One Happiness Scatters a Thousand Sorrows

In the words of Siddharthe Guatama, "Happiness comes when your work and words are of benefit to yourself and others."  This was an "aha" moment for  me.  That is why when I am doing something that I think no one is going to benefit from, or even appreciate for that matter, I find myself, well, feeling unhappy.

It makes me happy to when I think that someone benefits from something I have done or some words I have spoken on paper or in person.  It is that connection.  It is the feeling that I may have made a difference...even only a temporary one.  That is happiness.  Consider the words of the song by Donovan:

"Happiness runs in a circular motion,
Falters like a little boat upon the sea.
All our souls are deeper than you can see,
You can have everyting if you let yourself be.
Everybody is a part of anything, anyway,
You can have everyting if you let yourself be"

This must be one of the keys to happiness.  What goes round comes round.  Or, as that old Golden Rule says, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto to you."  This is, I would venture to say, is why words are indeed "things".  They have gravitas.  They have meaning.  When you share them, you are sharing yourself.  And when someone is the better for it and you feel like a better person.  And that, my friend, is the definition of happiness.

Falling Off a Bicycle (Just Like)

So there I was, pedalling along, minding my own business, doing my thing, keeping my commitment to...to...to whatever it was I was committed to, and then blammo!  Yes, BLAMMO!  Blammo smack dab into the ditch.  I drove that bicycle right into the ditch and then I just lay there...for four days!  Four long days in the ditch.  Then finally I realized no one was coming to pull me out of the ditch and so, here I am, climbing out of the ditch, and, believe it or not, getting back on the bicycle because, as they always say, the best thing to do when you fall off your bicycle is, of course, to get up and get right back on and begin pedalling pedalling pedalling.

Okay, I confess. I didn't really fall off a real bicycle.  The bicycle here is my commitment to writing writing writing.  Its a metaphor for goodness sake.  And forgive me if I am a little testy.  When one falls off the "bicycle" as it were, it is an onerous task to get riding again.   But it can be done.  It can.

They say once you learn to ride a bike you never forget.  It is all about balance and once to find that balance and lean into the forward momentum and pedal away, you find yourself on the move toward your goal.  And it doesn't matter if you goal is a ride to the park or up a mountain or in a race.  The point is the ride and keeping the forward motion going and, forgive me for being cliche, but, it really is all about just doing it.

So the journey is jump-started again.  I have my bicycle shorts on and my helmet on my head.  It may just be my laptop and creativity, but it works.  The road ahead stretches out to be explored.  Come on with me!  Let's see where all this takes us.  Thoughts and musings come from paying attention to the sights, sounds and things you encounter along the way.  Oh, ya, I did check the brakes and they work, but they should only be applied to avoid an accident or to take a break to recreate.

And away we go....

That Guy Who Died So Suddenly

I was looking through some pictures on Facebook and came across of picture of someone who died without warning this past year.  "Oh, there's that guy who died so suddenly," I thought.  I did not know him, but knew of him and knew he was well loved and live life to the fullest.  Yet at only 49, it was much to soon, to soon indeed.

And of course that caused me to think about my own mortality.  I hate when that happens, but, as they say, death is a part of life.  And I thought to myself, what if I were to die "suddenly"?  What would happen?  For me, the world would of course cease to exist.  All of my dear friends and relatives, pets and memories for me would vanish....or would they?   In any case, I would not be among you and I certainly will have used up my chances.

And there you have it.  Every day offers another chance, a new opportunity to live as you have always wanted to live, to do things as you have always wanted to do them.  And now it occurs to me we always do that even though we don't think we are at the time.  We make those choices that lead us to where we are at the precise moment when we become that guy who died so suddenly or otherwise.

So I guess I need to take old Ann Landers' advice she offered so very long ago to readers who never seemed willing to face reality.  She would say, "Wake up and smell the coffee".   I say the strength and flavoring of your coffee is up to you.

