Maturing Past

Sometimes we hang onto things because we have nothing else
We hold onto the past, keeping it alive as our present,
because it is all we know
and at the very least,
it is something we can count on.
We know what to expect from it
and even if the past we know, is not a particularly enthralling one,
it is a comfort to know we have something.

At some point, it becomes overwhelmingly apparent
that the past we've grown accustomed to,
no longer appeases
and at this juncture,
it is more than obvious,
that we must mature beyond our past
and flourish into the future.

Are You Bonded?

The more one has invested

the more one has to lose

but choose to stay removed

and your gains are non-existent

and your losses -

even greater

Life is a bonding experience

Stay connected

Sun Dried Ink

When my world starts getting brighter, my creative ink evaporates with the heat of the sun
Only to be returned with the next torrential rain storm

Resource Riddle

A resource we do not have to dig for

it is free of charge and abundantly present

We waist more than we should

and we complain about it constantly

Despite the fact that we check our stash on a regular basis

we still lose it far too often

Regardless of what we do

we are unable to keep it contained

and despite the fact that it expires and replenishes itself

we lose a small piece of it forever

constantly

???????????????

Time's Up

Colors of Callaway

Six years ago today I watched my dog die.  It was a horrible experience that brings me to tears each time I relive it.  Eight months prior to the accident, we adopted a dog from a shelter in Kentucky.  He was driven up to New Hampshire and we drove up to meet him.  He was a mess of mangled fur and stench, but the worst of it was his mental state.  He was only eight months old when we got him, but in his short life, he had already been abused. He was terrified to enter our home and it was a tug of war to get him into the house.  Once in, he would cower in corners and hide under anything he could fit under to get away from us.  It was tragic and incredibly difficult to see the terror in his eyes when we would approach him.  We spent extensive time and money retraining him and he grew to adore us.

 He was highly intelligent, and soon learned how to roll down the window in the car.  His resistance to containment would lead him to jump out of the car window while we were driving and it soon became habit to lock the window mechanism in the car so he couldn't jump out.  He loved other dogs, and when he was out playing with other dogs he was happiest.  He was extremely well behaved outside and off leash and extremely receptive to training in all regards except one.  He became intensely aggressive and protective of us in our home. I believe this was his way of paying us back for saving him..  In some way, he thought by guarding and protecting us, he was keeping us out of harms way., a harms way he was all too familiar with based on his prior situation. Whatever happened to him prior to finding a life with us, drove him to trust few humans, but we were his pack and he was determined to keep us safe. Ultimately, we would have to kennel him if any visitors were coming over and even still, he would growl fiercely and bark upon their entry.  I had young children at the time who were constantly in and out of the house with friends and it became apparent that we would not be able to keep him.



We loved him so we agreed to keep him at our home until they found him another home.  We did our best to continue working with him and keep him active.  One morning while playing with a neighbor's dogs in their yard, Callaway ran just outside the yard.  Another neighbor, driving much too fast hit him.  As he lay unable to move, but still alert, we ran to him.  His eyes locked on mine and I could see his body relax a bit.  He was terrified, as was I, but we quickly scoped him up and put him in the back of a truck and drove to the vet's office.  As we drove on that cool crisp morning, I could see him trying to hang on, glancing my way occasionally, but in far too much shock and pain to stay focused on me.  About half way to the vet's office I could see it was getting tougher and tougher for him. After one last look my way, he closed his eyes, and the life escaped his body.  As he lay in the back of the truck with me and my friend by his side, the mass amounts of blood released from his body and the puddle grew to touch both of us. At that moment, I knew he was gone.  It was heart wrenching and crushing to watch him go, but I am glad I was with him in his last moments.  I truly believe I was his closest friend on this earth.  The short eight months we had him were the best eight months of his short little 16 month life and we gave him the only pleasure he had ever experienced.

He has found another home and as I explained it to my children, this was the only home he could have gone to, that was going to be better than the one home he knew as ours.  I still miss Callaway and think of him often.  Shortly after he died  I wrote this poem about him and I think it sums up his life quite well...

