Words for Friends:From Jenny to Louise. Think PINK!!!

Words for Friends:From Jenny to Louise. Think PINK!!!

I call Louise, AMOR because she is pure joy and LOVE! She is one of a kind and she is my friend. True friends are like two souls in one, it's a bond built out of grace.Our friendship is like a work of art transforming everyday into something more and even more beautiful. She has been my loyal companion weather I have been happy or sad thought the years. We have been there for each other when our souls have needed a lift or we have been pushed beyond our limits, I do not recall a moment when she has not been there ride by my side or only one phone call away. We have had the great blessing to travel together to many spectacular places where we have had the fortune to share memories of a life time. As friends, we create happy moments, that is what we do.

Almost 10 years since we met .There is so much that I have learn from her, such as forgiveness, thankfulness, great attitude, gratitude, acceptance.,. So many years of deep and meaningful talks from the heart have sunk ed in me. I live my life by many of these lessons. With her by my side I have learned to be a better human being and a better Christian. She just has it in her, she makes the world around her a better and happier place.

For instance, I believe that there is really an unlock door just waiting for me to open it, just because of her, clear and simple! She had the power to change my life just by being her and she did it. She has done so much for me over the years trying to protect me from harm and danger and she keeps on blessing me day after day. Always been there for me with a smile upon her face, ready with words of encouragement and wisdom, finding ways to make people's lives more beautiful and pleasant, making sure that all our needs are met, pleasing everyone of us with her loving ways, making me laugh until I can not stop. Yes, this is my Louise, who thinks PINK!. She has so many qualities from A to Z. She is kind, generous, friendly, caring, sensitive,warm, thoughtful, helpful, compassionate,confiding, honest, cheerful, bright and true.Yes, she is not one bit of spite. Aldo, this is who she is, she is genuily a true miracle of a friend, she constantly avoids this kind of attention but today, it is her time to shine.

Once more, I am grateful to be her Sister in Christ. Even so, we spend as much time as we can together. Sadly, it's never enough, however memories of our time together lead our way.

She is my praying partner and she always will be. Everyday I look forward to those couple of minute thought the day to share with her, knowing that if we do not get to pray she will listen to my heart. With each passing day in my own special way thoughts of her put a smile on my face and I laugh as I recall her asking; "un Mojito mas por favor", so she has learned to say.

Today, I stand strong with the certainty that there is no problem, circumstance, distance or situation that will keep us away, while life has taking us each to different places. I have news for her, our friendship won't grow old, I am looking forward to grow old with her as my friend.

RAK Alert! It was Edward!

Random Act of Kindness (RAK) Alert! It was Edward!

Part of my challenge for 2011 was for me to be more aware of Random Acts of Kindness (RAK). In that spirit, I am sharing this particular story--My brother in law, Edward, recently shared that he had purchased $100 dollars worth of groceries for a family that lost their home and all their belongings in a house fire. I was very touched by that story for several reasons including the fact that he is a single parent that has had more than his share of hard times and troubles. Life has not been easy and sometimes his own choices have made things worse. But the thing that really came to mind was the knowledge that the teachings of our Grandma Grandma are really alive and well and growing through those she left behind. Grandma Grandma was one of the most charitable and kind people that I have ever met. Never could a person want or need something that she wouldn’t do everything in her power to help alleviate the pain. She was such a lovely example of sheer goodness and knowing that Edward continues to demonstrate the lessons she modeled makes me very proud. I love you Edward and I know that the family you helped appreciates you. May God bless you always, sweet boy!

Random Acts of Kindness | Browse Kindness Ideas

Random Acts of Kindness | Browse Kindness Ideas

Words for Friends: Jenny to Tammy

Words for Friends: From Jenny to Tammy

To my Tammy Friend; it’s a girl!!!

There was a point in my life when changes left me disappointed, empty, scared and without a firm belief in the goodness of people. I now realize that God was testing my faith and strength...for it was during that difficult period that Tammy walked into my life. She welcomed me with open arms and a healing heart. She was willing to give more than I could ever imagine! I have now learned that sometimes life can surprise you with the gift of a friendship like this one. At the beginning of our friendship, little did I know that her Mom, due to health issues, was slowly fading away. Tammy’s dedication, devotion, love and determination to care for her Mom before she passed away is what drew me to her. I remember thinking what a great daughter she was. She did it all, and I do mean all! It was through what I witnessed that I can assure you that she is a great daughter, sister, wife, friend and Mom to her only son, Nicholas. She has been a blessing beyond words.


