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I’ve Been Thinking…again

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I wrote my last post many months ago. I thought I was ready to write and share more of my stories. 

I was wrong. 

It didn’t take long before I knew I had much more work to do.

This time, I called in professional help. Our conversations eventually wound their way back to the summer my mom died. That long summer from nearly fifty years ago began to unfold before me. So many images pulled in so many emotions. My voice was hesitant at first but began to fall into the phrasing I’d used many times. This time, for the first time, I heard the details were being shared by my ten-year-old self. 

At that moment I realized I’d left her back there all those years ago. 

With this new awareness, I had a clear vision of my mom through the eyes of that confused and fear filled ten year old as well as the wide opened eyes of a loving adult.  

It was as if someone reached over my shoulder, snapping in that long lost puzzle piece. This  piece will be the strong foundation I need to keep growing, learning, and sharing. 

My long sought lesson to share today is never give up on yourself. Keep working and you’ll find your answers. 

I am…

B…simply being. 

Peace be with you. 

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I Am Back

“I believe that life is all about perception and timing. That good things come to those who act and that life’s about more than collecting a paycheck. I believe that the only person you’re destined to become is the one that you decide to be. That if you try hard enough you can convince yourself of anything. That having patience doesn’t make you a hero nor does it make you a doormat. I believe that not showing love proves you’re weak and belittling others doesn’t make you strong. That you are never as far away from people as the miles may suggest. That life’s too short to read awful books, listen to terrible music, or be around uninspiring people. I believe that where you start has little impact on where you finish. That sometimes the best thing you can do is walk away. That you can never be overdressed or overeducated. I believe that the cure for anything is salt water; sweat, tears, or the sea. That you should never let your memories be greater than your dreams. And that you should always choose adventure.” 

― Todd Smidt

I’ve been away from my desk for a long time. 

My last post was written just after I said good-by to my dog, Bud. It was the final heartbreak of a year filled with unexpected events and losses. I needed some open-ended time to refill my well. 

I am better. I am ready to write. 

I’ve talked about the book by Susan Hayward, The Guide for the Advanced Soul. I discovered she has a sequel to this book, Begin It Now, which was waiting for me when I returned from the coast. Even the title sent me a message. As I opened the book, this was what I read:

How much longer will you go on letting your energy sleep? How much longer are you going to stay oblivious of the immensity of yourself? Don’t lose time in conflict; lose no time in doubt–Time can never be recovered and if you miss an opportunity it may take many lives before another comes your way again.    Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh

God bless you. 

I am…

B…simply being. 

Peace be with you. 

 

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The 50’s Through the Eyes of Frank Miller

 

“One of the saddest lessons of history is this: If we’ve been bamboozled long enough, we tend to reject any evidence of the bamboozle. We’re no longer interested in finding out the truth. The bamboozle has captured us. It’s simply too painful to acknowledge, even to ourselves, that we’ve been taken. Once you give a charlatan power over you, you almost never get it back.” 

― Carl Sagan, The Demon-Haunted World: Science as a Candle in the Dark

When I saw the book below at an estate sale a few months ago, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Frank Miller was a household name in Iowa as I was growing up–and for good reasons.

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For those who don’t know, Frank Miller was a Pulitzer Prize winning “cartoonist” for The Des Moines Register for three decades. In 1983 The Register published a book presenting selected works from his years at the paper.

To introduce those who don’t know him and those of us who want to know more about him, let me share what James Flansburg said about him in the introduction:

“Frank Miller captured the essence of Iowa. He was a cartoonist and proud of it. But also from 1953 to 1983 his pen and brushes produced hundreds of sketches and paintings that caught the beauty of the state and the anomaly of man’s trying to harness nature…

…Frank Miller didn’t really draw for the readers of The Register and the 30 other papers in which he was syndicated. He drew for an audience of one: Frank Miller…He was one of those rare beings who got paid for doing what he otherwise who’d have been doing for nothing…

…In that sense–unassuming, but not humble, aware of his talent but not crowing about it, convinced of his rightness but recognizing other views–Frank Miller appears to be a study in huge indifference. He lost interest in a work the instant it was finished…