Colors Of Callaway

White with wonder of the newborn snow

Temperamental tan, that comes and goes

Funny freckled feet that bound in play

Black with darkness from his younger days

A regal blond beauty, so meek and mild

Stained with shadings of a life once wild

His off-white streaks, mirror his mind

Chestnut brown eyes, so soft and kind

Pink with innocence, Grey with despair

A spectral of markings, should anyone care

Conflicted in colors, awash with distress

Shining with promise of future success

Inheriting Kindness

The whole idea of hereditary instincts and skills fascinates me.  When I was a child, my mother was extremely crafty.  She would have me scour the neighborhood for interesting items from nature.  I would come home with a bag full of acorns, pine cones, chestnuts, milk weed, wheat stalk, bean pods, and anything else, other than leaves, that trees shed in the fall.  We'd then find an interesting platter, plate, tray, or other source of containment and she would place a candle in the middle that complimented the items I had found.  We would then, hot glue the various treasures from nature around the candle.  We had to be certain to vary the heights, textures and colors of the items, but the end result was a beautiful centerpiece for the table.  This was just one of the many projects we would complete and I must say, this was my favorite.  When we lit that candle or passed them on as gifts, my spirit was equally illuminated with the shear joy of what we had created.  I am told I have inherited that creative flare and this amazes me.  How something that is mind driven can be inherited.  How does that work???  I understand the concept of inheriting physical talents, but when it comes to the brain and how we process information and our preferences, it astounds me that these types of skills can also be passed down from generation to generation.  Just like dogs that are bred to herd, or retrieve, rescue or guard. This too, baffles me.  How a mind, whether human or animal, processes information is something one can inherit, just like hair or eye color, or the ability to run fast, play an instrument, or be a mathematical genius.  All of these traits are passed on...  Does this also mean, compassion, kindness, and generosity are also transferable, or are these characteristics that are taught?  What determine which attributes pass through DNA, and which attributes require influential instruction? 
I guess it's the skills of the heart that are not inherited and that's a good thing.  This means we are all equally capable of being benevolent.  It comes down to how many of us choose to exercise our spirits for the good of others and that is a pattern that can be adopted by any and all, regardless of skill set or predilections. Live by example and warm the world with kindness.

Perfectionism

Perfectionism is an addiction to perpetual progress
It seems as though this would be a good thing
but it is the addiction itself, that handcuffs our happiness
freeing oneself  from these shackles
would be a progress of burgeoning re-birth

Wind Song

We always have the wind to thank for movement...



It brushes past us
and at times through us
stirring the leaves,
that are our thoughts
rustling sounds
that settle our stream of inspiration

A symphony in the woods,
that speaks volumes
without shedding a word

Wandering Nomad

an extrinsic provocateur is really just a wandering nomad
throwing it's weight around, hoping to saddle someone with it's burden
don't be the jackass that gets stuck carrying all the baggage
bear only what you need to make your journey better

Wine Bubble

When you look through glasses, 

it's supposed to clarify your vision

When I look through my wine glass

everything is distorted,

but that's before I take a sip

Once consumed,

 the wine bubble proves to be an elucidating elixir

Empty

A silent scribe and an empty slate
have nothing to offer
and that's me tonight
silent and empty

Visiting Silence

Is there anything more beautiful than silence?

