Egg Hunt?

Oh, boy, old habits die hard.  It is Easter time and as I prepare for our family gathering, I can not help but revert back to the days when I would hold an annual Easter egg hunt for my children, their friends and the neighborhood kids.  Each year it grew to be more and more elaborate. From the initial invitation, to the preparation, I was a victim of perfectionism.  I always had to have a unique and personal invitation, something no one else had seen before.  (One year, my daughter Kerrin hand drew each invite.)  This was my "thing".  I loved the idea of having a massive egg hunt, entirely organized the way I envisioned, from start to finish.  My vision, to make everyone invited feel as though they wouldn't want to miss it.  I would ask others to bring some type of food for the event but I was in charge of all the eggs, prizes and the stuffing and hiding.  The idea developed after my children were left out of a neighborhood hunt in my old neighborhood.  As I kept them hidden in the house while the other kids hunted, I thought, the only way to  change this scenario is to do something myself. The following year I found myself in a new neighborhood and I decided my children were not going to miss the party because I was going to have it and thus an annual tradition ensued.  What started out with 300 hundred eggs and 20 participants, soon grew to 1500 eggs and 60 hunters.  It was a huge undertaking that I thoroughly enjoyed.  I would spend hours finding unique toys and candy to stuff the eggs with.  I would also have prize eggs that rendered the finder a special something they could select from the prize closet. I had different sections of the yard and woods for hunting, divided into various age categories. I would spend hours being sure that each age category had the same number of eggs and that there were equal "special " eggs for all ages.  When I tell you this was an undertaking, it was an event I would spend months planning and coordinating. All year long, the egg hunt was a thought that lingered in my mind.  Whenever I was out shopping, small toys would catch my eye and I would be thinking, "that could fit in a plastic egg, better buy a dozen".  Fun for all was my priority. I had an over abundance of prizes because of the wide range of ages that would attend and their differing interests.  In addition to the hunt for the children was a party for the parents. It was always delightful chaos and I loved being able to catch up and party with my friends and neighbors.
I now have an attic filled with the empty egg shells, and some left over prizes that I have yet to donate.  All of this makes me both happy and sad.  The memories are fantastic and I hope I created some great memories for others as well, yet I was sad to see it all come to end, but when my children got too old for egg hunts, I could no longer justify the time and money I spent on this event.  
As I prepare for an egg hunt for five children, my old inclinations resurface.  I am out searching for cute little toys to put in the eggs as well as a variety of candy.  I also have my prize closet fully stocked with more prizes than children, just in case..., what I don't know, but better to have more than less.  I focus on my menu as well as the toys, but deep down, I long for the days when my lawn was covered with plastic eggs and the street was loaded with anxious hunters!  As life moves on, I am now seeking the "prize egg", that will bring me back to the days when I was able to bring joy to my children and their friends, with something as simple as some plastic eggs filled with candy, strewn about on the lawn.  The hunt is on!!!

Taking Action

When you don't want to be the person you are

and you know the person you want to be

then simply,

Let your actions be an extension of the person you want to be remembered as

Free Expression Tunnel

When I went to visit my son at NC State, one of my favorite spots on campus was a tunnel that brings the students underground for a short stint.  This tunnel is called the "Free Expression Tunnel", and it is just that.  The students are allowed to express themselves here, without limitations.  It is an array of words and drawings in large scale spray paint. Some would look at it and see only a jumble of  spray painted mess but I saw creativity and inspiration here. Whether I stood back and saw it from a distance or inspected it close up, it was an impressive display of integrated individualism. Many were overlapping each other, while others stood out quite graphically, all while maintaining the character of the tunnel, as it's own unique piece of art. A visual village of parts that creates an unexpected whole. 

What a lofty idea, to converge varied voices, images and concepts without fear of retribution. 