Summer Serenade

"A bird does not sing because it has an answer. It sings because it has a song."    ~ Chinese Proverb

Spring has danced away.  Summer has sauntered in with a heated passion of a new love.  The year peaks with the solstice revery of a long and languid day.  My bones are warmed and my brow slightly fevered as the season of long, lazy, hazy days begins.

Summer is not a season to be taken lightly.  It like the bird who sings its song without regard to rhyme or reason, summer makes the heart rise up in a yearning melody of longing for a lost love.  

It is summer. It shall last like the bird's song forever in our memories as long as we make memories worth lasting.

******

William Shakespeare - Sonnet #18

Shall I compare thee to a Summer's day?

Thou art more lovely and more temperate:

Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,

And Summer's lease hath all too short a date:

Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

And oft' is his gold complexion dimm'd;

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance or nature's changing course untrimm'd:

But thy eternal Summer shall not fade

Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;

Nor shall Death brag thou wanderest in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou growest:

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

Happy Summer!

Tomorrow is the Busiest Day of the Week

There is a Spanish proverb that says tomorrow in the busiest day of the week.  "Mañana, Mañana, Mañana is soon enough for me" goes the lyrics to a golden oldie I remember from back in the day.  I'm thinking both the proverb and the song lyrics are reminding folks that because it is so easy to put off until tomorrow, etc., tomorrow is soon filled with the woulda, coulda, shoulda's of today. 

So what's to be made of this?  I just don't know for sure.  Yes, my list is long of things I should be working on.  But there are days, (too many I am afraid), when I just DON'T FEEL LIKE IT!  There, I've said it.  Sometimes I just don't feel like doing the laundry or pulling the weeds or getting up and going or lying down and waiting.  There are times when, like on a Monday in particular, the list of "to-do's" seems so daunting that the only thing you can do is succumb to the "overwhelms" and relax until the feeling passes!  Nothing else can be done.  If you force yourself, you might strain something, like a kidney or a brainwave.

So there you have it.  Tomorrow is always gonna be the busiest day of the week.  Especially if you have perfected the fine art of procrastination.  And whose to say that's wrong?  A lot of the time, what seemed so important today, so urgently needing attention, has, as if by magic, resolved itself by the next day!  Ultimately, when you think about it, it is a wonder that anything ever gets done sometimes, especially when you put it off until tomorrow, because, you know, even though Scarlett O'Hara declared that tomorrow is another day, really, truly, tomorrow never comes....

Date Night

Someone posted a note on Facebook that tonight is date night.  Friday night is, i suppose, a good night for a date.  I have some friends, a couple, who almost every Friday night go to their favorite Mexican restaurant.  They have been doing this for so long that the restaurant has their favorite table reserved, they know them by name and their favorite waitress can anticipate what they will order.  Standing date, this is their time together to process the week and catch up.

I have single friends who cannot stand to be home.  They go out to the local "clubs" and meet up with other singles with the hope that there will be a fresh face in the crowd, you know, the one that will rock their world...or at least make their world a little less lonesome...or even take them from the world on singleness to coupledom in one fell swoop.

Sometimes on Friday night it is time to go to the latest release on the cineplex. Of course a single runs the risk of running into the couples on dates and being reminded that they are, again, alone on a Friday night.  Not so bad really.  It just sometimes causes one to think twice about going out and ending up staying home.  Home is not so bad.

Home is where the heart is.  If you are lucky, you have a dog or two and maybe a cat or two and tweety birds and the like.  Your dogs give you that unconditional love you long for especially if you feed them their favorite dry kibble mixed with some canned dog food in that special way you give it to them every night all mixed up and on the floor near the door to the porch.  You know, the way you do every night and every morning, day in, day out, week in, week out.  It is a comfortable routine.

And your cats, God bless 'em, bring you presents like dead little birds and rats that were unlucky enough to venture into your yard.  They are so proud and you praise the enthusiastically as you use the dustpan to scoop up the sad little corpses all the while wondering if you should bury them and thinking about the little lives cut short.  Ultimately you wrap them up and put them in the brown can for pick up.