Silence, that allows you to be with your own thoughts

to be you and love it

to ponder what ever you would like

to discover the value of silence, is like rediscovering yourself

or redefining yourself

Silence has no prejudice, no expectations and no limitations

It is liberating and nonrestrictive

Once you become adept at embracing silence

you intoxicate your independence and initiate belief

Silence accepts everyone and rewards those that visit often

Be a silent frequent flyer and travel the world of thought

Do or Be Done

There are many things in life we can practice

                               but living is not one of them

                        Life, 

                               it's a do or be done activity

Friend for Life

As I waited to have blood drawn today I heard a news story that caught my attention.  It was about a dog who stood vigil over it's friend who had been hit and killed by a car.  This dog, sat in the middle of the road with it's friend and refused to move as cars continued to drive past.  Some kind people eventually stopped and put cones up, so the traffic would not run over the one dog that was sitting vigil.  The police and animal control were called and the two dogs were eventually picked up but the entire story struck a chord with me.  I do think the dog sensed that her friend was dead, but even if she didn't, she knew her friend needed help and she was capable of getting that help.  The loyalty and compassion of this dog was astounding.  Here was this dog, refusing to leave her friends side, putting herself in danger, but only doing what she knows; to protect and be loyal.  How touching is that???   Wouldn't it be the greatest thing on earth to have friends like that? How many people truly have friends that would put themselves in danger to stop traffic for you?  Friends that would sit by your side in your toughest moments and stay there, regardless of what transpires around you?  Friends that would go to any lengths to maintain your dignity? That's what this dog did, she sat until help came, preventing more cars from hitting her friend as she lie motionless in the middle of the street.  Anyone who claims dogs don't have the capacity to form meaningful bonds with other animals, hasn't seen what this dog did.  Similarly, there are countless other stories that can attest to the fact that animals are at times, more humane than humans.  We could all learn a lesson from this dog on friendship and humanity.  Dogs aren't just man's best friend, they are exceptional companions, for all, for life with a capacity for caring that exceeds their size by leaps and bounds.

Break Time

Being able to recognize when the guard has left his post
is an essential part of the escape plan
Make a break too soon
and it could lead to recapture
with a longer term to serve

Cottage Cheese in a Blender

I've started running again or, in my case I definitely need to say jogging.  It is a very slow crawl that carries me the three and a half miles I've started with.  I take my IPhone with me for the music but it's also a comfort to know that, should I start to feel a tightening in my chest, I have 911 on speed dial.  I can also call someone if I can't make it all the way and need a ride, but so far neither of those scenarios have happened.  The mere act of jogging brings me back to college when I first started to jog through the mountains of Vermont.  I went to school on the border of Vermont and New York, so I used that to my advantage.  I'd tell people I ran from Vermont to New York hoping they'd be impressed but I think they took one look at me and knew there was some sort of loop hole there.  My jogs these days aren't nearly as long as my runs when I was a real runner, training for a marathon, but I feel good about them.  My neighborhood is quite hilly, so it certainly isn't an easy run.  As a matter of fact, yesterday I had a car trailing me as I dragged myself up one of the many hills I encounter on my course.  I stopped to let them go, but they insisted I keep running.  I'm not sure what their objective was, but I think they were concerned I was going to pass out.  They trailed me up the hill and once I cleared the crest, they were gone.  I'll tell you one thing, my pride kicked in and I really started to pick up the pace.  I went from a shuffle to a scoot in a heart beat.  That short burst of energy hurt me in the end though.  The end to my run requires completing three hills that bring me to my home.  The first hill is rather gradual and as it levels off, it leads to a steeper hill that leads to yet another, even steeper hill.  When I came upon these hills, by the last incline, I was physically ill and my feet were barely clearing the pavement.  It was a brutal finish that left me close to tears.  I was then greeted by my daughter who asked, "Where else did you go?", in disbelief that my run took me that long.  Today was a better day, the weather was warmer and I dressed more appropriately in a running skirt/shorts.  I was feeling great, hitting my stride and totally focused on my running and then I glanced down at my propelling thighs...ARGHHH the horror!!!  All the excess action my legs were displaying was a shock to my rhythm and I nearly fell into oncoming traffic.  I can only imagine what my backside looked like..(.can we say cottage cheese in a blender???)  It's amazing that my own ability to propel myself is so repulsive, but after I settled down and recovered from the shock, that visual became my motivation and I refused to let what I look like, stall my progress.  There's enough stall in my stride as it is, but I'm working on cleaning the engine.  If you see me, please don't stop, but an encouraging honk is very welcome!

