Monday, February 28, 2011

Favorite words from an Author

We all have words written by someone that have moved us or inspired us in some way. I have so many, but one of my favorite's is by Rainer Marie Rilke - 1903.  This is a portion of one of his letters [number 4] to a young poet). You'll find it under the photo. Won't you share some words that have moved you?

by Rainer Marie Rilke - 1903   

  . . . . . . If you trust in Nature, in what is simple in Nature, in the small Things that hardly anyone sees and that can so suddenly become huge, immeasurable; if you have this love for what is humble and try very simply, as someone who serves, to win the confidence of what seems poor: then everything will become easier for you, more coherent and somehow more reconciling, not in your conscious mind perhaps, which stays behind, astonished, but in your innermost awareness, awakeness, and knowledge. You are so young, so much before all beginning, and I would like to beg you, dear Sir, as well as I can, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer. . . . .

Friday, February 25, 2011

How to keep our most precious things

When we have something precious in our lives we tend to want to keep it.
We look for a special or pretty container to keep it in.
The truth is though, that the most precious of things cannot be kept or contained.
They must be shared.
 Love.  Faith.  Charity. 
Three of the most precious of life's offerings that when kept locked up will wither and die.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Sunday, February 20, 2011

What is home?

What is home to you?
      I lived in Florida for a few months last winter. There was a woman I would see every day. This was her home.
      It was in a small sheltered area behind a restaurant, small stores and rental complex off a parking lot.
     At first I thought it was a place for trash and overflow of things that might be in a garage or carport.  The area is strict with keeping the homeless away from local residents, the working public and tourists. I would watch them, mostly they were polite and kind and asked them to move on. Private property rules and laws they said. But twice I saw someone being rude with that sense of privleged arrogance that went with it.
     She kept her clothes in one of the big green trash containers in plastic bags. Her food 'pantry' was the smaller of the green containers. She said she could seal it tightly to keep the animals from stealing her food. She got up early, washed up from an old large water bottle that she had filled up the night before from a public restroom. Her head was usually wrapped up in a colorful scarf. Her shoes though, were worn and dusty.  She arranged all her belongings neatly and either walked or rode the bicyle. This was how it looked all day. Late at night, after dark, she spread it around using card board sheets as her mattress. An old blanket from the green container. Quiet as a church mouse. She was clean, friendly. Always had a smile for me. Beautiful even with a few missing teeth. I thought she had an occassional odd job around town, but I wasn't sure.
       When the weather was rainy or unseasonably cold she took shelter in a local homeless center for the night. I would see her around town and she would nod in acknowledge. She walked tall with confidence. Sometimes she had a plastic bag that was filled with bumpy looking things. I don't know what she had in there or what she did with it. She kept to herself. She was polite and soft spoken when talked to.
I would watch her often. She knew I watched her. I don't think she was concerned about me exposing her home to anyone that would make her leave. I wanted to ask her questions, to offer her something. How did she come to this and what did she need or want. I was intrigued by her, by the life she lead and by her demeanor.
     I decided that I would offer her a meal or money to get something she needed. I didn't want to disrespect her by prying. And in the offering, we chatted. She had been living this way fro quite some time. There was no more information as to how it all came about.  I knew it was her private life to share if she wanted to. She told me she was going to see her daughter soon, in a few days. That she had been saving money for a plane ticket for quite some time and she was excited to go. But she also said that she also looked forward to coming back home again.
     That was when I understood that home really is where your heart and spirit are.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Write RIGHT Now

           That's right, write it NOW.
           In this month's Elle magazine, Joyce Carol Oates is interviewed in  part about her book  'A Widow's Story'. It'strue and based on her husband of over forty years getting  pneumonia, going to the hospital and in one week, getting an infection and dying.
       This experience is intensely violent to one's emotions and changes in life. It made me think of my own life and how your world can become completely overturned in a short time without notice.    
      Ms. Oates recalls  she had to write it as she was going through it.. To write and feel the words in the months of widowhood immediatley after his death.

     With happenings in my own life, I have often said, someday I will write about it.
     But in truth, the waiting can change the intensity and perspective of  feeling. Feelings might calm, understanding and acceptance might come, but too, anger or pain can also fester and grow.

     When we wait to tell a story, the story itself often changes.  Tell a story in a circle, whisper a few sentences in an ear and telling them to pass it on to the next person. By the time it comes back to you, part of the story is different by each teller and interpretation.  Our own personal stories change as we journey through the road of life.
     So write that story today, right now, when all the feelings are vivid and strong and want to be heard.. If it calls to you . . . write it again later on and see how the orchestra of life has given it a different rhythm.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

From . . . .

From the    UNFORGIVING  . . . .
I have learned the joy of  FORGIVENESS.

From the    HATEFUL . . . 
I have learned the depth of LOVE.

From the    IMPATIENT . . . 
I have learned the serenity of PATIENCE.

From the    CLOSE-MINDED . . .
I have learned the value of OPEN-MINDEDNESS.

From the    NON-BELIEVER  . . .  
I have learned the POWER of TRUTH.