So that is date night.  It is sometimes just nice to sit quietly and think.  At the twilight you may realize there are worse fates than being home without a special someone.  You could be with a special someone who is not really that special and who you really would rather not be with.  It is a warm late spring evening and you go out on your porch to just reflect and then a bird begins to screech on the next street or the that idiot on the next block revs his engine as he often does loudly and longly.  Another neighbor's little girl decides it is fun to scream and scream and scream again for no obvious reason other than it annoys the heck out her brother and, incidently, everyone else with in earshot.

Its at times like these when on a Friday night, when you are thinking about not having a date that little things may irritate you more and you know that you are getting, as they say, older.  So you remind yourself not to be a cranky old fart and relax.  It will all pass.  And strangely enough, it does.  The sun dips below the horizon, the sky all pink and blue fades to darkness and night creeps in like a blanket to bring you calm.  

It is date night and you find that maybe you are with the best date you could ever have had.  After all, even though your fantasies were inspired by Lady and the Tramp, not all fantasies are meant to come true.

This Morning Walk Thing

Since retiring from the county I have established at least one good habit.  Well, at least my little doggies think so.  Every morning after we have had some breakfast and coffee (for me, the kids don't care for coffee) the three of us set out for our morning constitutional.  

I have a leash that attaches to a toggle that hooks onto each of their collars.  It is one of the better inventions for people who have more than one dog.  I used to have a three-dog toggle, but not sure what happened to that, so until I find it, I can only have two dogs.  (Thank goodness).

Anyway, we don't always get out the door at the same time every day.  No use getting into a rut or fixed routine.  Tater and Ching Ching need to remain flexible and they do.  Of course they wait patiently but expectantly as I do whatever it is that delays me getting on with it.  They are quite good that way.  But when I finally pick up the leash....zoom!

So every morning is a slightly different experience from the days before.  Like this morning, we started to turn right onto to Elizabeth at the end of my street.  Ching would have of that.  His mind was set on turning left and heading over to the Plaza.  Not sure why he likes to go that way, but I usually cave in.

This morning we encountered a freight train approaching the Riverside Ave crossing.  We stopped, thinking we would have the usual long wait, but this train was going very fast and was pulling only a few cars behind the locomotive, a rare sight indeed.  We were back underway lickety split.

Next we encountered the same broken sprinkler by Marie Callendar's that has been spewing water for three days now.  I know they know about it because someone placed an orange cone by the source of the leak.  We of course had to check it out and taste the water.  And the little patch of grass between the sidewalk and the street is one of Ching's favorite places to take care of business.  Yes, I always have my plastic bag ready.  I take it off the morning paper.  At least it makes the bag serve a useful purpose everyday.

We continued on this morning to the corner of Riverside and Merrill where as we were waiting for the signal to change, I woman came rushing up to tell us, "There is a big white pitbull running loose down there.  I thought you might like to know."  Of course I did want to know.  We changed course and where down Merrill rather than to the Riverside Avenue entrance to the Plaza.  A different prospective never hurts.

We got to the south end of the plaza and I decided we needed to sit on our bench by El Torito and the fountain.  We hadn't done this in a while.  The dogs relax and I think deep thoughts, play with my cell phone and go "into the zone". We only there a few minutes when, you guessed it, the big white dog showed up.  He was HUGE!  The security guard was in hot pursuit.  I tightened my grip on the leash and Tater bristled, but did not bark.  Fortunately, the guard caught the dog and led him away after shooting me a re-assuring look.  

Crisis averted, we got up and went on home.  

Some times on these walks we encounter homeless folks, friendly and unfriendly people walking their friendly and unfriendly dogs, workers going to work who sometimes have time to make a fuss over the kids.  There is one woman who averts her eyes and crosses the street so as not to encounter the dogs (or maybe me?).  During the school year there is always lots of traffic near Pachappa Elementary.  It is remarkable that every single kid is accompanied by a parent these days.  Probably because of the busy streets, but also I am afraid because there are so many crazies out there.  The world has changed so much since I was walking to school...alone...and meandering along the way.