Hidden Tax

Some of us are better at hiding
~ fears
~ aspirations
~ passions
~ sorrows
~ ourselves
However...
Just because it is hidden, doesn't mean it isn't there
The mere act of concealing, is emotionally draining
The tax it commands, is a fare, far higher than its toll
It is a lifelong debt that will never be forgiven
as long as the mask remains

Somtimes Life Sucks

When your life sucks and you know it,
how do you handle the discontent?
Do you pretend it isn't there or do you confront it head on?
Pretending, merely instills a false front
while confronting it head on, disrupts the facade.
Either way, it is an unpleasant reality
that we would rather not acknowledge
Publicly or privately, life sucks sometimes

Waste Not

There are times when we think the cessation of the the present is a sad scenario
but there is always a time when finality is the best option
Holding on may fool us into thinking nothing has changed
but it's a sad misconception when we hold on past the point of expiration
If we can recognize the breakdown before it decomposes
we'll save ourselves a lot of wasted energy

Routine Adjustments

It doesn't take long to get used to a new "routine".  I can remember when I was more comfortable scratching out a blog with paper and pen, than I was entering it directly on the computer.  Now I've come full circle and I've made the adjustment, from the scratch to the tap, and it has become my, preferred method.  Tonight I found myself without access to a computer and as such, I had to revert back to the primitive method of chisel and block.  While it felt oddly familiar, it was no longer quite as satisfying to me, as it once was.
It's funny how quickly we can adapt to change.  After all, isn't life essentially all about adaptability and how smoothly we can ride a new tide.  The more readily able we are, to acclimate ourselves to the changing currents, the better able we are, to enjoy the surf. So, the next time the surf's up, don't be afraid to ride the wave, it could end up being your new "routine".

Happy Escort

Once you find happiness, 
let it be the escort you choose to accompany you everywhere

Revealing Insight

Someone once told me that she couldn't figure out if my blog entries were thought provoking or just sad....

My thought on this is:

Our darkest moments expose who we really are, in raw incandescence
and if surrendering to sadness, reveals insight, then I wouldn't want to miss it

Dredging

Suspended in silence
Words and thoughts left to billow in the wind
Fall loose
and sink
like sediment or silt to the bottom of a pond
Where they now rest
Unwanted and forgotten
until the pond is drained and we dredge the bottom for cleansing purposes

Grand Canyon

Success is only as grand as the canyon you climb out of
It is only as sure as the value you assign it
and it lasts only as long as the canyon is deep

Finding My Fifty

Approaching fifty is quite a landmark event.  I went for my annual checkup yesterday and was told I have all sorts of things to look forward to. First of all, when I actually turn fifty I'll be eligible for a shingles vaccine that will reduce my chances of getting the painful nerve disorder by 60% .  Yes!!! Happy Birthday to me, can't wait for that shot in the ass.  In addition, my metabolism will get increasingly slower and slower over the years, causing me to need less food and more exercise.  Oh goody!!!, that was just what I was hoping for.  I want to be at the gym working out a good portion of the day, that way, I won't be tempted to eat those calories I can't afford anymore. While I'm at it, calcium and vitamin-d are increasingly important for the aging adult and I was informed that I should be supplementing my diet with Viactiv and appropriate supplements to compliment my poor eating habits. Seeing as how I am lactose intolerant, surgically forced into menopause and not a candidate for estrogen supplements, they have ordered a bone density test be done.  This will indicate just how much bone loss I've experienced so far.  From this I believe they can predict exactly how much I will stoop over with each coming year, so I can alter my clothing accordingly (anyone know a talented seamstress?).  They've also ordered a cholesterol test, blood tests to check my thyroid and cell count, and I had my first EKG. I am also due for my annual mammogram, to be sure I am not growing anything other than more fat cells in my breasts. With my cancer history, I'm one of the fortunate ones that had my first colonoscopy done at age 47.  I am now required to get them done every three years because I have a redundant colon that attracts precancerous polyps, thus I am now due for my next colonoscopy.
I was also informed of the link between sugar, inflammation, heart disease and cancer.  None of this is good news for me, the sugar laden, sweet maven, with ovarian cancer and hereditary heart disease. Medical studies also show that those that live longer lives, eat 8-10 servings of fruits and vegetables per day, avoiding animal products and prepackaged foods, in addition to doing weight bearing exercise.  My question is, how much weight bearing exercise could they be doing, if they're only eating fruits and vegetables???  I used to live off chicken and power bars because I thought they were giving me the protein and nutrients I needed to maintain an active lifestyle.  Good thing my doctor straightened me out, I was clearly headed down the wrong path there.
The entire time I was at my appointment I couldn't help but feel like I was being called out.  Yes, I am guilty of enjoying sugary treats, I probably eat more processed food than I should and I am overweight, but I do not think of myself as an at risk, active older adult, but I guess that's what I am, a "fat-risk" adult.  Not exactly the new title I was hoping for, but I guess I can live with it, if it'll move over and give me more "space"!!!
Ironically, as I was walking my dog this afternoon in the woods that surround my neighborhood, I ran into some older people that were also out walking.  We stopped for a brief conversation and the entire time we were talking, I was looking at them as "elderly", but truth be told, they were probably only 10 years my senior.  As we parted ways, it occurred to me, that I was probably looking at myself, 10 years from now.  These walks would be considered my weight bearing exercise and walking would probably be all I could muster on my new diet of strictly fruits and veggies.  If this is where I'm headed, while I don't relish the meal plan, at least the accommodations are immensely better than the alternative.