Tammy never seems to be disturbed by being interrupted during her own tasks. She is loyal, cheerful, tender, loving, sweet, generous and kind; however, she is firm, direct, strong- willed and she always calls it like it is. I admire her honest ways. Much to my regret, there have been moments when I have not been available for her and for that I am sorry because she has always been there for me. I feel like I have let her down because I have but she is so special and forgiving, she always gets back to me saying, “You’re funny ". She is the kind of girl that you always want to hang out with so, we all wait patiently for her to say; “I am ready to party!” I will always wait for her call because to is too much fun to pass up.

We all dream of having a friend like Tammy. She always knows the right thing to say. Her ability to listen never ceases to amaze me; therefore, I end all of our conversations by saying, “I LOVE YOU MY FRIEND!” because I do.

I am aware of the meaningful difference that she has made in my life with all the little things that she does combined with her patience and understanding. I treasure all of our memories together and I value our friendship. She has become part of my family and I have to admit that whenever we have had an emergency this past year, the words of wisdom coming from my kids has been, “Call Tammy!"

She deserves only the best and I feel honored to be her friend. I love you, my Tammy friend!

Words for Friends: From Evelyn to Denise

Friends, I humbly invite you to share any Words for Friends that you might have. Of course, the submission should be based on 2011's theme of Generosity, Compassion, and Kindness. You may post as a comment to an existing post or send directly to me at olive13paloma@yahoo.com if you would prefer to have a separate posting.

Words for Friends: From Evelyn to Denise

This note is dedicated to my dear friend Denise for her com-

passion and generosity

Although I met Denise in college as a sister (she’s part of my family tree) of Kappa Delta Chi Sorority, it wasn’t until she moved to DC to work at the Walter Reed Medical Center that I truly got to know her.

When I discovered I was expecting a few weeks after she arrived in the area, she was absolutely “coo-coo-for coco puffs” for me. As a nurse and soon to be certified in labor and delivery, she had a plethora of human body knowledge. It was wonderful for me because throughout the pregnancy she shared fun facts about the baby and my body, “the blood supply…baby’s digestive system….the baby’s home is like…contractions are going to feel like this…” I trusted her throughout the entire time and she always had the right thing to say. One time, Denise traveled over 30 miles each way to accompany me for a special ultrasound to determine the cause of my preterm contractions. She held my hand and coached me to breath throughout the entire exam and I was so grateful to have her next to me.

I’ll never forget the day where she single handedly led a group of 10 strangers (Victor’s YMCA buddies) to bring my Craig’s list couch up 5 flights of stairs to my apartment. I think of her each time I sit on my comfy couch and feed my son.

At the end of this month she’s going to make a big move across the country to Hawaii. Words are not enough to express the excitement and orguillo (pride) I have for her courage to take a step closer to her dream. This past year has been enriched by her presence, genuine love and passion for nursing. I hope that next time I see her she’ll tell me that she’s delivered her first baby.

Words for Friends: Jenny B.

Today I have Words for my Friend,Jenny in Boots! Jenny in Boots is Venezuelan and she has such an amicable and cheerful disposition. She greets everyone with open arms, a kiss on the cheek, and kind words. She makes me laugh because she calls every one ,”Honey” and although I usually dislike being called that , coming from her it just seems so genuine. Jenny is comfortable in her skin and doesn’t buy into what others think about her. She almost always wears her favorite brown UGG boots and has her beautiful, long, black mane in a ponytail.

Once, before I knew Jenny, I was witness to something that let me know that I wanted to be her friend. You see, at that time, which was about a year ago; Jenny had just been through a very painful divorce. She and I both have sons and they happened to be playing on the same basketball team. While at one of their games, her ex husband walked in with his new "friend". Being the first time she had to see them together, it was evident that it was excruciatingly painful for her yet she was so incredibly poised and kind to them! She answered his questions and maintained her lovely smile. When the ex and the friend walked away, I noticed Jenny exhale a deep breath and she once again turned her attention to her son. I could tell that breathing was hard for her but she never skipped a beat! I remember being so very proud of her that I couldn’t help but to go up to her and give her a great big hug!