So this morning walk is something we all look forward to every day.  Even though we go basically the same way each day, for the dogs it is great fun.  They just love to GO!  And it is good for me too I know.  It wakes us up and starts our day just right.  This morning walk thing and sometimes this evening walk thing, is just about as good as life gets.  

"Yep, dad, this walking business just makes us so happy!"

Feeling Moonful

Feeling Moonful

"The full moon appears very bright in part because the spherical glass beads in the moondust reflect much of the sun's light back toward the sun (and the Earth)." 

-- from the site "From the site Is the Moon Full?"

Wistful longing for that something more that satisfies the soul wafts in and through those who observe the moon's journey across the sky.  The silence is deafening.  The heart is still.  Anticipation subsides as dreams begin to rise up and dance in the mind's eye.  

Feeling moonfull is the poet's lament of not being able to put this feeling into words.  It is that feeling that transcends the mundane to inspire a night of revery in imagination.  Feeling moonfull is that deep sense that one can never stop time, but can only remember what may have been forgotten or forget what yet might be.  It is becoming aware of the depth of your soul that goes deeper than the night sky beyond the moon, beyond the stars.

The moon keeps her secrets and the secrets of all who commune with her on a night like this. The sky's intention is clear, the breeze is gently insistent and the slight and the voice of the great white spirit speaks to the heart. 

Nothing Set In Concrete

"JD DIFFENBAUGH

CONTRACTOR

1959"

On my morning walk with the dogs, I walked through the construction zone where the city is installing an railroad underpass for Magnolia Avenue.  I do this two or three times a week now.  It is coming along to be sure and will be a boon to the locals, providing a means to avoid the frequent passing trains that often stop in the crossing and block traffic causing jams and jellies galore.  Now I love both jams and jellies, but not in my traffic.  So when the day comes that traffic flows like honey and the memories of long waits at the tracks are toast, I will, along with all of Magnolia Center where I live, be glad.

But that is not what stopped me in my tracks this morning.  I have been in my house in this area for over 28 years.  I have seen many changes.  It seems nothing is permanent.  Why just this morning at the end of Merrill Avenue, which runs on the backside of the Riverside Plaza, they were ripping out the landscaping along the B of A parking lot section.  The backhoe was digging up and scooping the four foot bushes and spreads of ivy into a waiting dump truck. I have to admit I was disturbed.  This is progress I guess and, I told myself, that sacrifice will lead to something better as they prepare to re-do that section of Merrill into what?  I don't know.  But again, that is not what stopped me in my tracks.

I was walking along when I looked down and saw the imprint pictured here in the concrete sidewalk along Magnolia.  The name Diffenbaugh proudly inscribed and the date 1959.  It made me wonder about how it must have been along Magnolia 52 years ago when this sidewalk was laid.  The businesses were fairly new.  There was a Stater's on the corner of Elizabeth and Magnolia.  Brewster's along with other little stores and businesses lined the streets.  Now those buildings are all second-hand stores and antique shoppes.  Donut City may have been there back when too, I am not sure.

According to their website, "J.D. Diffenbaugh, Inc. has been a construction industry leader in southern California for nearly six decades."  I have to wonder if there is anyone there who remembers the sidewalk project along Magnolia.  Whoever they were, they were proud enough to stamp their name in the cement for all eternity...well eternity until now.  I imagine that sidewalk will soon be replaced as progress marches on.  The sad thing is it will probably be replaced without the same pride of craftsmanship that still existed in 1959  and then be jackhammered to replace a faulty water main in a few months and replaced with badly installed black asphalt.  Seems to be the norm these days.

I am getting old I fear.  Never thought I would be so like my parents and grandparents, longing for the old days.  What gives me pause is that these are the old days for the young of today.  Will they look back with nostalgia at everything being built today?  I have to wonder.  I have to sigh.  I have to move on.  That is progress so they say.  So as I have some toast with jam or honey this morning, I have come to realize the price is high, and cost is so much dearer; but life goes on and nothing, not even when set in concrete, lasts forever.

Diffenbaugh Professional Constructors

"In a thread that runs through all of its activities, Diffenbaugh is committed to “Building Excellence” in providing the highest quality and value to each of its clients as it expands into new markets."

