Waiting for the Words

Sometimes there is nothing to say.  No words come to mind.   Not a single intelligible utterance could possibly fully communicate the thoughts and emotions of the moment.  It is those times that all you can do, all you should do, is take a deep breath and be still.  In the quiet the realization will come.  The understanding slowly seeps into your very being, your base, your soul.  The world dissolves away. All that is left is you.  Your swollen heart fills your chest.  You see as you've never seen before.  The truth is crystal clear.  You awake to find the dawn has come.  The answer just is.  Awake. The words will come.  They always come.

Thank God for Colds

I am thanking God for this cold I have.  Now I know God didn't single me out personally to catch a cold.  I ignored His loving care and threw caution to the wind.  I went out in the night air without sufficient clothing.  (No, not naked, but not bundled up in a parka either)  I guess I didn't eat right, although I thought I was.  Maybe not enough fresh fruit and vegetables.  Perhaps inadequate attention to drinking liquids.  All possibilities have been considered.  And I have been doing pretty well in the exercise and activity area.

But still the cold caught me.  It really is more of a sinus thing.  With two dogs, a cockatiel, a cat, and three guest chickens in residence, the house does get a bit dusty with dander and sheddings.  And I do haul out the vacuum and dust mop and such, but evidently not often enough.  So I caught up while shut in over the past three days and am relatively confident Erma Bombeck and Phyllis Diller would approve, but Martha Stewart and Heloise would still have something to say.

But as I walked the dogs for the first time in a couple days, it occurred to me that this cold was God's natural way of telling me to slow down, loosen up and breathe right.  It is very hard for me not to force the world to revolve around me.  And it is just as hard for me to feel sorry for myself when the world goes on without me actively involved.  But the truth is, the world does go on whether I am up and at 'em or languishing in bed.  While I am not the center of the universe, I am the center of my world and without me, well, where would I be?  And without God, well, thank goodness that is not possible since we are never without God!

So here I go, resuming some normal activities this week.  But I have a renewed consciousness.  I am aware I am not invincible.  I need to take care of myself.  It is God's will.  If I don't, then who will take care of the rest of the world?  Oh, ya....He will.

Them What Have

Sometimes it seems some folks just get it all.  They get the big pay for little work, the big home for little down, the accolades for doing very little.  I don't know, but I suspect it might be because they have a well played horn.  Me, I don't have one.  I seldom blow my own horn.  It just isn't something I do.  Sure, I like recognition...who doesn't?  But I am content most of the time to be a background person and work behind the scenes.  That's just me.

Now I will take some public recognition sometimes in situations where everyone is getting something.  Just don't single me out.  I get awkward.  I want to hide.  Yet if you don't say thank you, well, I just kind of figure you are rude or don't know better.

Appreciation can become an addictive substance.  This is true, especially if the appreciation is for something you may or may not have done, but really wasn't all that much.  And it is especially bad if at any time while doing the appreciated deed you complained or resented it.  Oh heavenly father, I have been at times guilty of that!  It makes the thank you a bit embarrassing to receive.  Next time, I tell myself, just do it.  And if you complained or felt resentment, then you truly weren't giving of yourself.  It was ego or guilt or some such insincere nonsense.

I do appreciate so many things in my life.  And I especially appreciate the people in my life.  They have a lot to bear sometimes in listening to my thoughts and musings, to say the least.  But I appreciate them for being there. 

Gratitude is a funny thing.  The more you live into it, the more you have to be grateful for.  Thanksgiving is everyday if you are playing it right.  Without giving thanks, appreciation is nil.  I may not have the big pay or the big house, but I do sleep at night...usually.  But here I am making a commitment: the next time I have trouble sleeping, I will start counting my blessings.  Surely then, as in the words of the old Bing Crosby song, I will fall asleep.

The Nights of Falls

It is the nights, when they descend upon you, envelope you; those are the times when the memories swirl around you and you realize, once again, that time has rushed on by.  The quiet is truly deafening.  You can hear you mind think.  You can feel every beat of your heart.  You go to the window, push back the blind. The full moon drifting through the clear autumn night sky. 

Remembering times when laughter and music filled your home you can almost accept the tears and loneliness of the  ticking mantle clock.  Being alone, afterall, is not a bad thing.  Being with the wrong person is not a good thing.  Life is a series of choices made moment to moment  You make them in haste or after long and prayerful thought.  Both ways have their consequences.  Both bring their own special brands of joy or pain.  That is the nature of the beast. 

You may want to go to bed to pull the covers up tight and wait for sleep.  Yet sometimes the memories keep washing over you.  You mind will not stop.  You toss, you turn.  And then sometimes you fall asleep without knowing.  Then you awake only to realize that it is you and you alone who choose how to feel.  Knowing this, you choose to continue on.  The dawn always comes and you will choose again...and again...and again.

It all goes on, this life thing.  The more you live it, the more you realize: it is all in how you respond to it.  It is all in how you embrace it or resist it.  It is all, you discover at last, up to you.

A Quiet Evening Alone with Everyone I Know or Have Ever Known

Nothing like a quiet evening home alone.  Turn off the TV.  Fend off the chill from a slow moving cold front.  Listen to the light rain outside.  Watch the dogs curled up together, slowly breathing, occasionally twitching.  The cat purrs in my lap.  The birds settled down for the night.  Time to catch up on some reading.  Letters, newspapers, bills.  A book I have been trying to get back to.  With the doors and windows closed tight, even the  cars driving by on the rain-slicked streets are muted reminders of how life continues to just pass by.

In the quiet I can hear myself think; something I have not stopped to do in some time.  When I pause and reflect, memories flood in like a rush of water filling the reservoirs  of my mind.  Childhood memories, my parents smiling while holding me in their arms.  My grandparents trudging through the snow to get to our front door on Christmas morning.  The day I left Michigan for California.  The births and the deaths, anniversaries and separations.  A long career.  A short romance.  All dance through my head in the silence of the evening as I wait for the ice cream to melt slightly just the way I like it; my treat before going to bed.

I have grown used to living alone, with my "kids", with my memories, with my still firm belief I will succeed.  It is not so bad being here, alone.  In fact, I am not sure I would seek to change that.  Not to say I am not open to whatever new relationship experiences may come my way.  But for now I am content.  This evening, sitting here with everyone I know or have ever known, with me in spirit, warming my heart; how could I ever be lonely?  This feeling will be preserved for future reference.  This is a place I can return to.   Here is where I will retreat to commune with all the saints and the souls who have contributed to who and what I am tonight.

Too Late....?

Sometimes I wonder if it is too late.  Actually, I have often wondered that over the course of my so-called life.  Is it too late to do the things I thought I always wanted to do.  Funny, I can remember thinking that when I was in high school, in college, starting my "career", buying a house, retiring....  Over and over, I wondered if it was too late.  And now, as I look back, I can see it was never too late.  It was always now.  

So then I wonder why I busy myself being busy with things that seem so important that what I thought I wanted to be doing, could wait.  Why is that?  Why do I constantly put my own hopes and desires on the shelf?  Oh, that sounds so like whining, and I apologize.  But really, why are we our own worst enemies?  

The problem as I see it is that affirmation is a powerful narcotic.  I seem to crave it, need it.  It feels so good to be appreciated, to be recognized.  It can seduce you.  Whenever I read  stories of famous writers or artists, it seems they all say that they couldn't do anything else.  That something within them drove them to write or paint or build a bridge.  They report that they couldn't do anything else.  Couldn't do anything else.  

That is when I question my dreams.  That is why a often wonder if it is too late.

Fortunately I am an eternal optimist.  And I know it is never, ever too late.