Jenny has two incredible sons that absolutely adore her. They are her very existence and she has an unequivocal love for them. She does everything she can to make sure they have a wonderful, exciting, and secure childhood. Sometimes, when their pain overwhelms her, I see that she fights her tears by breaking out a huge, captivating smile for them. She is a fighter and her spunk level grows every day. She is also a thinker and when we talk I can tell that she has spent much of her time reflecting on where she is and where she knows she is going to be. She trusts God with all her heart and she knows that He has not abandoned her -- these hard times will soon come to pass. My life has been enriched by Jenny in Boots and I hope to agree with her in prayer for many years to come!

Words for Friends: Rachel C.

In order to meet my own challenge for 2011, I am going to periodically write new posts that are centered on generosity, kindness or compassion. I am hoping that I keep my eyes open to seeing how these three themes honestly inform and better my life. For now, I am thinking that I need to be more generous with my words. My Words for Friends! Today, I have Words for Rachel, but if you would like me to have words for you, just let me know. Let me know in advance if you need me to change your name! Looking forward to hearing from you!

Words for Rachel C.: Everyone should have a Rachel in their life! Rachel is in her fifties, but she is so much fun. She has done so many intriguing things from being a missionary, to owning a 7/11, to locking herself in the bathroom just so she could read in peace. Rachel is always up for a new challenge. She cycles, she hikes, she travels, and she has a quiet yet fascinating husband who always buys her the most unique and beautiful gifts –such a grenade charm for her charm bracelet! Rachel has knack for choosing the best greeting cards! She always finds the cards that seem to speak in her voice. More importantly, Rachel has had enough life lessons to simply wave away thoughts of insecurity. While I was working on my dissertation, Rachel was excited for me EVERY SINGLE FREAKING DAY until I finished. She never let on that she was tired or bored with the topic. She taught me ways to MAKE THINGS HAPPEN! That’s how Rachel is; she never makes me feel like a loser. She exudes a sense of security with her being. She knows how to celebrate even the smallest accomplishments in life and she is forgiving enough to still be my friend even after the fiasco with Dorian who was supposed to just wax her upper lip!

(This picture is of Rachel and me just enjoying a silly moment at Nepenthe while the husbands go find us some wine!)

Generosity, compassion, and kindness...

Friends,
I challenge you to meet 2011 head on armed with generosity, compassion and kindness. Be more faithful and trusting of our Lord than you have ever been. Know that no kindness is ever wasted. Dare to be an angel of kindness to the most unsuspecting fellow being—even if they never find out it was you! May your mouth speak many words of encouragement and praise! Hoping to hear of your adventures.

A Brave and Startling Truth by Maya Angelou

Alas, my sweet friends, I am unable at this time to complete the entry regarding my visit with Dr. Maya Angelou. Many, many thoughts surround that memorable experience but I do not feel that I can accurately convey that at this particular point in time and indeed I want to do it justice. The poem below was given to me as a reading assignement from Dr. Angelou and I share it with you in hopes that you too receive its powerful message. Blessings to you always!


A Brave and Startling Truth
Maya Angelou


We, this people, on a small and lonely planet
Traveling through casual space
Past aloof stars, across the way of indifferent suns
To a destination where all signs tell us
It is possible and imperative that we learn
A brave and startling truth

And when we come to it
To the day of peacemaking
When we release our fingers
From fists of hostility
And allow the pure air to cool our palms

When we come to it
When the curtain falls on the minstrel show of hate
And faces sooted with scorn are scrubbed clean
When battlefields and coliseum
No longer rake our unique and particular sons and daughters
Up with the bruised and bloody grass
To lie in identical plots in foreign soil

When the rapacious storming of the churches
The screaming racket in the temples have ceased
When the pennants are waving gaily
When the banners of the world tremble
Stoutly in the good, clean breeze