…people didn’t like the cartoons he liked and liked the ones he didn’t very much care for. My guess, for example, is that he didn’t much like his Pulitzer Prize winning cartoon.So the way a Frank Miller would handle that would be to say as little as possible. “I think I’ve drawn better cartoons,” he said…

…We sat side by side int The Register newsroom for a long while–he illustrated  my political column for many years–and I never knew he had an alcohol problem until the day he told me he’d be gone for a while because he was going to put himself into the hospital for the cure. (It was the beginning of what he regarded as his most important work in the last several years of his life, helping alcoholics try to repair their shattered lives). Nor did many people know about it when his right elbow gave out–cartoonists are subject to something like tennis elbow because of the fine detail work of drawing–and he started to teach himself to draw with his left hand…

…Miller’s first dealing with The Register demonstrated his qualities as an affable, rational person who knew how to play whatever cards fate dealt. After army service in World War II Europe and study at the University of Kansas and Kansas City Art Institute, Miller had followed his father as a staff artist at the Kansas City Star. IN November of 1951, Register editor Kenneth MacDonald wrote Miller to ask if Miller was interested in a Register job for which he’d been recommended by his old teacher Karl Mattern, the noted artist. “Last May I was called to active duty with he Army Reserves,” said Miler’s reply, “and as I write I am in San Francisco ready to ship to Korea.” On his letter was an ink sketch of a sergeant in full combat gear. “Damn. An I always did like Des Moines,” said the caption. Miller laughed at the situation that would have had almost anyone else raving…

…Eighteen months later Miller was on The Register payroll and on his way to becoming as important a figure in Iowa’s day-to-day life as The Register’s first front page cartoonist, Jay N. (Ding) Darling…

…Miller never sided with a political figure–issues yes–individuals no–and Miller was not particularly interested in knowing or even meeting the great and near-great…His letter file would have been a valuable find for an autograph hunter or maybe even a scholar. But Miller wasn’t interested. He threw them away after reading them…

…When I cleaned out his desk and boxed his belongings after his death, I found, among other things, two letters and one photograph…

…The photograph and one of the letters were from Gene McCarthy and were carefully preserved. The other letter was from President Lyndon Johnson and it was in relatively good condition except for the dozens of brown ring stains from the coffee cups that Miller had set on it over the years.

Some of the cartoons for the 1950’s:

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The more things change, the more they remain the same. ~Jean Baptiste Alphonse Karr

I am…

B…simply being. 

~Peace~

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Thinking about Memorial Day

Do you remember the paper mache’ poppies? You know the ones we used to see everywhere when we growing up. I was one of the kids passing them out at the local grocery store in exchange for whatever donation was given. I am sure I was not happy to spend my Saturday there!

I was young and really did not appreciate–if I even knew–what that poppy symbolized. Because my dad was a veteran of WWII, he was an active member of the local VFW. My mom, my sisters, and I were part of the American Legion. One of the things we did for Memorial Day was make sure everyone had a commemorative poppy.

Late Saturday, an older man came up to me and asked if I knew what the poppy represented. This type of interaction happened to me all the time. There could have been ten other kids standing around but I was the one who was asked the questions. I debated saying I did know, but thought he may quiz me about it. I was honest and said I really did not know the whole story.

He told me it was important to know and shared this with me:

First of all, he said, you are not wearing the poppy correctly. It is to be worn over your heart. As he looked me straight in the eyes, he stressed that I would understand why this was important after he finished his story.

My memory is not complete so I am borrowing from an American Legion post:

The red petals stand for the vast outpouring of blood; the yellow and black center, the mud and desolation of all battlefields.

The green of the stem is symbolic of the forests, meadows and fields where generations of Americans have perished to make this land free.

The stem represents the courage and determination of our fallen warriors.

The assembled product, a flower, is a symbol of resurrection, which is sure to follow.