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Repeat dreamer

     Some people say they don't dream. Ever. I find that heard to believe.
 Is it that they really don't dream, they don't remember their dreams, or they don't want to pay attention to the fact that they are dreaming?
     I dream all the time. Sometimes a lot of it is fantasy like, colorful and sureal. Beautiful and inspiring. Some of them aren't very good. I wake up crying and exhausted. And sometimes I don't remember anything at all.
     But what about the dreams we have that we dream over and over again?  Dreams that when you wake up, don't make any sense, but surly there is a message there for us.
     We look our dreams up on the internet, in books and ask others about the subjects of our dreams and what they think. The information we get often doesn't really pertain to our specific dream, although it may speak to a part of our dream. Sometimes it is a long time between having the same dream. Sometimes I dream it almost every night. Sometimes the dream changes up a bit, it is never really exactly the same.
I have thought of daydreams and nightdreams and how they can be the same. But usually they are nothing the same, for me anyway.
     In my dreams I am often an observer. Even if I am in the dream, I have no part in how the script evolves. But I am in control of the dream because I am the one dreaming it right? I wonder what I will dream tonight.
      Are you a dreamer?  Tell me something of your dreams.

Sunday, February 13, 2011

Circle the DATE to Express your LOVE

In  honor of  ST. VALENTINE'S DAY,

 although January has already passed   . . .
you still have all these days this year to tell someone you love them.

 Don't waste them
January 2011 CalendarFebruary 2011 CalendarMarch 2011 Calendar
April 2011 CalendarMay 2011 CalendarJune 2011 Calendar
July 2011 CalendarAugust 2011 CalendarSeptember 2011 Calendar
October 2011 CalendarNovember 2011 CalendarDecember 2011 Calendar


Saturday, February 12, 2011

A time for . . .

In everyday life we often take the most beautiful people and things for granted.
 Every person is like a flower that has limited time to bloom and be beautiful.
 Enjoy their beauty and fragrance while they are still with you so when the blossom withers the memories of their essence will always remain with you.

Friday, February 11, 2011


Sometimes I lay awake at night thinking about things and words I'd like to say to someone.

 Then in the morning, I leave it alone.

Good things those long nights sometimes.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Celebrating the beauty of another day

Something about sunsets, water and nice weather . . .  this was just a lovely evening by the water near a Cleveland Ohio marina last year. There is beauty everywhere, just gotta be aware.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

An early winter view

My backyard earlier in the season.
I love the blue sky and beginnings of the snow. Remember the excitement of seeing the first snowflakes fall?

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Love the winter days when
the sun is so bright it reminds you
summer is coming.

Somedays I just want to keep my thoughts to myself.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Love is . . .

LOVE is . . . when being together feels like HOME.

Thursday, February 3, 2011

Paths and Choices

Sometimes we have to make changes in our travel plans through life.

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Simple LOVES

February is when we celebrate Valentine's Day.
There are many types of love.

 I thought I'd list a few of the simple things in life that I love.

I love . . .
the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the morning.
- the feel of my tongue gliding over my freshly brushed teeth.
hearing the words "I love you" whispered softly in my ear.
- seeing huge fluffy white snowflakes floating slowly and rythmically down to the ground.
the sunshine coming slowly through the clouds in a pale blue sky.
- having idle time to sit and read and paint.
sharing laughter with people I love.
-"giving it forward" to someone that doesn't even realize it yet.
sharing a hug that lingers.
-feeling hot water running over my arthritic hands.
being able to hear beautiful music.
-making someone laugh.
eating a piece of chocolate and letting it slowly melt in my mouth.
-holding a sleepy puppy in my arms.
remembering fun times shared of people that have now passed away.
-waking up and knowing that every morning gives me another opportunity to be happy.

perhaps I've made you think about a few simple things you love.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

All of Mother Nature's seasons

     As the winter storm approaches I am hoping to snap a few beautiful camera shots of the white and icy beauty.
     Looking out the window, I see a blur of fast moving white lines. Sometimes, we must be patient for winter tranquility. Mother Nature is covering us with her beautiful white blanket of snow. And tranquitity will come. But right now she is coming in along with Winter Wind Warrior. It appears that at this moment, I'll have to wait for the dancing and party to settle down.
     For now though, won't you come with me? I'd like to give your mind a warm and balmy journey. Envision this, then grab a tea and put up your feet, take a sip and close your eyes. All cozy and comfy? Then come with me now, inhale deeply let me lead you to some of that ME time that you so deserve  . . .
     Feel the warmth of the sun on your face, temperatures that warm you up even deep into the coldness of your bones. Smell the salty mist in the air. Embrace the soft whisper of a gentler wind on your skin. Seagulls in the distance, in harmony with the coming in and out of the tide. As you languishly stroll the beach, your feet digging into the soft tawny colored sand, with water splashing against your legs. Breathe in deeply, exhale it all nice and slowly. You feel your body relaxing, your mind clearing and feel one with the earth. Here is a tropical place where the sky is filled with golden memories of the day and the promise of another chance to appreciate all the seasons and people in our lives. I love to come here and please join me anytime.