When we come to it
When we let the rifles fall from our shoulders
And children dress their dolls in flags of truce
When land mines of death have been removed
And the aged can walk into evenings of peace
When religious ritual is not perfumed
By the incense of burning flesh
And childhood dreams are not kicked awake
By nightmares of abuse

When we come to it
Then we will confess that not the Pyramids
With their stones set in mysterious perfection
Nor the Gardens of Babylon
Hanging as eternal beauty
In our collective memory
Not the Grand Canyon
Kindled into delicious color
By Western sunsets

Nor the Danube, flowing its blue soul into Europe
Not the sacred peak of Mount Fuji
Stretching to the Rising Sun
Neither Father Amazon nor Mother Mississippi who, without favor,
Nurture all creatures in the depths and on the shores
These are not the only wonders of the world

When we come to it
We, this people, on this minuscule and kithless globe
Who reach daily for the bomb, the blade and the dagger
Yet who petition in the dark for tokens of peace
We, this people on this mote of matter
In whose mouths abide cankerous words
Which challenge our very existence
Yet out of those same mouths
Come songs of such exquisite sweetness
That the heart falters in its labor
And the body is quieted into awe

We, this people, on this small and drifting planet
Whose hands can strike with such abandon
That in a twinkling, life is sapped from the living
Yet those same hands can touch with such healing, irresistible tenderness
That the haughty neck is happy to bow
And the proud back is glad to bend
Out of such chaos, of such contradiction
We learn that we are neither devils nor divines

When we come to it
We, this people, on this wayward, floating body
Created on this earth, of this earth
Have the power to fashion for this earth
A climate where every man and every woman
Can live freely without sanctimonious piety
Without crippling fear

When we come to it
We must confess that we are the possible
We are the miraculous, the true wonder of this world
That is when, and only when
We come to it.

This poem was written and delivered in honor of the 50th anniversary of the United Nations.

Because you are my sister...

Why do we fail to tell people how much we love them? Maybe we make the ----no, no, no, I make the excuse that I am too busy. I need to do this and that, and anyway the people I love know I love them. Yes, that is the excuse I tell myself and actually almost believe. As I have matured, I really have called into question my intentions and motivations surrounding such issues. I do not want have lived this life and not shared the goodness of living it.

I recently sent my middle sister a card for her birthday and she responded in the most gracious, kind way. Her voice carried a sincerity I haven’t heard from anyone in years. It was so refreshing to hear it, but then she said something that shocked me. She said that was the first card I have ever sent her!!! I couldn’t' believe that, but a quick run down memory lane proved that statement to be true! How could I have not sent her a card before now? She is in her late thirties, what the heck have I been doing and thinking?

Well, the truth is, I have been thinking of myself and my own needs. I have placed judgment on her and the lifestyle she has chosen and I made it a point to not be part of it. I have failed to see the beauty in her being, the generosity of her spirit and the kindness of her soul.

When she told me that she placed it on her fridge so that she could see it every morning, I knew it was true and that one little act of kindness of my behalf opened her up to me in a way I haven't witnessed in years.

And so today, I noticed that she called me and I immediately called back thinking that something horrible had happened since in the past 18 years she has called maybe three times. She answered the phone and I said, “Hey, I noticed you called. What's up?" And she said, “Nothing, I called because you are my sister..."

And my heart melted...Thank you, Lord! I don't deserve the grace bestowed upon me, but I certainly appreciate it!

I miss the days of my Lemon Twist Toy...

When I was a girl ---not that I'm a boy now, getting new toys was a very rare occasion. My sister and I spent so much time taking care of our younger siblings that toys seemed like such a waste of time. She and I spent the years of our childhood being little grownups, doing grown up things with grown up responsibilities.

However, our little hometown had a little store called Lankford's Variety Store. We didn't enter the store very often because the ladies that worked there followed you around as if you were going to steal something all the time. But--every once in a while my mom had business in there and we would walk to town with her so we could at least look at the toys.

One day, for no reason at all, my mother bought us a Lemon Twist Toy. Have you ever seen one? It was a plastic, hard lemon at the end of a plastic tube that had a ring that you could slide over your foot onto your ankle. The object of the game was to twist the lemon and jump over the lemon in rapid progression. I can't really tell you the purpose of the toy as you don't really win and it doesn't take any true intellectual capacity---it mainly depends on coordination and skill.

