible they want to spend the rest of their lives together. My job, as a guest, is to surround them with as much love as possible.

I can do that.

Once in a while

Fairy tales do come true, it can happen to you . . . but,

You have to be a proactive little fairy.

No hiding under mushrooms, or pretending to be asleep till Prince Charming comes by to kiss you awake.

You have to row, row, row, your own boat merrily down, or up, the stream and keep your eyes peeled, your courage up and your heart open.

You need a pinch of imagination and, most of all, you have to believe in yourself.

When other people want to help row, or teach you how to fly, get to know them. If they say, "You run like a girl." Figure out if that is an insult or a compliment. Some people are good for the long haul and some people need an overhaul.

They don't get to make all the decisions. You make some too.

If, at the end of each day, you can sit back and think about what happened and you find yourself happy after everything that occurred . . . you're on the right road.

The best!

What makes us believe that people are better, smarter, more special, than other living organisms?

By our standards we are the best, but our standards are only based on what we know and expect and like.

Maybe we are just the most judgemental! Or maybe not. Could it be that some animals pity us, or find us adorably inept? Obviously many fear us. We really are the most dangerous, intent on controlling as much as possible and totally capable of destroying our the world.

Human beings are always trying to find tests that prove which animals are the closest to us (and therefore worth the most?) Once we thought the fact that we make and use tools separated us from other animals. Then we discovered that chimpanzees also made tools. Now we know lots of animals make tools and even more interesting, they are pretty good problem solvers all on their own. Of course the ability to problem solve is not equal in all humans either.

We are excited when our dogs understand a lot of our words. Add in all the other trained animals and I begin to wonder how come they can understand our words, but we can't understand them? Who speaks dolphin, or dog?  Actually how many of us can even speak another human language?

I suspect human beings think we are the best because we are human. If we were buffalo we might value all things buffalo more.

Why do we need to label everything? Best. First. Smartest. Richest. Poorest. Words ending in "st" seemed to require some kind of judgement call, but each call is so limited, so inconclusive. It's like saying the sky is blue.

Pattern without end

Believing something is hopeless is a self fulfilling prophecy. Even if there is a cure, or answer, or better way, it would have a very difficult time getting through the wall of resistance a human being can build in his or her mind.

We are miraculous creatures, capable of things beyond imagination, but tied to the illusion by our attachment to ideas and things and misconceptions that are so deeply rooted few people ever question them.

Fear of losing these things limits us in so many ways.

With the best of intentions we are taught to protect ourselves, to put on armor and collect things to insulate us.  Our protection ends up being the tether that keeps us from believing we can soar - therefore we do not soar. Emptiness, infinity, eternity, are all denied by this belief. They become folklore and fairy tales and mythology instead of reality. Even when we desperately want to believe it is almost impossible.

Only by knowing that deep within us is the power to do whatever we need to do, can we begin to reach our potential. The truly important things cannot be bought, or owned, or captured any more than we can imprison light in our hands.

It seems to be our nature, instead of being creatures of light and power we become beasts of burden hauling around the problems of a world that will always disappoint us. I suppose because it is easier to stand safely in the dark rather than leap into the abyss trustingly.

Death, decay, fertilization, gestation, rebirth, a pattern older than time, tried and true. Physically, emotionally, spiritually, pattern without end.

The same pattern explained in a million different tongues and ways.

The Way

I can remember when I hated the past while it was still the present, but I didn't know what to do about it. No one can change the past. I can change the way I am now. I can change the way I view the past. I can learn from the past. But, I can't change it.

Seizing hold of the worst and clinging to it in desperation becomes a self fulfilling proposition. It is not a healthy way to live.

People can survive, even thrive, after terrible experiences. Holocaust survivors are a prime example of that. They look for and find something better. They find hope and work towards it.

There are as many ways to cope with awful things as there are people, but the ones that are the healthiest involve moving forward and letting the past go. It will never be erased, but it doesn't have to rule the present.

The way lies deep inside me and you and everyone else.

 

 

Drama and Passion

I often find the world is relentless when it comes to teaching lessons. Yet it is subtle. There is no black and white manual with instructions for happy, conscientious living.

Most things in this world are growing older with the idea that someday they will mature, and be even better. We think of wine and cheese being aged to perfection. Many of us like good antiques or classic cars. Gardens that are well developed and established appeal to us. There seems to be a gold standard for most things in life.

So . . . what about people? 

There is the superficial gold standard of young even features that is so popular with nearly everyone, but what about deeper, more lasting qualities?

