The Gifts of Choice 3-4-19
From my window I’m observing the world as it is awakening,
It’s ahead of me this morning but I won’t play catch-up.
I’ve come to appreciate these solemn moments of pondering
Where thoughts are not contrived or managed in any direction.
Memories play within empty halls inside leaving behind echoes.
To fill up that space seems wrong right now, so I leave it be.
The need to be someone is gone and that allows for a freedom,
Like a vast and empty canvas to throw color at , unplanned.
Each day presented now relaxes into itself, ripening and expanding.
The lists and agendas dance about in my mind and I see to them.
That constant, inside badgering to prepare, produce and provide
Has quieted itself and flows gently in it’s own free direction.
I am removing the sticks and stones that have deterred the waters
Letting them ripple spontaneously wherever they may decide to go.
A slight breeze is evidenced in the gentle rocking of yellow daffodils
While raindrops bounce and jump about the puddles in the yard.
I am realizing that life is and always has been chaotically ordered
Furious and deafening, constantly moving, yet ultimately purposeful.
I cannot and do not desire to change it but rather, I can treading and out
Letting it carry me from one place to another, I can determine my own course.
Like a fast moving passenger train, life surely races swiftly through time
I’m learning to embark and disembark as the need arises and choice dictates..
No longer pushed or pulled in directions I would prefer not to go in
I’m choosing to get on board, riding along and enjoying the scenery.
I’ve been given the opportunity to retreat occasionally for the needed R&R
Filling up my reserves for another attempt to meet the pandemonium.
I’ve discovered a level of personal choice I hadn’t known before.
This time I am not some witless weed being tossed about by the wind.
This time I am choosing to remain planted until my flowers fully bloom.
Remaining & admiring the view or deciding to move again, the choice is mine.
Being Seventy Something 3-2-21
At some point,
Don’t know when or where
I stepped off the path and decided
Enough was enough!!!
One day I had decided
To get off the beaten path
Park myself and sit awhile.
Watching my memories
Swept along in a current
I was acutely aware
I had no desire
To get back on the road.
I'd grown tired of the pace
Preferring to stop and observe.
After all I am still reeling
At seeing my age printed
Right at the top of a page.
When did that happen?
I really can’t relate to it
Back to slowing the pace
I've been letting myself
Revisit the, “Back-When” again
I can feel myself exhale.
To be honest, it's all just fine.
I’m still upright and breathing.
And that’s a good thing any day.
I am amused just recalling
The cacophonous noise
Of crowded dance floors,
Perfectly content to say
"Been there, done that!"
These 72 year old bones
Would rather just and watch.
Swept along in a current
Of living life on the edge,
Frantically trying to keep up.
Comparing my progress
To the rest of the herd
My fragile self esteem became
Battered and bruised.
In between all the the fun,
The frenetic pace and
The adrenaline rushes
Going back for more,
When I knew I shouldn’t
Seduced by the drama of it all
I’m comfortable right where I am.
So, I’m seventy two, so what!!
I’ve survived my past and
Lived to tell about it.
That’s an accomplishment
` In and of itself.
I don’t waste the time I’ve got left
With regrets. It doesn't change a thing.
Having a furry companion is paramount to surviving the trials of life. The truth is I don't know if I'd do very well without mine.❤️
Yoga With My Dog 11-29-17
Before dawn the sky is an ineffable hue.
Nighttime’s blanket of stillness remains.
Sunrise still awhile away, morning approaches.
I watch the sun paint the leaves of each tree.
Rendering them gold, they light the garden.
I am inside wrapped in my night clothes, warm.
In my hands I am holding a hot cup of coffee
Feeling and tasting it’s warmth and comfort.
A candle breaks the dawn with its flickering.
On a pillow on the floor I welcome the morning.
Listening to the soft meditative words of a song
I find my center letting thoughts drift in and out.
Tears come and are replaced with a memory and I smile.
Nearby I hear the rustling of my little companion.
He nuzzles me and pushes himself into my space.
Moving through poses meant to loosen my limbs
He rolls over and lets me scratch his fur
Joining in the stretch, he and I greet the day.
From: A Widow's Walk by Diane Burns-Haussler
Being Alright With Not Being The Same 2-5-21
The words, “I don’t think I’ll ever be the same again” resonated deeply with me.
They were spoken by someone who had lost his beloved after many years together.
I have thought and felt the very same way, many times, over the last few years.
How could life ever have meaning again? Where would I be able to find joy again?
Initially there were no indications that I would ever recover from the loss and sadness.