My sister and I had to share the toy but we didn't mind because we shared everything and we had accepted that that's what sister's do--they share.

We loved that silly little toy. We would play for hours and hours. That summer went by with us playing outside trying to see which one of us could jump the lemon the most times. Of course, she always won--she has always been a better athlete. I would always claim that I needed to start over because I had messed up, or she was talking to me, or the wind was blowing, or some other made up distraction that could possibly give me another chance.

I can see her now with short little black hair and nimble little legs, jump, jump, jump, 50, 60, 70; ---she wouldn't even break a sweat. Her little legs would have ashy spots because she needed lotion but she didn't care. She would smile her cute little smile with perfect teeth or sometimes she'd even stick her tongue at me when I tried to mess her count up. Oh, we had so much fun!

My legs of course, had many bruises where I would whack myself with that stupid, ridiculous lemon. Who the heck thought of such a silly game? People can get hurt! I would be jumping with my mouth open because my buck toothed self couldn't fully close my mouth. My glasses would be slipping down, and my crazy thick, barbed wire braids would be slapping me with each jump.

Of course, I got use to losing because I lose all competitive sports, but I was always up for playing with her again the next day.

I miss the Lemon Twist Toy not because I want to whack myself with a plastic lemon, or get beat by my little sister again but because I miss my sister. I miss the days of just hanging out and laughing. I miss being able to be free to lose in front of the person who always treats me like a winner. I love her so much because she is such a good person.

I miss the moments of our innocence that we took for granted----I wish I still had a Lemon Twist toy:)

Something beautiful ...

I would be remiss not to mention the situation in Haiti. I really couldn't do so until today and even now I'm not completely sure that I can do justice to such an overwhelming topic. As image after image are displayed on my TV screen and story after story bleed through my radio, my heart becomes heavier and heavier. I don't know where to put such sadness, such grief. At first the shock would not allow me to understand how I was feeling or how I should feel. I make no claim to begin to really understand the depth of such pain and tragedy. But as I sat there trying to take in what I was witnessing, something beautiful happened.



There was an image of a lady lying on the ground with visible injuries as blood stained her shirt, face and arms. At her feet, standing over her was a man attempting to cover the woman with a blanket. He was going around her legs trying to tuck in the ends of the blanket so that she could feel some degree of comfort in her obvious state of pain.



The woman raised herself up on one elbow and felt for the man’s hand. She found it and brought his hand very slowly to her face. She held his hand to her face as she lay back down and they both began to cry.



And then I began to cry. I cried because it was beautiful.

I found that gesture profoundly beautiful because so often we underestimate the value and healing power of the human touch. A kind hand to just hold when you need it most makes the most potent drug pale in comparison.

Every day we are with people living in pain and oh, the good a kind word or soft touch could do! As much as we would like to go to Haiti and make a difference there, I do believe we can make a difference where we are---one sweet, meaningful touch at a time.

The art of handwritten messages...

My daughter loves to check the mail because she loves to receive mail with her name on it. She has even said that she is planning to write to herself just so she can get mail. I totally see her point. I fondly remember days of receiving handwritten letters or notes. I love stationary and fine writing instruments so why don't I write to others more often? There is just something about people taking the time to hand write a message that seems so romantic and sentimental. And then to receive it with your daily mail, a little spark of kind , gentle love in the midst of unsolicited fliers and bills---refreshing! One day soon, I am going to send a letter to my baby girl---she deserves it!

 Just the same, a lost art it cannot be. We must revive it ---surely someone means enough to us to send them a handwritten note. I was thinking of the pieces of handwritten correspondence I have received in the past and one piece is particularly special. It is a card I received from my mother–in-law shortly before she passed away in 2006. I remember her giving it to me and her asking me not to read it until later. At first I didn’t understand her request, but when I read it, I understood.


Sometimes we can put in writing what we cannot say out loud. Additionally, the written word remains long after the person is gone and the memory begins to fade. To see the twists and curves of one’s personal writing has a unique way of feeling a person’s presence. So lovely.

Has a handwritten message ever impacted your life?