His words were much more simple, filled with the type of emphasis that only comes from being there, really experiencing the battles of war personally. He watched my face as he spoke, pausing now and then to make sure I was getting his point. When his story was complete, he stepped back in silence and somber reflection. He leaned toward me, asking me if I thought I understood why it is important to wear that poppy correctly? Now I was able to honestly answer that question. Which I did, with a soft and respectful, yes.

That was decades ago–probably over fifty years have passed since that grocery store lesson. I can picture myself standing beside this little round man, dressed in his bib overhauls, giving me the gift of a very powerful lesson about the real cost of the freedom.

Oh the challenges our nation has faced since that long past day in May. One thing has not changed. As Memorial Day approaches, it is vitally important for us all to remember those who have fought to defend our freedoms and those who protect us today.

We are in such turmoil and unease. As I asked last night, I ask for your prayers, remembering our great country and for those who defend and protect us. God bless them, God bless us all, and please, God, bless America.

I am…

B…simply being…

Peace. I love you.

 

 

 

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A Time For Reflection

Mother’s Day.

A hard day for those of us who have lost our moms. It doesn’t matter how old we were when the loss happened–this is a life event we all carry with us from that day forward.

I send my love out to those of you who are facing your first “motherless” Mother’s Day. May your memories give you comfort. May you come to understand, as I have, that your mom will always be with you. Not just in the memories, but in little things you do, little things you say, little habits you may not have recognized until now. I was blessed with a mom who loved me. Unfortunately, my mom, my sisters, and I were not blessed with much time.

Time. It is such an illusive concept. We keep thinking we have more. Don’t be fooled. As we’ve all been told, life can change in just a matter of seconds. This Mother’s Day, put the electronics away. Open your mind and heart by spending some attentive quality time with your mom. As anyone who has lost their mom will tell you, we would give anything to spend one more day with them. We’d ask questions, really listen to what she told us, and share stories of our own. We would make sure she knew how important and special she was and is to us; how her life lessons are infused into our very being.

Use your time wisely, my dear friends, and cherish those you love. If your mom is here, please make sure she knows how important she is to you. Only you can do that.

Make your mom, and yourself, proud.

I am

B…simply being…

Peace and love to y’all.

 

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Another Trip to the Library

I have a great library. Now that I am retired, not only do I have more time to read but I can choose HOW I read. I can read a new book or I can re-read a book that has become a traveling companion. These select few are special and I feel as though they are “old friends.” Some have traveled with me for many years. Not only do they share their printed words, but they magically pull up memories of what was happening in my life the first time I read them. I can see where I was, who I was with, see my notes and highlighting, and physically feel what was going on in my world at the time. Oh the power of books! I am blessed to have some very big hitters.

Simple Abundance, by Sarah Breathnach, is one of my favorites. My first copy was a gift, making it very special. This book has been around for a long time, very popular in the early 90’s. It was one of the books read by a group of women I met with once a week for years. I’ll always remember the night one of the leaders of the group talked about the book, explaining what she liked about it and shared different readings with us. She had passed her copy around and we all wanted to know where we could find our own copy. She said she had a surprise for us–and handed out a copy for each of us.

The book is set up to read an entry a day. I’ll share the beginning of what Sarah wrote for January 5:

Many women today feel a sadness we cannot name. Though we accomplish much of what we set out to do, we sense that something is missing in outlives and–fruitlessly–search “out there” for answers. What’s often wrong is that we are disconnected from an authentic sense of self.   Emily Hancock

I think many of us are searching for our authentic selves. As I give my thanks for my blessings today, one of the things I am grateful for is being able to share my search with you.

God bless you with love and peace.

I am…

B…simply being…

 

 

 

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A Slow Day

Everybody needs a slow day–I took one today. I am learning to listen to my body and some days you just don’t push it.

In light of that I’m sharing simple things today.

First thing to share is that our friends brought home their new puppy today. She is adorable. I’ve attached a picture of her so you can fall in love with her, too. She is described as very affectionate and ALL puppy. Cannot wait to meet her and hold her squiggly little body and smell that puppy breath.

