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Posts Tagged ‘inspiration’

Between what is said and not meant, and what is meant and not said, most of love is lost. (Kahlil Gibran)

My grandmother died when she was almost

a decade younger than I am now,

old enough for us to trade places across the centuries…

If time could allow a trespasser to

break its borders. I recall how she spoke of hurts

while I remained mute. In those days

generations separated more than years,

free-speaking limited. Peers only.

 

My aunt put Grandma in her wheel chair.

She took her to the kitchen to wash her hair.

I crawled over the bed rails,

and lay next to the smells

of my grandmother’s presence.

 

The parts of her a stroke couldn’t steal.

 

 

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The probability that we may fail in the struggle ought not to deter us from the support of a cause we believe to be just. (Abraham Lincoln)

My grandson and I raked leaves last week—not long after an ice storm. Not only did he want to help, he was eager to do it. We acted as if we were an equal team.

One problem. My back is a lot older than his is. He provided the strength and flexibility of an active seven-year-old. My strength gave out within the lifespan of a mayfly. Twenty-four hours later I could barely move. May steroids and physical therapy repair the damage. Eventually.

Sometimes I feel that my eagerness to combat human injustice is too much for a team of human creatures with integrity. The word, lie, has been shouted and repeated through the air until it has become useless. Set up sides! Prepare labels! Never discuss. Never listen. Have accusations ready whether they apply or not. Divide without thinking about the division.

And yet, I have friends who disagree with my political views. They participate in humanitarian programs. Is there any chance we can begin here? Can we agree to care that law is made for the population, not population for the law.

Maybe, just maybe.

 

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The only hope of understanding [pain] comes as we align ourselves with a groaning universe committed to cycles of birth, rebirth, and the longing for a just order. (Barbara A. Holmes)

Stop. Breathe. Not a new notion when it comes to managing stress. And yet somehow, each time I expect instant results. After the pause I open my eyes. The elongated blink wasn’t long enough. The same ugliness remains. Perspective doesn’t arrive until I’m ready.

That perspective rarely comes in permanent form, never as solid, one-size-fits-all wisdom. Recently, a blessed moment came when I noticed I could help someone in an unexpected, yet simple way, By listening. Talking, yes—listening more.

Light comes. In many forms. Sometimes in kaleidoscope, beautiful-but-not-easily-recognized forms. Then again it arrives as itself, obvious in nature. The love of a child or family member. An unexpected gift. A longing for a just order that results in action.

The good exists. It hides, but it exists.

 

 

 

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“Okay, my pen was here a minute ago.”

Life is an irritation. (Anatoly Karpov, chess master)

Our tech-friendly, easy-clean, comfortable recliner couch has found a way to annoy my husband and me.

It grabs cell phones, the remote control, important papers, and occasionally a container of dental floss. It slides them into cushion crevices or onto the floor, preferably inside well-shaded, flashlight-shy areas.

As we pull out the couch to retrieve the stolen items, plugs to the mechanical parts pull out from the wall.

As we sit, the comfy cushions caress us and widen the spaces between one beige square and another. The furniture isn’t prepared for two adults and an avalanche of items operated by arthritic fingers.

How easily I get stuck in broken places and forget the beauty of what I have—forget sun and crawl into shadow. In today’s argumentative atmosphere, anxiety fills the air like dust particles.

No perfect answer. Real life refuses to fit inside a fortune cookie. It refuses to see what is good, sincere, truthful.

I think I’ll check one more time and see if I can find perspective. In a moment of meditation, in intentionally focusing on large and small examples of kindness. Balance is rarely obvious but present. I wouldn’t know what goodness and truth were if I hadn’t experienced it. Touched it. Shared it. With someone who cared about integrity.

In this incredibly imperfect world, peace to all.

 

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Human pain does not let go of its grip at one point in time. Rather, it works its way out of our consciousness over time. There is a season of sadness. A season of anger. A season of tranquility. A season of hope. (Robert Veninga)

In my Star League Chronicles stories, textbooks open into three-dimensional realities. Therefore, in my created fantasy world, history isn’t written from the point of view of the victor or patriot; it comes from the individuals who lived it. Thoroughly. In any Star League subject, the characters physically rise from the pages. And they carry on dialogue.

The real world, unfortunately, isn’t always that honest.

However, when my husband and I visited Berlin, we touched the places where death and destruction took place. Both the German government and citizens admit the past, what they learned from it. I chose to absorb both the beauty and the pain—not to live in a past I never experienced—but to acknowledge truth.

Today, as I stand, walk, and drive in sunshine I ask the brightness to add perspective to the darkness that fills the current political scene. Recent events trigger both sadness and anger. They threaten possibilities of hope and tranquility.

Blue sky touches the horizon. An intangible space. It can’t be owned. I see it, know the blue comes from the sun’s rays refracted through the earth’s atmosphere. The blue fades. Gray takes its place.

Comments on the horrors of today, abound. In an endless loop. Simple survivor skills? Writing helps me, so do my husband’s loving backrubs, as well as a few minutes messaging a friend who happens to be less than half my age.


Age and time. Perhaps they are no longer issues. May I seek integrity and the ability to get up again. And again. To all those who value truth, let’s live what we want to see—even if no one seems to follow. Yet. No. The sky isn’t falling. It just feels that way.

Coping skills? Sharing accepted. And thanks.

 

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Do not measure your loss by itself; if you do, it will seem intolerable; but if you will take all human affairs into account you will find that some comfort is to be derived from them.  (Saint Basil)

This poem has been in my file since my oldest granddaughter has been small. Yes, I choose the positive. However, it is a choice, not a feeling. An uphill climb is a sweaty uphill climb. Lately, I notice a lot of jagged rocks. Peace to all. Eventually.

EXPERIENCE

It contains puzzle parts made of fear, pain,

celebration, growth, loss, gain. The parts leak

inside, swell the pores and form leathery ripples

as time passes. They are never fully decoded.

 

I recall the last warmth of a friend’s embrace.

Buried now, she can no longer speak in earth terms.

I read the notice too late and never said goodbye.

Experience can’t fit inside a single life time.

 

Over generations, it mingles, swells. I watch

my granddaughter play. And pray she sees

more joy than sorrow.

Time embraces all, teaches few, keeps no one.

 

Love makes experience worthwhile.

I kneel, bless my next generation, and join

my first grandchild as she discovers the world,

one bright colored block at a time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass…It’s about learning to dance in the rain. (Vivian Greene)

Today is a Friday in September 2018. For the moment, I celebrate public internet before stepping into a previous century world. No land line, internet, or television thanks to a thunderstorm. Lightning struck the roof of an apartment building less than a block away.

Life changes in a flash. My writing and communication with readers and friends is contingent upon the wireless world. And yet—I am privileged. Dark skies can predict floods as well as a flood of what-ifs. I don’t need to stare into the gloom.

Now, in this almost silent moment, I pause to breathe, consider where I can give more and complain less. Dance in the rain, and then run for shelter when the lightning begins.

Peace, upon all.

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