Thank goodness it’s been so cold!

The high for today was a whopping 38 degrees and we have been duly informed that tomorrow will be all of 28 degrees. Brrr. In the past I’ve never been a fan of cold weather but I think the cold weather has exposed me to glimpses of time that I will hold dear to my heart for always.


You see, because I don’t like to be cold I have added a few extra layers of blankets to my bed, and I go to bed with my pjs, hat , long sleeve shirt, sweatshirt , and big, fat , leopard print slipper boots. Of course, my husband thinks I have lost my mind but I don’t care because I don’t like to be cold! At any rate, I get between the flannel sheets and try to get comfy with all the extra clothes so I can doze off to La-la Land (one of my favorite places). I try not to move too much because then I’ll feel cold again. So there I am, facing the ceiling with the blankets up to my nose and pillows surrounding me, just listening to rest of the family trying to get to bed. I hear running up and down the stairs, I hear my husband’s electric toothbrush, the water running as he washes his face, his yelling at our kiddos and telling them how gross they are for not brushing their teeth, the kiddos continuing to falsely claim that they did brush their teeth and that he can check their toothbrushes.

Our dog tries to stay out of the drama by wandering around with her dog tags clanking until her favorite person in the whole world (my husband) yells, “Up” to her to which she responds by jumping up on our bed so she can settle down on his pillow so she can be near him as he falls to sleep. Then my husband climbs into bed and attempts to snuggle with me which is no easy task with all the extra stuff. No later than two minutes later my son will walk in and explain to us that tomorrow for sure he will sleep in his own bed. My husband and I both yell, “NO!” but of course the boy completely ignores us as he climbs into bed with us all the time grumbling that it’s too cold to sleep in his room anyway. In the background , my teenage daughter says that she will be joining us later---to which she holds true. For around 5:00AM she will also crawl into bed with us ----so there we are my husband, my son, my daughter, my dog and me all in the same bed! AND WE ARE WARM!

And now for the glimpses of time I find most precious--- the time between five and six thirty. It is during this sweet precious time when I can’t go back to sleep that I lie their listening to them breathing in and out in deep, peaceful slumber. On my left-hand side I hear my husband breathing in deeply with thick, heavy breaths –I know he is so tired because he works so hard and he internalizes so much stress and worry. He has been through so much and he never complains. He just endures. I hear my daughter breathing light, long breaths that are uniformly measured in duration and repetition. She rarely moves during her sleep and does not like to be moved. She lies next to me on the right-hand side because she likes me to hug her till she has to get up. Then there is my son, who breathes loud, short breaths because his allergies keep him pretty congested. He moves a lot during his sleep and has been known to stick his toe right into my left nostril! He dominates the bed so we all have learned to put him on the “Cowboy -Side” which is my husband’s left-hand side. Oh, and the dog, well that spoiled little thing she stays near my husband no matter what but if we get on her nerves she will crawl under the blankets and sleep at his feet.

So I listen to them, I listen to the loud silence of the  cold house, I listen to the sounds of the occasional car go by as the world starts to wake up for another day of work and duties. I can hear the wind blowing its cold wind through the trees. I hear my blood flowing through my veins. And I whisper to God, “Thank you for this beautiful family and this beautiful life and even though I am going to have to get up soon and re-enter the world of chaos and blah, I honestly believe that life is good!”

Yup, those are times I will never forget----so, thank goodness it’s been so cold!

Can you hear the music?

On most days I take the Metro to and from work. Many mornings I will have my headphones on to either listen to an audio book or listen to songs that I have heard a thousand times. I have even worn headphones with no sound so that strangers won't be tempted to talk to me on my morning ride. When I arrive at my stop I take the escalator up to the ground level so I can start my fast paced walk to my office. Sometimes I see a young man playing a violin at the foot the escalator. This young man is a handsome, thin, African American man between 20-25 years old. He plays his instrument with his eyes closed. I see him smelling the music, just breathing in deeply, slowly and wholly. Even though everyone around him is running around like chickens with their heads cut off in the direction of the closest Starbucks, he does not move faster.