Secondly,  I’m sharing something I discovered about a month ago. I’ve wanted to go back to school but honestly, could not commit to the time. Not sure how I stumbled upon on-line courses called MOOCs. I had to Google the acronym to see what it was and found it stood for: Massive Open Online Course. The courses are offered through several different sources for pretty low prices or free. The source I am most pleased with at this time is Coursera–you can check them out at: Coursera.org. They offer a wide variety of courses for free or a fee if you want a certificate of completion.

Lastly, but most importantly, I am thankful my husband was home today to take care of me. Thanks, Mickey. Your attention alone made a world of difference. I had three other care givers–all three dogs were beside me while I rested. Of course, part of that fact is they are allowed on the bed during the day–that might have been a huge incentive. Regardless, it was a joyously lazy day.

I took advice from Anne Lamott today:

Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes…including you. 

I am rested, renewed, mostly recharged. I am…

B…simply being…

Peace and love to all.

 

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My Guidance

I was clearing some space on my desk when I saw my Guide for the Advanced Soul sitting beside my computer. I am always curious about what that little book will tell me. This is the guidance the Universe sent my way:

The people we are in relationship with are always a mirror, reflecting our own beliefs, and simultaneously we are mirrors reflecting their beliefs. So relationship is one of the most powerful tools for growth…if we look honestly at our relationships we can see so much about how we have created them.    Shakti Gawain

I wish you all love and peace.

I am

B…simply being…

 

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Musings

I’ve had some extra time this week to think about things. What that usually means is I take long walks into my past. This week was no exception. There are some things back there that have always puzzled me. I found some unusual help this time though, from “The Royals.”

I have been running from myself for most of my life. When Prince Harry and his brother, Prince William, began talking about their mother, Diana, a switch turned on for me. I found, and continue to find, great comfort in their words when they talk about the struggles they have had in their lives after her death. Whenever Prince Harry speaks,  his words give me chills. It appears we had and have some of the same challenges. By speaking out he gave me a very valuable gift–he opened the door for me to speak of my own challenges. I am grateful for that.

I grew up in a little town in northeast Iowa. My family was not from there originally, a fact that I think was hard for my mom. Looking back on life’s events as an older adult gives me such a different perspective of things. My mom had been a single working woman, living at home with her parents, until she was 27 years old. She thought she was an old maid. She often told me how she met my dad at a dance. She said she knew when she met him he was special but did not think he was ever going to ask her to marry him. Looking back, that is the only story she ever shared with me about her days as a single woman. Of course, I was so young I would not have understood much more than that. She never had a chance to share more–she was dead by the time I was ten, my younger sister eight, and my youngest sister, six. That, my friends, is the tip of the iceberg.

I only have a kid’s memory of so many things. Our small community had its share of tragedies during this time. The most significant one I remember is that a classmate of mine’s mother died after being in a car accident. I think we were in second grade so we were probably seven years old. I had to be at school early that morning–I was in trouble for having a messy desk and was supposed to come in and clean it out. When I got to my room, my teacher was not there so I went looking for her. I found everyone in the room next door all standing in the front of the class room. They were talking softly about a car accident. One teacher said that the doctors did not think that my friend’s mom was hurt very badly. They were wrong, she said.  My classmates mom had died earlier that morning from a head injury that had not been detected. Lots more whispers.

I stood there thinking, how can that be? Moms don’t die.

In my mind, I see exactly where I was standing that day–how the soft morning sunlight came through the windows, illuminating the desktops, reflecting off chalk dust that was always flying through the air. The huddle of teachers remained close together in the front of the room. I remained invisible. Yes, they said, she had been hit from behind. You know, they said, it’s that bad spot out on the highway where so many other accidents had happened. Well, it’s been icy, they said, so she had a cement block in the back of her car for traction. When she was hit, they said, it flew and hit her head…

No one noticed as I turned and quietly walked out of the room. Oh, so many questions I carried out with me that day.

I wonder if my friend, my classmate from so many years ago, has any of the same questions I do? Does Prince Harry comfort her as he speaks of his demons? Do my other friends who also lost their moms when they were young feel the way I do–like you’ve always been a little lost? Always searching for something…

The month of May has always has been a time when I question so many things. I’ve sidestepped them for many, many years. Now it is time calm my demons by writing about them. If Prince Harry helped me, maybe I can help someone else?

