Moving is such tedious work. However, now and again you’ll find something worth looking at whilst packing.
This afternoon I found old pictures of my family.
It’s odd to think that at one time we all lived under one roof and called this place home. We were a unit – a whole.
How strange to think that at one time my parents were married and that I shared a bathroom with an older sister. It was a simpler time in some ways. I knew what to expect on a daily basis. I knew that when I woke every morning that I would do so to a house that was bustling with life, routine, laughter, wonderful pets and of course love.
When did everything change? How have the years passed so rapidly? When did i become an adult with adult responsibilities?
Time is strange, it usually feels as if it’s passing much too quickly. Yet it’s always the same.
There are moments, when I desperately long to recapture my youth. I want to sit quietly on a Saturday morning eating Apple Jacks while watching The Banana Splits on a great behemoth of a television. I long for the sweetness of our family dog and cats. I desire the simplicity that was childhood, even though at the time, it seemed anything but simplistic.
But don’t we all now and again?
So, I allow myself a bit of dwelling, and then I pull myself out of the reverie, with the thought that yes, sometimes being an adult is difficult. Then I walk to the kitchen, find a bit of cookie dough and eat it for dinner (something I would never have been allowed to do as a child). And once again all is right with the world.
Sweetness is a gift,
given without expectation of return.
It is not lost with the ending of communication.
Nor is it lost with distance.
hang in the ether
cross oceans –
I met a homeless man and his puppy yesterday.
The pup was precious. Big paws and brown eyes.
I had stopped to find my cell phone (which had fallen underneath the passenger seat) and the sweet beast greeted me when I opened my door.
It was a chilly morning and I noticed that the man was wearing a back pack and had only one thin blanket over his shoulders. I imagined them working to keep each other warm in the night and my heart simply broke.
I immediately realized that I had a few dog provisions in the car.
First, my Lulu’s coat.
It is pink and white and it’s been with us for years.
But at that moment, I realized the most important thing was that the little puppy have it. I pulled it out of the back and walked up to the man. He was so thrilled. I worried about the colors (because the pup was male), but he said “the colors don’t matter, it will definitely keep him warm”.
I then went back to the car and found a couple of bones and a sweet little toy.
When I returned to the curb, the puppy was warm and cozy and seemed so happy.
He saw the bones in my hand and was thrilled.
When I left them, bear cub (the puppy) was happily chewing a bone and the man had gone into the store to get coffee with a few dollars I had given him.
As I pulled away, I realized that it’s when we step out of ourselves – our worries and our ego’s, that it is possible to truly be happy.
Love is in the giving and in the knowledge that you just may have made a difference in someone’s life no matter how small.
I collect bits and pieces.
Small shards of moments that I cherished.
Cake toppers and so much more.
Every bit, a reminder of a precious moment once lived joyfully.
I suppose you could say that I am a true romantic.
It seems I have always been this way.
When I was a child I would tape conversations. Knowing (somehow) that one day the voices of loved ones on the tape would be ever so important.
An old poetry book filled with tidbits of my life. Now placed inside an airtight bag for safe keeping.
A mickey mouse cookie missing one ear forever living a cold (yet warm memory) existence within my freezer.
I believe that every lovely experience has a place within my heart and mind.
So, I hold onto the tangible manifestations of all the love, laughter and life.
These moments have shaped and molded me soulfully into the person I am today.
My past is who I am
where I have been.
So, as I move forward into life, I will continue to gather small tokens that I find along the way.
And, they will eventually mingle with the past, adding a rich patina to a life lived.
I awoke early this morning to the sound of rain.
So soothing and tender.
Almost like a lovers whisper in my ear.
It gently roused my slumbering cells and imparted an immediate feeling of peace.
I love the rain.
I long to raise my face skyward and let the wetness fall upon my lips.
Liquid is life.
We’re cradled within it before our birth and choose to relax in its warmth when we are weary.
When we are sad we shed tears. Salty liquid essence that flows from our being just as the raindrops fall from the heavens.
It purifies our bodies and quenches thirst.
Without it flowers would never bloom.
And, what would this world be without such vibrant, sweet-smelling beauty?
So, today, I am most grateful for the rain and all of the lush intensity that it brings.
It’s quiet now.
The lights are low and the house is filled with mellow energy.
Sunday, a day of rest, reflection and peace. A day when dressing is optional, candles are a necessity and delicious food is a must.
There’s something so freeing about spending time with oneself.
Nowhere to go, no obligations and the ability to sleep when the urge hits.
A sweet bellied puppy with a licorice nose and frito toes.
Rain saturated sounds from an open window that let in cool, moist, delightfully scented air.
And the knowledge that all is right in your world.
This was my day.
Sunday mornings mean slow, sweet and delicious things.
The smell and taste of deliciously hot and creamy coffee.
Smooth jazz that seeps into your soul.
Delectable tidbits that tantalize your taste buds.
It’s a day for oneself.
It’s a day to stay in bed with a lover.
It’s a day to rejuvenate your spirit.
Enjoy the peace …
There’s something delightful about left over Chinese take out. Especially in the morning.
That’s right, I’m eating Kung Pao and watching the Sunrise.
Who says that breakfast must be eggs, toast and bacon?
When did we become so accustomed to eating certain things at specific times of the day?
Shouldn’t we begin our days on a spicy note? Won’t it help to not only get your metabolism going but wake you up as well?
On another note, I should be applying mascara at this very moment. However, I am not. It seems that I’m having a wee bit of an issue with priorities this morning, eh?
But, hey, that’s how I roll (okay, I don’t ever use this phrase but it’s just fun)!!
Call me silly but I find something spiritual about chinese soup.
It’s soulful food.
My bowl is a treasure trove of colorful beauty and texture. It feels ‘real’ to me and it’s warmth somehow soothes my soul this evening.
I’ve been thinking lately about changing the way I eat. In the sense that I would like to cut out things that aren’t natural.
They say that if your great-grandmother wouldn’t recognize it as food, don’t eat it.
I have also tried to go organic as much as possible. I delight in the way organic food looks. No shellac coating to make it shiny, or chemicals to mar the health value. Instead, lovely pure color and texture that elicits thoughts of the earth.
I believe that if we started eating for the soul (i.e. organic, fresh, humanely slaughtered, less refined), there would be less illness in the world. And, happier people.
When my food arrived a bit ago I was hungry and ready to eat. But, instead of consuming without thought I took the time to savor each delicious spoonful. I let my taste buds thrill in each bite. I allowed my senses to take over. It wasn’t just sustenance, it was love.
And, isn’t this the way it was meant to be?