In an odd way, that is exactly what my blog is, although I am the sole contributor.  It allows me the freedom to say exactly what I am experiencing, without having to face the judgement of others.  There is something to be said for being anonymous, unknown, a masked writer.  I can hide behind my words like a party goer at a masquerade.  I can be a fool or a poet,  a clown with a pen or a scribe with a virtual soap box.  I do not need to face the crowds and cower in fear of their rejection or stammer over my words and filter my thoughts.  This is my free expression tunnel and I'm the sole designer.

Tired Progress

When you're worn out and tired, the best thing to do is give yourself a goal, however small. It gives you a purpose and an avenue toward progress.  If you can show me someone who does not want to progress, I'll show you someone who is obsolete.

Feed the Read

Here's a question I get asked all the time and I have to be honest, I generally don't answer it truthfully.  It is a question that has nothing to do with my weight or my age, nor does it have anything to do with embarrassing moments in my life.  It's a question people ask quite often and most people have an answer that quite possibly changes as they age, or varies with added exposure. 
The question; "What's your favorite book?" 
I generally answer with either a recent read or a classic that has endeared itself to me, but if I were being totally honest, I'd say my favorite book has more characters than I could possibly remember.  It's plot and story line are non existent and yet, every time I open it up I unearth something new and previously undiscovered. It's rich variety, is it's best feature.  You can pick it up and put it down  at will, without regard for missing a beat. It is easy to follow and enlightening, and it's Roget's Thesaurus... I love it!!!
All those words and their synonyms.  I could spend hours perusing it's pages, searching for the perfect word to savor. Just the right word can transform my delivery with smooth, delicate undulations, or bold, bitter force. When I find that word, that can escalate my thoughts and express them with a spirited vibrancy and quintessential pith, it nourishes my mind and electrifies my soul.  It is the one book that nurtures and enriches my existence and I can't imagine a more satisfying read.

Assuming Expectations

     ~ Meet Assume & Expectation ~ 

Two free radicals, out of one's control

         Avoid, at all costs, a marriage of the two 

for they will most assuredly lead 

        to an eventual birth of Disappointment

Solitary Definement

The next time you are alone, think about this...

Selective solitude is a choice

Isolation is a punishment

in other words...

you are either opting out

or out of options

Rolling Stone

When we know the stone is rolling down the wrong path
Do we try to change it's course
or do we watch it crash?
Jumping in front of a moving object can be dangerous
but conceding to it's  destruction is negligent

Pursuing Sparkle

When sadness swallows your sparkle
strike a superficial smile and pursue it's promise

Stream Line

As time ticks on I am thoughtless, blank, empty
with each passing minute, I feel the pressure of incomplete obligation
Limitations of time leave me wanting more
but the clock denies me
It is a daily challenge to accommodate accomplishments
within an allotted time
As the task wedge expands, my freedom diminishes
I begin to resemble a fish caught on a line,
flailing about in a personal struggle to break free from that which binds
Time is the tether that stifles my stream

Fancy Footwork

Prepare for the eventuality, don't wait for the event to occur...
Recognizing the inevitable need for change is the prelude to the process
Taking that first step may be the hardest footwork to master
But once initiated, it's a waltz you'll glide into
If you wait for the party train to move you, you've already missed the dance

Courage to Give

We've all put ourselves out there at times, but the worst feeling is when you put yourself out there and the reaction is an immense disappointment.  You can almost hear the thump of it's dead weight as it falls.  It is equal, in it's crushing reality, to rejection, a personal affront that could cause some to become shell shocked, and withdrawn but the stronger variety will realize that the act of offering is not so much about the reaction to it's presentation as it is about the courage to give. Every person will not see things or understand them in the same light.  We can not worry about being misunderstood, we can only try to contribute. 
If we allow apprehension to steer us, it is a faulty navigation system and we run the risk of being eternally lost.

Know What?

If we all knew the answers, then who would care?