My entire world had lost all its color, had gone dark and I could barely function.
Over time, however, signs of spring and the newness it brings began to get my attention.
Sometimes I heard my own laughter breaking the silence, startling and surprising me.
Without really knowing it, time was buffing out the sharp edges, softening the blow.
I suppose I cried a little less, smiled a little more and began to notice I was still alive.
Because I had lost the ability to pay attention life had gone on, seemingly without me.
And in the interim parts of me began to heal a little. I was no longer an open wound.
Maybe this is the resilience that is spoken about. That tenaciousness of being human.
I realize that not everyone survives deep trauma but the reality is that most of us do.
Sometimes I have thought of myself as a stone tossed and tumbled about in the sea.
Originally rough, cracked and jagged after a long time becoming smooth and beautiful.
When I look back at where I was I do see some progress and I am truly grateful for it.
In spite of wrestling with thoughts of “who am I?” I think I’m beginning to find out.
At least I feel a bit of a spark inside tickling a curiosity to find out what might be next.
This is new and I think it’s because I have begun to accept this new version of me.
Moving out from under the perpetual cloud, day in and day out, one step at a time
I found myself a stranger in a strange land but I am beginning to be okay with it.
I don’t know when that happened but I suspect it didn’t suddenly happen all at once.
It’s been a gradual metamorphosis from obliteration to finally feeling I might live again.
Grief, that was once a stalking hound has surprisingly become a welcome companion.
It has shown the way through every necessary tear, teaching me the value of them all.
So now when I remember, I might shed more tears but then find that I am smiling too,
I am realizing that I have actually become more than I was not in spite of, but because of.
Being blasted apart and then having the willingness to open myself to be repaired
I didn’t know it then but see it now, love is putting me back together one piece at a time.
Sometimes I have to rant about what's wrong to clear the air in order to find my way back to center where I can see what's right again.
I am insufferably bored
I have run out of ways
To express my gratitude
Yes, I am grateful...BUT
Lighting a fire under me
Has become challenging.
The matches are damp
And downright wet
And I am really, really
Tired of making lemonade
Out of a huge pile of lemons!
Usually I am a self starter.
I've learned to motivate
Inspire and investigate
Various ways to spice up
Animate, elevate and
Exhilarate my life...BUT
I've simply run out of fuel!
Upon awakening each day
Greeted with sunshine
Rain, fog, more rain,
More fog, more sunshine
Bored, out-of-my head bored
Utterly, undeniably bored
Tired, fatigued, spiritless.
I have become weary
Of putting on a happy face
In the face of a pandemic
That has casually wiped out
Millions of people worldwide
Plus trying to be cheerful about
Our mother earth revolting.
Turning the other cheek
When hostility assaults
For the unforgivable,
Choosing to love
When I would rather
Hire an assassin.
No wonder I am worn out.
For months upon months
We have all been under siege,
Attempting to sort out
That which we cannot sort.
A ravenous virus, fires, floods
Blizzards, rotten politicians
A world turned on itself.
Hard to find the cheery,
To keep smiling at adversity,
Search for the silver lining,
Put on a happy face
When I would rather cry.
At the bottom of a hole
There is only one way...UP.
Up to another day to create
Up to reinventing myself again,
Up above the clouds
Up to brighter possibilities
Up where the skies are bluer
Up beyond the rain, behind the sun
UP....to where I can breathe again.
Last night I said, "Hello" to you 'neath the almost full moon.
As always a sweet exchange, audible from only one side.
Feeling your presence as always, I wondered, as always I do,
Is this me wanting you with me or are you really, truly here?
No matter though, as every month, the moon comes full again.
I feel my senses sharpen and my heart open to let the magic in.
Here, a few hours later, basking in the morning sunshine,
I am lost in the reveries of last nights gift of dreams.
So often I wish I could be held just once more, if only....
We might have just one more chance to spend another night
Deep in a space unchanged by time, unaltered by circumstance
Where you and I might have that "One More Dance".....forever.
I decided that I needed a place to post stuff that I'd just finished writing or painting or new ideas for things I'd like to work on in the future.
It's kind of a scrap book of things that I want to save so I can look back on it and catalogue my progress.
I can post the latest things I've written so it can be accessible to those who want to read them.
The things I create are to share. It isn't always about making stuff to sell. I have spent a number of years doing just that.
I painted pictures and sold them. I wrote songs, sang them and recorded them, performed them and sold the recordings.
Now I want to play, to explore and see what I can do to help paint the world a little brighter.
This where I'm going to do that.