Monthly Archives: November 2012

What Not to Say: Six Useless Phrases

Posted on November 8, 2012 by Kami
Dog Hat / Space Coast Florida

(Photo credit: Rusty Clark)

Stress does something to the words that sometimes escape through our lips.  One of the most stressful experiences I’ve ever encountered is parenting, from both sides of the aisle. You gotta admit, parents say some ridiculous things at times.  In the interest of full disclosure, I’m pretty sure I’ve said most of these things at least once if not more.

“Don’t make me pull this car over!”

To a kid fully embroiled in “he touched me” argument strapped into the back seat of the car, this statement is just so much flotsam whizzing past the window.  What the parent really means to say is, “If I hear the two of you whine or argue one more word I’m going to lose my mind.”  A threat to stop the car feels more powerful, but is really a losing proposition.  You can’t really leave the kids on the side of the road, as tempting as it sound.  And pulling over is only helpful if you can stomp into the woods alone, let loose a few guttural primal screams, kick some really big trees and hurl some large boulders down the side of a cliff.  Then you’d be able to return to the car and continue to your destination safely and with less insanity boiling over.

“This is going to hurt me more than it hurts you.”

Actually this one has some truth to it if the punishment is grounding.  Taking away a child’s ability to leave the house, or do regular activities, leaves the parent still dealing with the kid days or weeks or months after the infraction.  For some parents, enforcing rules is a painful process as it ruins their popularity standing with their kids.  Who wants the moniker of the no-fun parent?  You do, if you want to emerge from the parenting experience with your sanity intact. Repeat after me: Parenting is not a popularity contest.

“I’ll give you something to cry about!”

Crying is not an inappropriate behavior.  It’s a weird form of communication that very few people have been able to translate correctly.  Sure crying is annoying sometimes, and can interrupt your day, and might even go on for hours. Getting angry about it, threatening more reasons for tears is really counter productive.  You might want to reconsider before letting this one slip through your lips.  I know, I know, it’s an instinctive reaction based on years and years of hearing your own parents say those exact same words. Fight the urge, be creative, invent a new phrase your children can mock you with in thirty years.

“If your friends jumped off a cliff would you jump too?”

Most kids would answer with a resounding “Oh, yeah, baby!” Whatever their friends are doing is always more fun than anything else you could dangle in front of them.  Even if it’s taking out the garbage at their friend’s house.  The point is to be with the friend, always, forever, no matter what.

“What were you thinking?”

They weren’t thinking.  They were rolling on pure emotion, acting on impulse, going with the flow, riding the wave of adrenaline, sucked into the vortex of peer pressure, rocketing through the wormhole of hormones.  (See cliff jumping above.) Logic doesn’t really enter into the equation.  Actually, there really isn’t an equation other than the following: “I want it = I get it.”

“What am I going to do with you?”

“Take me out for ice cream, drive me and my friends to the mall, do my chores for me.”  I’m certain most children have plenty of ready answers to that question.  I have heard of the exceptional child with the ability to think up appropriate consequences for an inappropriate behavior, but that is a rare and gifted child with blessed parents.  The whole balancing act of crime and punishment is resting squarely on the shoulders of the grownup.  Sorry to be the one to break that to you.

Brave Souls, Intrepid Warriors

It’s a brave soul who takes on parenting. No owner’s manual, no instruction booklet, lots of well-meaning and misguided advice dispensed freely. Here’s my “two cents worth.”

Hang in there.  Laugh as much as possible.  Hug that kid every chance you get. And never, never, ever give up.

Categories: Humor, parenting | Tags: , , , | 6 Comments

Dew Drop In

Posted on November 7, 2012 by Kami
Dew drops

Dew drops (Photo credit: Moyan Brenn)

Dew is on the grass today.

“Yeah, so what?” you might say.

But in a desert climate, dew is a glorious thing.  It means visible water.  Dew means moisture in the air.  Dew is life-giving around this part of the country.

At a sharp, early angle, the morning sunlight on the dew gives it a frost like glow of whiteness.  A kid on his way to the bus stop short cuts through the park and leaves a dark trail of footsteps through the dew, clearer than a path through snow.   His shoes will be sodden through most of the morning.

The sun rises higher, the shadows shorten, the dew begins to evaporate.

Am I silly to wax poetic about droplets of water on grass?  Maybe.  Yet there is nothing so miraculous as those tiny drops of hydrogen and oxygen molecules in that perfect recipe.  In one drop an entire rainbow resides.