This part of my life made me, me.

I am

B…simply being…

Wishing you all love and peace.

 

 

 

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Resources

I had forgotten how comforting it was to have a resource to turn to when I needed some type of encouragement. We all have to do our own soul-searching. What is good to know is we have other resources out there to help us along the way. Advisors we can keep close to us–just an arm’s length–like my little book, A Guide for the Advanced Soul.

I have several “advisors” sitting close by me. I’ll call them in for consultation often and share their words of wisdom. It’s all part of why I believe we are here–to help each other in our journey. Heaven knows, we need that type of help right now. We are all questioning so many basic things.

Venice Bloodworth was introduced to me by my husband, Michael. She was someone totally new to me until he shared her book. Now her book is another one in the front row of my go to authors/advisors whenever I need someone to make sense of things. Someone to renew my hope in–well–something.

Venice wrote her book, The Key to Yourself, in the 50’s. The copyright of the book we have on our shelf is 1952–a year before I was born. I’m not sure why I even noticed that but it made a really big impression on me. She wrote then what many of us read a few years ago thinking it was the first time someone had written it. Her wording is a little cumbersome today, but that makes it even more special to me. An example from a quote she credits to “Selected” which begins Chapter 3:

The Conscious Mind

If you think you are beaten, you are; If you think you dar not, you don’t; If you’d like to wind, but you think you can’t, It’s almost a cinch you won’t’ If you think you’ll lose, you’ve lost, For out in the world you’ll find success begins with a fellow’s will; It’s all in the state of the mind. 

Later in that chapter she says: It is strange that we so long failed to understand the wonderful power of thought, for it is taught by every religion and philosophy in the history of the world. Paul, when in captivity and chained to a Roman solder, gave to the world this message:

Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are  just, whatsoever things ar pure, whatsoever things are lovely, and of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.. 

I, like many, am troubled by what is unfolding around us. I am unsure what to do other than try to find a way to help each other through it all until we can figure out what to do next. Our minds are powerful. As Venice says, if we think we’ll lose, we have lost. We–all of us–have to rediscover our own power. Look for our advisors–whether it is by talking with each other or rediscovering words like these shared by those who have passed this way before us.

I am.

B…simply being…

God bless you all with love and peace.

 

 

 

 

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Insight

Years ago a friend of mine showed me a book she said she consulted daily. The name of the book was, A guide for the Advanced Soul, by Susan Hayward. She handed it to me and told me to open it to any page. What was written on that page, she said, was  my guidance for the day.

The book impressed me so much I bought it the next day.  I have not found the words I remember reading that night so long ago. The feeling I had while reading them has never left me. I knew that night, down to my very soul, that my life was about to change in a very big way.

What happened, you ask, that made me think something was happening in my life? Something very simple–I went out for lunch–a lunch that had been in the works for months. I finally met that friend of a friend–yes–a blind date. Love at first sight, you say? I have to say, yes. There really is a thing! I was the biggest skeptic in the world until that day. In less than an hour I had become a believer. Twenty five years later, I still believe.

Sometimes we get so caught up in the “stuff” that bombards us all day long we forget to look for the magic. You know, all those unexpected blessing that simply shower down on us at times when we least expect them and often when we need them the most. It’s some powerful stuff, love. Remember that. Do not take it for granted.

Tonight, I have consulted my guide for the advanced soul. Let me share the wisdom found:

Every moment of your life is infinitely creative and universe is endlessly bountiful. Just put forth a clear enough request, and everything your heart desires must come to you. 

                                                                                         Shakti Gawain

I wish you all peace, love, and a restful night.

I am.

B…simply being…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Being Human

Taking a step away from my own story tonight and sharing my thoughts about something that has been in the news for the last 24 hours or so.

The talk today revolved around Jimmy Kimmel’s son, Billy. For those who may not know, he was born with a congenital heart defect, resulting in a successful open heart surgery when he was only a few days of age.  He did well with this surgery but will have more in his future.