I think human beings mature when they learn, and practice, the difference between drama and passion. Many people, mistaking one for the other, seem to create unending drama in their life. It does not serve any of us well.

Passion can be beautiful beyond imagining. It is a maturing of human beings that brings the soul's eye view into possibility. It exists. It's real.

Aging really isn't for sissies

The older I get the harder it is to take care of me.

No more leaping out of the shower and racing off to work or play.

Now there is extra tooth brushing in order to keep these choppers white and healthy. There is more time devoted to oils and lotions to keep my skin from drying up and blowing away.

It takes a lot longer to exercise when I have to divide it into morning and evening segments. And the exercise I do has to be done thoughtfully so that I get stronger and don't injure myself.

I crave foods I never used to think about and weight is a bigger problem than ever.

Simply maintaining me becomes a major part of every day and the results?

Well, let me just say it is better to look into my soul than my mirror.

I came to the garden alone

I woke up early and could not sleep so I walked in the park this morning. It was cold. I had to wear my stocking hat, coat, hood and gloves. Well, I often wear gloves, my hands are almost always cold, but it was frosty!

I wish I could say it was peaceful and in some ways it was, but even before seven there was traffic and garbage trucks and a small man walking a smaller dog whose way intersected mine.

I walked through the community garden. There, tucked in among the newly sprouting vegetables, was a small bower. Someone had wrapped grape leaves around the back which is why I decided to walk in and look closer. I was imagining last years grape leaves still clinging to a small mid western trellis. They were fake. I wondered why anyone would put fake grape leaves on a tiny retreat in the middle of a prairie vegetable patch? Then thoughts of the Eleusinian Mysteries came to mind and thoughts of fertility rites involving plowing a young king into the ground to insure that the crops thrived. My imagination went wild.

Then I wondered what other people thought and that digressed into thinking about thinking.

Prairie thoughts. Early morning musings. The meanderings of a fertile mind.

The Duck Whisperer

Yesterday, between my morning and evening walk I managed to go shopping for cards and a purse to match my new dress. That brought my total steps to 10, 060, and 4.7 miles according to my phone. I'm really pleased with that, but it isn't my norm by a long shot. Today I walked 8, 398 steps in 79 minutes. That is more normal for me.

But . . . there are fringe benefits. I'm learning more about the people who live around me.

Today I met a man whose house backs up to our compound. He was very friendly, but it was a sad story. His house is under siege. Our owners want to buy it and he's lived there for 25 years. He said he put a six pound catfish in our lake when it was first dug and that was years ago.

I've met a woman and dog who are afraid of the geese. I tried to put her mind at ease. If you leave them alone and don't corner them they are harmless and even if you do provoke them they can really only pinch bare skin. Geese have no teeth and they are much smaller than even most children.

Probably the most interesting man I've met is the Duck Whisperer. I've seen him putting food out in the dead of winter and most of the fowl who live here know that when he has a cup, he is bringing food to them. Yesterday I saw him trying to get an errant pair of mallards to follow him back to the lake, away from the street.

Tonight I saw two groups of ducklings without parents around them, which is unusual. Without guidance they are at risk of being eaten by the fish in the lake and dying from cold with no mother to share her wing span and body heat. I don't know what can be done about that, but maybe the Duck Whisperer does.

The rest of the residents here are only nodding acquaintances, in the truest sense. We nod as we pass each other! But, on the whole, I'd say this is becoming home, in every sense.

Poetry in motion

Goose stepping hunch back
Parson feathered green heron . . .
Grace sets you apart.

Just a walk

Walking is not only good exercise, it is good therapy. And . . . it is not something I take for granted.

I have settled into a routine where I try to walk twice a day for 35 to 40 minutes at a time. I do the time because some days I walk faster and others I walk much s l o w e r.

Routines help me in so many ways. On top of walking I make my bed, write my thots, spend some time learning Spanish, feed the birds and sweep the porch, draw something and read for thirty to forty minutes.

It gives a feeling of raison d'etre to my life.

Of course I do other things too, but they vary more by the week or month, or even season. I volunteer. I have a hobby. I take pictures. I do crosswords, play Upwords, and Words with Friends. People need to be busy, or at least I do.

But walking is probably the all around best thing I do for myself. It becomes a moving meditation. I try to memorize all the out of state license plates in the parking lot on some days. I count my blessings with a song I learned from a Chilean woman years ago on other days. I let my imagination run wild on others.

And all the while I am being good to my heart and kidneys and feet.