A Little Dose'll Do You: Castoria Memories

Now this is a strange little trip down memory lane.  I was with a dear friend yesterday and we got to talking about different things and for some reason Castoria came up.  I think we might have said something about the bad taste of some medicines our parents used to give us as children.  Castoria came to my mind because for me, I really liked the taste.  In fact, there were times (this is MANY years ago mind you) that I would sneek a spoonful on the sly.  Now there is a bizarre addictiction for you.

My mother and my grandmother both paid close attention to my brother and my, well, bodily functions.  I guess way back then, if you were sluggish or cranky, it was automatically assumed you were, well, you know, constipated.  Sigh.  We seldom were.  I think behind this was a psychological ploy my mom and grandma were using to get us to "get over it".  Back then, you just didn't go with your feelings and let your heart sort it out.  You got up, got out and went on about your business.  And if it took Castoria to do it, well, so be it.

Now Castoria is not castor oil.  It is vegetable base with a sucrose base.  No wonder I liked the taste!  To this day, I still like prunes...in small amounts of course.  I suppose one could get addicted to things like Castoria.  I didn't.  But it is interesting what they marketed for kids in those days.  And I was surprised to find it is still available, along with Carter's Little Liver Pills (for headaches) and Doan's Pills (for lower back pain).

I suppose there are things I don't miss about my childhood.  Taking this "medicine" is one of them.  What I do miss is the reason the maternal side of my nuclear family gave them to me:  concern, caring, and love.  I do miss thier daily doses of those.

@@@@@@@@@@@@

Below is a brief description of Castoria and two commericials I remember them running.  Hilarious now I suppose, but well intentioned then.  Maybe the simple days were better...maybe.

Fletchers Castoria The Childrens laxative liquid Fletchers Castoria the childrens laxative liquid is for the relief of occasional constipation.  Patented in 1868.

"Children cry for Fletcher's."

"...Fletcher's Castoria was manufactured by Charles Henry Fletcher beginning in 1871 and had been patented in 1868. The initial patent for Castoria included "senna, sodium bicarbonate, essence of wintergreen, taraxicum, sugar, and water." It was modified later to include other things like pumpkin, anise, wormseed to improve the taste to be more like root beer - although I'm not so sure it does! "

Epizootical Hiatus Syndrome

I think I am on a brief hiatus.  I think I am not feeling creative.  I think I have nothing to write today.  The mind is tired, the body logy.  I started to write a blog yesterday and it is still in draft format.  I just can't seem to get back to it.

I think it is the weather.  Reports are that it is unseasonably hot in the midwest, southwest and northeast of the US.  Here in So Cal it is cool and cloudy, June gloom in full bloom.  I am very susceptible to the influences of atmospheric pressures and temperature fluctuations.  And I wake with the sun and begin to fade with sunset.  Yet I do like this weather and often think I should be living in the northwest rather than her on the edge of the dessert.

I think I have what my dear auntie would have called the epizootic.  This is defined in Merriam's as a bug or disease moving through animals of a similar species.  My aunt said it was when you are feeling off for no particular reason and that word just fits the feeling.  So I am claiming it to describe my general lack of motivation right now to do what I should/could/would like to do.

There is a lesson here, though.  Obviously I am doing what I wasn't inclined to do today.  Notice?  Yep, I am writing a blog about not writing a blog thereby writing the blog.  I love it when I trick myself like this.  I do know that sometimes when I don't feel like doing something, the best thing is to just start and somehow the motivation follows.  Turn it over to the Higher Power and the great HP will take care of it, or something like that.

So here you go.  There you have it.  All that falderal.  Nothing like giving in to a foolish foolish trifle to find you actually have something to say.  So no, I guess I am not on hiatus afterall.  The epizootics have evaporated.  Now I need to go back a finish yesterday's blog.  Wait until you see what it was about! 