Shrewd Lion

Heart of a lion, courage of a shrew
What's the shy and lonely to do?
Cower in silence, until the day
the shrew comes up and finds her way
Blazing a path of confident light
She finds her voice and fields it's flight
Sending it off to pierce and soar
The shrew has finally found it's roar

Silent Vacuum

living in a silent vacuum, sucks all the life out of you

but no one hears it

Black and Blue

As darkness closes in
I swallow hard
I close my eyes and nothing changes,
I think,
I concentrate,
I seek the light
but illumination evades me
The chase is on
but still darkness
it envelopes my entire existence
I can either freeze or stumble through it

I choose to proceed
and as I do, bruising is inevitable
the extent of which will not be known
until a dawning breaks through
but still
darkness
of the black and blue variety

One Wrong Thread

When everything is in place and all is aligned
We often stumble upon a loose thread
Some can leave it, while others have to tug at it
Trying to achieve perfection in the suit
The trick is to be careful not to antagonize a critical connection
Pull one wrong thread and it may cause a total unfurling
Leaving us entirely exposed with no recourse from the reveal

I Don't Want to Know

We can't get the answers because we don't ask
We don't ask because we fear the answers
We fear the answers because we don't want to face our reality

Avoiding the unpleasantness of our reality, is the equivalent of neglecting a need
All of which invites failure to the precipice

Approaching Mystery

My dog Stella's recovery progresses every day.  While she is still unable to jump and run after other animals the way she used to, I am happy to say she is now able to walk for an hour with minimal lag time.  The hills in our neighborhood have become more manageable and she attempts to run on occasion.  She now jumps and climbs low hurdles that we encounter in the woods.  She manages the stairs in the house, as well as maneuvers her way onto the living room couch and our bed, and it's all very welcome!

Today on our walk, she did something very uncharacteristic and it got me thinking about what a difference an approach can make on a situation.  As we walked the neighborhood, I noticed she picked up the pace and started to really dig her feet into the ground as she walked.  I could tell, if she had her legs of last year, she would have been darting off in a fury after whatever it was she smelled, but the situation being what it is, she was limited by her own weakness.   She was doing what she could within her means.   As we came upon a cluster of bushes, she casually, walked in to the brush, head firm and stared.  As I caught up to her, (yes, she was a head of me), there it was, a cat, sitting in the mulch, staring back at her.  The cat looked scared with it's back hunched up, and Stella looked dumbfounded.  Neither one moved and they remained transfixed for about 45 seconds.  Only when I called her off did she hop around a little, as if to say, "but I want to play".  The cat never moved, never hissed and never flinched.  It remained in it's post in the brush, just watching.  This was the same cat, that six months ago (and two healthy legs ago), Stella chased up a tree.  Her approach then was to barrel at the cat, running full force, with no plan but to get there as quick as she could and pounce. The cat, seeing a 65 pound beast darting toward it, had no alternative, but to run up the nearest tree, hissing.  That was it, Stella altered her approach and she ended up being the cat's meow!

That simple episode, made me realize that the end result is ultimately determined by the way in which we initiate action.  Tackle something with haste and fury, and that which you seek eludes you.  Come up to it calm and focused and you may find, you have time to capture the detail behind the mystery.

Immersed in Inertia

When you lack depth perception, everything appears flat and dull
The same is true of depth of soul,
The slight of mind, lack the ability to project a bright future
Their structure is merely a shallow shoal
Immersed in inertia

Building a Rainbow in 3D

If our actions were transferred and reflected in a portrait, how many of us would like what we drew?

Imagine this, for every kindness,we are given a stroke of color from a painter's palette and for every harshness a splash of black.  In addition to this, consistency would earn depth, but one transgression would erase a layer of your painting.
Think of what a challenge it would be to maintain a rainbow of color in the picture, with intensity to match.
Life is just a drawing of a different nature, but try to envision what color you contribute to life with every action you render and let the rainbow flourish.

Connect the Dots

Resistance to change stunts growth
Unwillingness to adapt shortens longevity
Refusal to accept falsifies existence
Inability to connect nullifies life

Silent Sea

Waiting for a wave of thought
to wash a shore ....