A smattering of water from the sky, at just the right season of the year, can prompt thousands of smaller-than-a-dime frogs to emerge from their yearlong underground slumber.  A miniature migration of froglets push their way from one puddle to another puddle for reasons unknown to us mere mortals.  And then, the rain subsides, and the little hoppers migrate underground again.  All that from a bit of rain.

The desert literally blossoms after a rain.  Cacti drink deeply and plump up., agave plants send growths skyward,  blooms appear on spiny plants, flowers pop up out of cracks and crevices and bare patches.  It’s the desert giving out a visual sigh.

The part of the desert I live in has been temporarily reclaimed from the typical scrub and scrap and dust by canals, irrigation, concrete, electricity, pavement, and row upon row of almost identical houses.  If the water went away, so would the people, like so many flowers after the desert rain.

I suppose that’s true of any area of civilization.  Water is the one critical ingredient for success.  Just those two simple hydrogen molecules combined with an oxygen molecule are all that keep it together for us.

My wonder and awe at the dew on the grass doesn’t seem so odd I think.  Perhaps the dew deserves an homage, a song in its honor, a statue in some park, at the very least a day on the calendar to celebrate its immense power.

Imagine that.  We’d all go around saying, “Happy Dew Day! or “Happy Water Day!“  Then we’d all drink a glass of water in honor of the lowly, mighty water droplet.   Just briefly, once a year, we’d recognize how our life teeters on the rim of a cup, acknowledge out reliance on water and honor the idea that we thrive in its presence.

I hope you notice and enjoy the water in your life today.

Raise a glass, and then drink up.

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Categories: Outdoors | Tags: , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Up in the Air

Posted on November 6, 2012 by Kami

English: Flag of the United States on the .

It’s Gratituesday!  Today I am feeling an excitement I can’t quite name.  There’s an exhilaration and vibrancy in the air.  Can you feel it too?  Or is it simply me?

This is like that churning sensation, antsy feet, jumping about while waiting in line for a roller coaster you’ve never ridden feeling.  An electrical charge seems to pulse all around you. Something like that zings through the air today.

A job interview after ages of waiting, stomach flipping with nervous energy, feels this way. Today my stomach is an Olympic gymnast and I am mid-flight in a backflip waiting to stick the landing, arms held aloft and confident.

The first day back at school after summer break, new kids, new teacher, new hopes, a thrill of the unknown, the possibilities hovering on the edge. I look over the precipice with wonder today.

A box wrapped in shiny foil paper, bound with a glittering ribbon, knotted with a flourish and a bow, awaits opening.  Soon now, very soon, the gift will be unwrapped and we will all see what’s inside.

I am grateful for the anticipation of the gift, the possibilities of a new school year, the promise in a job interview, the potential energy of a carnival ride.

I am grateful for this singular day of each voice joining in the song of America. I sit on the edge of my seat, listening, waiting, wondering.

Categories: Gratituesday | Tags: , , , , , , | 2 Comments

The Solace and Balm of Nature’s Arms

Posted on November 5, 2012 by Kami

I awoke with the words of Wordsworth in my head.  That doesn’t normally happen to me.  Must have something to do with the lovely way I spent my weekend. Must also be connected to the sad fact of returning to reality.

A few hours northeast of Phoenix is what’s known as the High Country or the Mogollon Rim (pronounced  muggy own). Here are a few photographic attempts at capturing the stunning art that is the natural world.

The lines of Wordsworth’s poem accompany the photos.  Granted his poem is about the sea, but the sentiment, “the world is too much with us” fits the reason behind why I go to the mountain, why I seek out the natural world, why I feel whole after a walk among growing things.  Think of his words as background music.

The world is too much with us; late and soon,

Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;

Little we see in Nature that is ours;

We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!  This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon,

The winds that will be howling at all hours,  And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers,

For this, for everything, we are out of tune;  It moves us not.

–Great God! I’d rather be  A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;

So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,  Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;

Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;  Or hear old Triton blow his wreathèd horn.

-Wordsworth

Categories: Outdoors | Tags: , , , , , | 3 Comments

A Moment, and Everything After

Posted on November 4, 2012 by Kami

Heartbreak and Loss seldom give warning. Suddenly, they are at the door, unwelcome visitors, suitcases in hand, prepared to stay for an unrelenting visit.

At times it feels as if they’ve moved in, become part of the hum of the household, except the household no longer hums.  It jolts, and bumps, and bangs and hurts in unimaginable ways.