 Finding My Fifty and learning to love it!

Give More

Return on investment,  matches what we put forth ~

If you're getting less than you want from life

Then give more

Face the Water

When it seems as though everyone is enjoying the beach
Be mindful of those that are struggling with the surf
They may not call for help, but the drowning is apparent if you're facing the water

One Tough Nut

Have you ever gotten a pistachio, that has no crack in it's shell?  That nut that is frustrating in it's perfectly encased packaging???  You just want to take a hammer to it and smash it open?  If you do that, then the nut is just a crushed mess of intermingled crumbs and shell.  Not very appealing, and certainly more difficult to salvage the good pieces.  Well, I'm going to liken this to a person who is hard to deal with.  You know the ones that are unpleasant, rude and extremely guarded in their interactions.  They are the ones that leave us wondering, "WTF???" Our first inclination is to snap back, giving them the same rude and impatient behavior they've given us but when you work in the customer service field, it is even more important to understand how to handle this type of person and once you get it, it's quite surprising. When you deal with all kinds of personalities and quirks, the one thing that can make a difference is, conversation.  How we phrase what we say and how we handle, the less than cordial customer can change an altercation from either bad to good, or bad to worse.  Surprisingly, it's not only what we say, but also, what we hear.  You see, everyone has a story and until we unearth that story, we will never really know where this person is coming from. By simply pausing, and being receptive to their need to talk, we become the recipient of trust, but the pause needs to be sincere.  It can not be a halt to the conversation where we put our receptors in freeze mode.  As tempting as it is to stop listening and start thinking about our own response, we need to listen without interruption from our own thoughts. This can be the leveler that makes us all more human and more approachable. It's actually one of the most rewarding aspects of working with a wide array of people. Once you catch a slight break in the shell, the eventual release is a gratifying revelation. So the next time you encounter a tough nut, as trying as it may appear, hang in there.  The hard exterior is almost always protecting a softer, more vulnerable interior that is awaiting an appropriately timed displacement.

Finding Fire

A blanket offer is merely a cover up, it's not really intended to supply anything but a superficial feeling of warmth.... It's best to find your own fire.

Teetering Dark Abyss

If we live our lives in fear, we will merely survive, living a guarded and cautious existence
If we live our lives on the edge, we may teeter into the dark abyss,and fall victim to corruption and destruction
If we live our lives with sincerity, we will find the courage and honor necessary to avert the trappings of our own downfall

Facing the fears, 
that bring us to the edge, 
of our own self destruction, 
is the only way out of our teetering dark abyss