I can hear the first comments out of many people’s mouths today, “Well, didn’t they have an ultrasound? How could they have missed a hole in the heart?” The blaming begins…

I am a retired pediatric echocardiographer. Translated, that means I performed  ultrasound on baby’s hearts. My patient population ranged from the fetus to the adult with congenital heart disease.  I was very fortunate. Before I retired I was able to do fetal echoes on women I imaged when they were neonates. What a joy that was for me. Heavens–I miss my patients and their families.

One of the things I wished my patients understood, and I feel most sonographers would agree, is the fact that we carry their stories and images home with us every single day. As a sonographer, we sit right next to our patients–definitely in their personal spaces–often putting all our body weight into their bodies in an attempt to confine that fetus. We are  not there to get “pretty pictures.” We are there to get diagnostic ones. We are accessing that little fetus to make sure all parts are normal in position, size, shape and function. All of this goes on while we hear all about your life–people who are nervous share a lot of personal information. As we work and listen, we attempt to keep our body language normal, our faces neutral, often fighting back tears. We understand just how drastic this woman and her family’s lives are going to change in just a matter of moments.

There is an obstitrician along with his/her ultrasound staff in the LA area who are very unhappy with the results of their studies done for Jimmy’s wife and unborn son. Unfortunately, ultrasound is not an exact science. Many things contribute to a successful diagnostic study: the age of the fetus, how cooperative that little person is at the time of the study, the experience of the sonographer, the experience of the physician reading that study, the level of suspicion regarding possible defects, and the amount of time that practice allows for each exam. If it is a first pregnancy, a young mom, no family history, all other images and prenatal studies normal with an active fetus, imaging compromises may be accepted. Factor into that entire equation the fact that this was a study done on a celebrity’s wife–sigh…

We are all only human–but that is not comforting to those involved with this case. Not for any of us.

My prayers go out for Billy’s continued successful recovery along with prayers for those professionals who are beating themselves up over missing this prenatal diagnosis. God bless you all.

Wishing you all a restful night filled with love and peace.

I am

B…simply being…

 

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Remember

“You can have flaws, be anxious and even be angry, but do not forget that your life is the greatest enterprise in the world. Only you can stop it from failing. You are appreciated, admired and loved by so many. Remember that being happy is not having a sky without storm, a road without accidents, a job without effort, a relationship without disappointments.

“To be happy is to stop feeling like a victim and become the author of your own fate.” It’s walking through deserts, but being able to find an oasis deep in the soul. Is thanking God every morning for the miracle of life. It’s kissing your children, cuddling your parents, having poetic moments with your friends, even when they hurt us.

“Being happy is letting the creature that lives in each of us live, free, joyful and simple. You have the maturity to be able to say: “I’ve made mistakes”. It’s having the courage to say I’m sorry. It’s having the sense to say “I need you”. Is having the ability to say “I love you”. May your life become a garden of opportunities for happiness… that in spring he may be a lover of joy and in winter a lover of wisdom.

“And when you make a mistake, start over. Because only then will you be in love with life. You’ll discover that being happy isn’t having a perfect life. But use tears to irrigate tolerance. Use your defeats to train your patience.

“Use your mistakes with the serenity of the sculptor. Use pain to tune into pleasure. Use obstacles to open the windows of intelligence. Never give up … Above all never give up on the people that love you. Never give up on being happy, because life is an incredible spectacle. “.

Pope Francis

Peace be with you, my friends. 

 

 

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Living Proof

I wondered who I really was, beyond all that I’d been told. Maybe that’s the point of this journey, to wonder, to investigate. To piece by piece uncover the things that make me, me. To know I don’t need to prove any of the things I’ve figured out abouty myself, to anyone. But just be the living proof.   ~Stacey Martin

I have been given the gift of time to slowly uncover the pieces of my life.  

There are so many lessons to re-take now that I am no longer afraid. 

My teachers are lining up and they are smiling.

As am I.

Peace.

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Ho’oponopono

A few months ago someone shared with me the ancient Hawaiian prayer of forgiveness and healing called, Ho’oponopono.

It is a chant or a mantra that consists of these four lines:

  • I am sorry,
  • Please forgive me,
  • I thank you,
  • I love you.