Clap On

Have you ever watched people clap their hands?   I mean like when they are applauding or when they are keeping time to the music?  No two people ever seem to do it the same.  Some folks applaud enthusiastically.  They slap their hands together slightly crossed wildly and joyfully.  Others clap gently, as if they are afraid to be heard.  Some folks clap their hands together lined up as if to pray, but instead bringing them together to make a happy noise. 

Some people stand up and put one arm in the air and wait for it to be met in a "high five" by someone else who shares the moment of exaltation.  Some daintier clappers hold one hand very still and politely tap the fingers of their other hand on the palm making a sound like water falling on water.  And their are some people who sit on their hands and grit their teeth and would never give anyone the satisfaction of knowing they were appreciative of what had just occurred, whether it be a moving piece of music, a stirring drama,  a rousing or inspirational oration or just a moment of sheer joy.

Clapping hands seems to be a universal non-verbal expression of emotion the world over.  And of course their is the old woman who wants the lights to turn off so she has the clap-on, clap-off thing-a-ma-bob on her bedside lamp.  And a clap on the back signals approval or understanding. 

Nothing signals approval more than a rousing round of applause.  And it is totally human just how unique each clapper claps.  So clap your hands if you're happy and you know it, clap your hands if you really wanna show it.  Clap a hand with a friend.  As a simple indicator of the average opinion of an entire group, the louder and longer the noise, the stronger the sign of approval.  And even thought there are times when clapping may not be appropriate, you can still let your heart applaud the moment with a smile or a nod.

What Color is Nothing?

Nothing: something that does not exist.  But if nothing is something that does not exist, does it not exist then?  I mean, if nothing is something then it cannot be nothing.  Can something be nothing when that nothing is something?  But then, is or is not the reverse true?  Can something be nothing as in, "it is nothing to me"?  That of course means it means nothing to me.  But even then, doesn't meaning nothing to me, ultimately mean something?  In order for something to mean nothing, it must mean something: that something, of course, being nothing.

What started me down this convoluted maze, this maddening and never-ending rash of questions being answered by questions and answers being questioned by their own answer,  is some reading I have been doing recently regarding God and the creation of the universe, and of the world and of you and of me.  Being human, I am told, prohibits me from really understand how it all came into being.  Surely, I say, God created the universe!  Something or someone had to have set this all in motion.  That's a given.*  But what, whom?  And, even more intriguing than that is, what was it that existed before?  What was God doing before he inspired life?  Always is a long time, and eternity even longer; yet what, pray tell, came before....and ultimately, what will come after?  God only knows.  Or so we hope.

So here's an experiment: try to think of nothing.  Just try it.

Okay, what were you thinking?  Weren't you thinking about something?  Remember nothing is something and if you are thinking of something you cannot think of nothing.  Kind of like that old elephant in the living room 

Aye!  This all makes my head swim.  I cannot still my mind enough to allow nothing to fill it.  Maybe if someone (or no one) whispered sweet nothings in my ear.  Maybe if I do nothing, say nothing, listen to nothing, nothing will happen, but then as it always does, something happens because, well, you get my drift by now.

I love this quote of Jalal ad-Din Rumi, Persian Poet and Mystic, who lived 1207-1273: “We come spinning out of nothingness, scattering stars like dust”.  It seems so magical.  And isn't that what life really is?  Magical, mystical, miraculous?  Coming out of the nothingness, inspired by God into becoming more than nothing, something, someone.

Maybe Woody Allen summed it up best. "Eternal nothingness is fine if you happen to be dressed for it."  That said, I think I need to change clothes.

*Maybe not so much a given because it has not been proven but there are very few other theories that could possibly explain how this, and by "this"  I mean this existence we all find ourselves in currently.  Something had to have started it...in couldn't have been nothing.

Words

I do hope this goes viral.  It could be epic.  Ultimately, it is too big to fail.  If you think about it, it has a real wow-factor.  Sit back, think about it, and I am sure you will have your own a-ha moment, just as I did.  Take time to discover the back story.  Talk it over with your BFF.  Eventually you will man-up and realize that it cannot be refudiated.  It is as if the mama grizzlies amassed their forces against the American people.  I'm just sayin', if you facebook this or google it, you will find yourself living life to the fullest.