Notice that I said that I see him; I didn't say that I hear him. Why don't I hear him? One reason may be that I don’t want to take off my headphones---that would take effort. Maybe I don't want to slow down. Doesn't he know that I have to go to work? I've even thought that I shouldn't listen to his music because then I will feel obligated to drop a little donation into his violin case. That would mean that I would have to stop, take off my gloves, dig in my briefcase looking for cash that I never carry. Then I would be late to work or worse, the line would get too long at Starbucks. So no, I don't dare allow myself to enjoy his music. It would feel wrong--at least that's what I tell myself. I have denied myself the pleasure of his music. I will not hear the music. I do not accept the beautiful gift of his time and talent. WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH ME?



So fast forward to the end of my work day when I walk back to the Metro to start my trek back home. Many times I run into a different musician. This man is in his late 50's early 60’s, African American man that plays a trumpet LOUDLY! I can't help but hear his music. No one can escape his music. I think he only knows a couple of songs because there is very little variety in the playlist. The blaring, out of tune honking of his horn make me want to either run onto the escalator at full speed or if the line is too long I want to dig into my bag for any money I can possibly find because I know if I drop it into his case, he will stop playing long enough to thank me and make some kind of small talk that last long enough for the line to shorten. I asked myself why I do this---the answer: I do not want to hear the music. Or is it that I cannot hear his music? Maybe my ear is messed up and I cannot appreciate his gift. I see others stop to listen to him, and when they do I wonder what they are thinking. Are they thinking what I'm thinking? I'm thinking that I want him to stop playing---please! WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH ME?



In one case I won't listen to the music, and in the other case I don't want to listen to the music ----perhaps
I should drag my daughter’s keyboard out there and play it fearlessly and loudly and maybe then I will know what it feels like. What would I gain? I might gain courage, pity, scorn, spit, laughter, and maybe a few bucks---that I can then use to buy my next coffee at Starbucks!



Seriously, WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH ME? ---DON'T ANSWER THAT:}

Containers

January 4, 2010

So I had this dream about containers! Containers of all kinds---they are everywhere. Think about it --little babies are born and immediately placed in containers. Car seats, cribs, playpens, wagons, etc. Then we start growing and we want new boxes to put stuff in and who can walk away from a basket without wondering what we can put in it? There are cool bags, purses, wallets, frames, refrigerators, houses, journals. Let's see what other containers can we think of? Socks contain feet, eye glasses contain lenses, noses contain snot, mouths contain teeth and tongue, bodies contain intestines (and other stuff), hearts contain love, lives contain value, words contain meaning, mistakes contain lessons---you get the point. I had a dream about containers and I just feel that we don't really appreciate containers. What do you contain? What do I contain? I need to know what I contain? Is what I am containing the real thing I'm supposed to contain or do I need to empty my container and refill it something more meaningful? How do I fill my container? I fill it with the things I eat, drink, read, hear, see, the things I expose myself to such as my environment and my friends. Are my contents determining what I believe and value or is what I believe and value determining what I choose to contain?

I must say I love containers because the sheer emptiness reminds me of the blessings that are sure to fill the vacuum. Of course, sometimes I fill things with the wrong stuff, but you can't throw out the container on account of that. Of course, if you use plastic the container may retain the smell or taste of the mistake or the item that stayed in there too long. Sometimes the item leaves a stain. But the stain doesn't render the container worthless, does it?

Balance

I am looking for balance. Balance of work and home. Balance in relationships. Balance in thought. Balance while I walk.

Seriously--what is the meaning of this life?

Ok, I just heard some amazing news. A friend of mine received a report that some of her cancerous spots have reduced in size. Thank you, Lord. I admit, I was feeling very pessimistic about the treatment. As we move forward, I will continue to search for the lesson that should be learned through this experience. May 2010 bring more good news:)

December 30, 2009

Today I prepared for New Year's Eve by doing nothing. For those of you that know me , you know that I rarely do nothing. I am always doing something. I think of things to do while I am sleeping. But I planned for today to be filled with nothingness. I woke up around nine-ish. Had chocolate chip pancakes with my favorite little guy---watched Up (loved it!) , played ddr--(no good at it) and then commenced to create this blog. I am still in my pjs even though it is 7 oclock at night.



I have a funky feeling about this upcoming year.