The suggestion sat in the back of my mind for months. It’s been my experience, lessons wait until we are ready to “come to class.”

I use this chant as throughout the day when I feel challenged by something or triggered. What I have discovered is it gives me pause and when I concentrate on the words I am saying, it is the closest I’ve come to meditating. 

I am going to attach a YouTube video which explains this prayer.

 

Peace.

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A Texas Legend

The Legend of the Bluebonnet

The Texas fields are covered
With a blanket of deep blue.
But for a little Indian girl,
This would not be true.

Texas land was buried and dry.
Rains just would not come.
Indians danced and prayed for rain,
And beat upon their drums.

The Chief made a proclamation.
He appealed to one and all.
A prized possession must be sacrificed
Before the rains would fall.

The Indian camp was silent,
While each person searched his heart.
But when it came to sacrifice,
With possessions they would not part.

Suddenly a little girl stepped forth,
Holding her blue-clad doll.
She placed it in the roaring fire
and raindrops began to fall.

The rain brought forth the grass,
Among its blades, flowers of blue.
To be a sign for all the time
Of a love so pure and true.

   ~Author Unknown

Peace.

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An Unmarked Highway

“Two roads diverged in a wood and I–I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the diffence.” ~Robert Frost

I have not posted in a very long time. The little voice in my head kept telling me I needed to do some work before I wrote into the next chapter of my life.. 

I’ve been on a long journey searching for myself. 

I have discovered many things. Some have taken some time to process. Some are waiting patiently for me to share.  

My path has not been smooth or even clearly marked in places. It appears I am not only directionally challenged when driving my car. 

A few things I know for sure:

  • It is up to me to show and do the work. No one can do that for me.
  • I have been given so many teachers who have guided and encouraged me.
  • Not all teachers are human.
  • It is up to me to teach others.

And so it will be.   

Peace.  

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Good Friday Thoughts

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I stopped swimming a few months ago. I was exhausted. 

It took a long time to pull myself away from the stuff I’d been skillfully avoiding most of my life.  

As Easter and Passover approach, many of us will be gathering with family and friends. Some of us, for the first or the fiftieth time, will experience silent phones and empty chairs. 

A few months ago, I realized no one ever talked about my mom after she died. No one spoke her name–ever. At the time I don’t think my young friends knew what to say and the adults around us didn’t want to make us sad. 

That way of handling loss and grief became the model of how I dealt with loss the rest of my life–get over it–move on. 

It wasn’t until Thanksgiving a couple of years ago I realized lighting a votive candle for those who were not with us made me feel as though they were there. After thinking about that practice, I began to understand those I’d lost over the years really were near. Their energy–their spirit–had always been with me. 

My take away lesson from my thoughts today is this: talk about those who have passed on. It is healing to hear people mention your loved ones–it helps everyone realize they are not forgotten as well as open an avenue for sharing stories and memories.

A small little thing happened this week as Michael and I were in the garage. There’s been a moving box sitting against the wall since we moved in six years ago. This box is labeled “Viv’s bowl.” Vivian was my mom. I’m not sure what’s in that box but I am sure it will be in that corner for as long as we live here.

Get creative and find ways to commemorate your loved ones and share your stories this holiday weekend.

I am…

B…simply being. 

Peace be with you, my friends. 

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Treasures

God doesn’t give you the people you want, he gives you the people you need. To help you, to hurt you, to leave you, to love you, and to make you the person you are meant to be. Author Unknown

I’ve learned over the years life events cycle–ready or not.

There are the happy times, joyful times, hard times, and devastating times. Just when I start celebrating my blessings, things make an abrupt change.

It’s funny–not ha-ha funny–how I’m still taken off-guard. It reminds me of all those Survivor episodes I’ve watched where people are sitting around tribal council telling Jeff Probst they are sure they will not be the one voted off.

That’s become a pretty big indicator they will be the one going to that season’s form of Exile Island.

I’m adding my voice to those telling us to live each day to the fullest. With age it is clear change is one of the few constants. Those every day eyeopening discoveries we had in our youth are now replaced by daily shocking reminders of our mortality.