Notice anything about the paragraph above? Lots of admonitions.  Many imperatives.  Seems to have an urgent message, but what is it?  Maybe I am saying that I hope this blogpost goes "viral" and is read around the world.  Maybe I am alluding to something that is so much biggest than all of us, but cannot prove.  Maybe, just maybe, I am having fun...something which I am known to do using words.

Here's the real scoop.  The first paragraph contains the Lake Superior State University 2011 List of Banished Words.  These are words they feel have been overused and, when you hear them, you often cringe.  It is funny, but true.  The sad fact is that, even when someone like Oprah introduces the concept of an "a-ha moment", when it is used and used and over-used again, it becomes cliche, annoying and sadly, annoying.  As the most essential part of effective communication, words must somehow remain fresh, alive and meaningful.  I suppose this is accomplished by speaking from the heart, simply and directly.   I surmise this is easier said than done.

Below is the list of words from LSSU.  If you go to the site, you can look up the lists from years past.  It is interesting to see all the words and terms that are still in circulation today even though they have in many cases become trite and empty.  The bottom line is words are the communicative coins we all use to reach for  understanding and connectivity (another overused word). 

Remember words are things.  They hang around, attach to your surroundings and can both create and hinder your life and loves.   When you speak, speak in truth and honesty with sensitivity and compassion and most importantly, remember sometimes using no words at all can speak volumes.

**********

Lake Superior State University 2011 List of Banished Words

http://www.lssu.edu/banished/current.php

Viral

Epic

Fail

Wow Factor

A-ha Moment

Back Story

BFF

Man-up

Refudiate

Mama Grizzlies

The American People

I'm Just Sayin'

To Facebook or Google

Live Life to the Fullest

When Your Heart Is Not In It

"The quieter you become, the more you can hear."  ~ Ram Das

I have spent a lot of time this week being quiet.  Not always on purpose, but for most of the week, it has just worked out that way.  Because of this, I came to realize just how much time I spend "doing" and how much time a do not give to "being", you know, doing things just to be doing because I feel I "have to" rather than doing things because they are my calling, enhancing mybeingness.

In the quiet you can, as Ram Das suggests above, hear so much more.  I have been hearing that small voice inside my head asking "Why are you doing this?"  more and more often of late.  So I have stop and ask myself, "Why am I doing this or that?"  Now I not talking about this blog.  It is something I truly enjoy.  (Hope you do too).  But what about all the other stuff I do?  I find myself reflecting on whether my heart is really in it and if not, why am I doing it?

I have learned in the past that some things we do are in order to avoid doing other things we should or are afraid to do.  These are things like going to the fridge and/or cupboard and looking for comfort, or going to Costco when you really don't need anything.  Or maybe it is saying yes to something you would really rather say no to because you are afraid people will stop asking entirely and you will be left behind.  Now there is a lesson in all that which I have to keep learning over and over for some reason.

I know I want to write.  I want to create writings of inspiration and whimsy, wisdom and observation.  I want to do this not only in my writings, but in all my environment and in my life.  I have a friend who I jokingly tell that fun is not something I like.  Of course that is a lie.  How can anyone not like fun?  To me, these creative activities would and are fun!


So I guess it is all a matter of listening to the heart.  Your heart knows the truth of you.  It tells you in many ways whether you are being true to yourself and your true purpose in life.  Figuring out that purpose may not be easy, but, if you are quiet and listen, you can hear it being more clearly defined in your heart of hearts.  When your heart is not in something you do, you know it.  And, believe it or not, those around you at least sense it too.

So if you notice me being quiet, I am not being rude or aloof.  If I am with you, it is because I want to be with you.  The relective pose may be because I am hearing the voice within.  And if I say no to something, do not be offended.  And on the same note, if I say yes to something, know that it is because my heart is in it.  The heart knows and the mind must be stilled to hear what the heart is saying.  And my your heart be in all that you do.

Life Put Your Heart Into It Stained Glass by Mary Engelbreit