Looks like the seas are calm tonight

Mind Joggling

My peaceful place is anywhere
that I can be alone
Weeding in the garden,
building walls of stone,
basking in the solitude
afforded me at night,
calmly I regenerate
as darkness turns to light

I'm ultimately tranquil
when I venture out to jog,
with each revolving footstep
I clear the densest fog.
My mind is refreshed
while endorphins get me high,
consciousness is bouncing off
my slightly heavy thighs

Physical and mental
both a vital part of life.
together they insinuate
to numb the jagged knife.
Life can prove chaotic,
overwhelming in it's pace,
I find my inner peace
and offer it as global brace.
For only in the giving
of my visceral virtue,
can true peace be attained
as all pretense now subdued.

Present to Receive

Sometimes it's a choice and other times, it's what you are given
In either case, be happy you are present to receive

Doors of Doubt ~ On Your Way Out

The minute you allow self doubt to creep in, accomplishment stalls
as fear builds and confidence falters
the more you start to question yourself.
As doubt grows,
the door opens
but it does not open for you to gain access
it opens for another to enter.
If they are courteous, they will hold the door for you
but be careful of the false genteel.
It is he, who holds the door ajar
only to let you out
then swiftly,
closes the door behind you.

Regardless of whether it is shut softly or slammed,
what appears to be a respectful gesture
is merely a mask for a selfish slap
that is sure to hit you, on your way out

Static Pause

How often have you spent hours waiting for something, only to be ultimately disappointed with the end result.  The comment, "That was a waste of time", dribbles off your tongue and you leave your post in disgust, feeling wasted and disgruntled.  Conversely,  if you find yourself saying, "That was time well spent", you are thrilled and enthusiastic, ecstatic that you remained true to the task.

Waiting is a pendulous advent where we choose to leave our lives in suspension. Whether by our own accord or an outside directive, we agree to defer and only after our willingness to halt action concludes, do we know if our time was well spent.

The act of static pause, is a game of unknown value until it is history...

Mind's Eye

The mind's eye is only as sharp as it is open
unveil the top and drink it all in,

discarding all that detracts from the journey

Sometimes you have to go outside the lines to make the picture pop
so be sure to go beyond the boundaries on occasion

The thought you neglect
 could be the next stroke of genius

imagination is only as broad as you're willing to reach

Vintage Verse

Conversation is a free commodity, approved for use by everyone.  The act involves the exchange of dialect, ideally with varietals in substance, inflection, and guise.  Some are more generous with their vernacular while others fair on the stingy side. Additionally, some age gracefully into their verse and it becomes a more predominant presence in their lives.  Others struggle with  a weaker vintage, lacking in consistency and strength, but the worst is when you come across a magnum propagated from sour grapes.  There is no pleasure to be found in a bad batch, best to let them stew in their own juices.

Sour Lemons

When life gives you lemons,

brave the sour

and suck it up!

Birds Fly

There's a lot of good stuff in here, if I could just find it. Sound familiar???
Well, maybe not in the same context, but, many a night when I sit down to write, this is what goes through my mind.  Sometimes, I have the topic all ready to go.  It's generally something that happens during the day, whether it is a discussion, an event, or just an awakening, I have a basis for my blog.  Other nights, like tonight, I have to dig deep, really, really deep, to unearth the reveal.
There are an amazing array of ideas that flit through my mind throughout the day and most often they storm when I'm sleeping.  Often, I awake to write them down, but lately I've just been, too damn tired.  As I roll over and snooze away, I know I've just let the bird fly.  Sometimes they come back and sometimes they don't, it's a risk I've grown familiar with, and of late, the bird is long gone.  So I am left to sit, with keyboard at the ready, and just improvise.
Much of what I write is undeveloped and I have to put it back in the incubator to grow. When I'm struggling to write, I'll go back to my drafts to see if I can nurture them, feed them and kick them out of the nest.  Right now I have an estate of a nest. No one's ready to fly the coop and I'm putting on an expansive addition.
As I allow my revelations to swirl about, I am thankful that I have a mind that is creative enough to stir up a theme with little more than two words.  Tonight I saw a bird fly and this is what he brought me.