Nothing is promised. Treasure those who are near and dear and hold on tight.

Baxter Black tells us this about friends:

Friend is a word that I don’t throw around

Though it is used and abused. I still like the sound.

I save it for people I can count on if ever need be.

Some of my friends drive big limousines

Own ranches and banks and visit with queens.

And some of my friends are up to their neck

In overdue notes and can’t write a check.

They’re singers or ropers or writers of prose

And others. God bless ’em, can’t blow their own nose!

I guess bein’ friends don’t have nothin’ to do

With talent or money or known’ who’s who.

It’s a comf’terbul feelin’ when you don’t have a care

‘Bout choosin’ your words or bein’ quite fair

‘Cause friends’ll just listen and let go on by

Those words you don’t mean and not bat an eye.

It makes a friend happy to see your success.

They’re proud of yer good side and forgive all the rest

And that ain’t so easy, all of the time,

Sometimes I get crazy and seem to go blind!

Yer friend just might have to take you on home

Or remind you sometime that you’re not alone.

Or ever so gently pull you back to the ground

When you think you can fly with no one around.

A hug or a shake, whichever seems right

Is the high point of given’, I’ll tellya tonight.

All worldly riches and tributes of men

Can’t hold a candle to the worth of friend.

 I am…

B…simply being. 

Peace be with you, my friends.

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Mr. Bud

“All his life he tried to be a good person. Many times, however, he failed. For after all, he was only human. He wasn’t a dog.” – Charles M Schulz (cartoonist, “Peanuts”)

For nearly 15 years Bud’s been beside me.

Actually, he was the ultimate diplomate. He shared his time between both Michael and me.

You never had to look far because he was beside one of us–always.

Until today.

I pretty much hate today.

Even though I know it was time to say good bye, I was grabbing at excuses.

Ask anyone, I am very very bad at good-byes.

I’d specifically asked Bud to give me a sign when he was ready. I knew he’d hang with us as long as we needed him to be here. I was holding on with all of my might, pulling out anything I could to extend his stay. Looking back, I think he’d been giving me subtle messages for some time. I had been very successful at finding a way to excuse each one.

Last night he declared himself LOUD and CLEAR. As I was getting his dinner ready he began to show signs of having a stroke.

Yup. I finally hear you, Mr. Bud.

Some important information to share with all my other dog guardians out there–if you think your dog is having some type of a vascular event, give them a baby aspirin. Maybe because I gave it to him on an empty stomach, he reacted very positively within a few minutes.

Ah–my unconvinced mind said–is this the fix? Can I hold on to him a little longer?

His eyes said very simply, no.

So…the puppy who raced around so fast in the house the only way for him to stop was to ram into the couch was telling me it was time. The puppy who could chew up dozens of pine cones and several remote controls was telling me it was time. The puppy who did not have time to take the stairs any other way but to jump from the highest point was telling me to listen. The dog who had been beside me since 2006 was ready.

He’d been tolerant of Pearl and her elderly synchronicities, befriended Gracie, trained Duffy, controlled Ruby, house trained both Abby and Eli was telling me his job was complete.

I was fortunate to be with him. Both my vet and his staff are so empathetic. I was looking into his eyes as he left this world heading up to play ball with all his friends in heaven. You all better be ready because the champion ball player has arrived.

As I sat in my car getting myself together for the drive home, the sun broke through the clouds and a strong beam of light came across my face for just a few seconds. It warmed my soul.

As always, The Bud was taking care of me and letting me know he had arrived.

I figured my sister, Beth, was there waiting for him because she had sent a sign as well when she got to heaven by way of a wonderful rainbow. Yes, Bethie told him that would definitely get my attention because she knew I was a little slow on the uptake sometimes.

Abby and Eli are very quiet. I showed them his collar and they smelled it and started looking everywhere for him. I think they now know he’s moved on but will be monitoring their fights just like always.

I am heartbroken but so thankful he is no longer suffering.

I love you and will miss you every single day.

I am…

B…simply being.

~Peace~

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