Fortunately, blessedly, thankfully, other visitors appear with food for the body when the soul has lost its appetite for life.

Others bring gifts of artistic wonder, of remembering, of photographs, of hugs and tears and attempts at understanding. There are those who bring laughter, some who bring laps for holding the smallest confused hearts. Some bring letters, which serve as a bulwark to support weak knees and helpless hands.

Gifts come in the form of laundered clothes, folded clean towels, floors swept, dishes done, garbage emptied, yard work finished.

Come on down and see us at the Old 193...

(Photo credit: sidehike)

Remembrances appear hanging from beautiful chains around the necks of those whose loss is unspeakable.  A photo, a talisman hanging beside the broken heart, a silver healing balm when healing seems impossible.

Music wraps itself around the injured, broken souls as a liniment, an ointment, a salve, first oil pressed from olives. The warmth of the song soothes and succors, lifts and lightens, cushions and comforts.

Love also appears at the door, and takes up residence. Love is attached to every gift, entwined in every condolence.  Love is woven in every hug. Love is wrapped among every sigh, and is the salt in every shared tear.

Love is the only real gift.

Because Love is the only solace.

Categories: Death, Love | Tags: , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Twenty Years From Now: A Letter to Myself

Posted on November 3, 2012 by Kami

Dear Me,

I’m writing this letter to you today to let you know how far you have come in the past twenty years.  I know at this point in your life you’ll be looking back and flailing yourself with all your perceived shortcomings, missed opportunities, poor choices and heartaches.

Knowing this about you, I’m writing to remind you that you made two decisions that impacted your life and have made you the person you are. I’m certain you haven’t forgotten those decisions, because they shaped you in ways no other choices could have done.  To clarify and to help you feel better about where you’re at right now, I’m writing to remind you that these were your conscious choices.  You knew, at least to a small degree, what direction choosing such things would require.

The sacrifices have been worth it.  Whatever fell to the sidelines, whatever was left undone was as it needed to be.  It was part of the design you set for yourself when you put your feet on this path you now find yourself on.

The first decision you made was to choose people over things.

One of my favorite people!

Do you remember when you made that decision?  Probably not, it was a process, not a one-time thing.  You had found, through helping a few people along the way, in spite of how busy you were as a young mom, as a mom with teens, as a working mom, that reaching out and helping someone, even at the cost of something you wanted, was always the better choice.  The relief on another’s face was a balm in your own wounds.  The joy in a child’s eyes reflected back into your eyes.  The time sacrificed, again and again, always felt like the best expenditure of that time.

You were honest with yourself about the sacrifices that decision required.  Sometimes they hurt.  Sometimes giving was the last thing you wanted to do, but it had become who you were.  The tricky part, do you remember, was finding that tipping point when it was time to regroup, fill your bucket, shore up your own reserves, care for your tender worn spots, so that you could once again care for others.

That balance was not an easy thing to maintain.  The pendulum often swung wide to either side, excessive  giving to others, or a kind of self-indulgent, inward cocooning.  But you have worked at achieving a rhythm to your giving, your sharing, your service, and your self-care.  Now you can look back on your life of generosity and selflessness.  You should feel a sense of, not pride, no, not that, but of integrity.  You stuck to your decision to choose people first.

The other life decision you made seemed almost contradictory to the first one.  But, by time you read this letter, you will have made the two into proper companions, a perfect marriage of ideals. This decision, too, required sacrifices.  You set aside a sense of security and safety for a life of openness and sharing and of uncertainty.

the written word

the written word (Photo credit: paloetic)

You chose words.

That was a very deliberate decision on a very specific day.  You decided to honor that spark of creativity, intelligence and joy that burned so bright from your early childhood.

You chose to be the writer you wanted to be.  You chose words as your paint, words as your clay, words as your film, words as your musical notes.  Words gave life to all you saw, thought, felt, and experienced. Then you shared those precious words in as many ways as you could think of.

The people you loved will have known to their very bones, that you loved them.  You will have shown it, you will have said it.

Actions and words showed the world and yourself who you are and were.  Feel secure and sure in the way you have used your life.  It was well spent.

Regrets?  You probably have many.  But not about these two decisions.

People.

Words.

The best choices you ever made.

All my love,

Me

Categories: Relationships, Writing | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Living Out Loud

Posted on November 2, 2012 by Kami

I’ve often wondered what would happen if I just said what was really on my mind. Probably some major natural disaster, a combination hurricane/flood/earthquake/fire named Kami.  Okay, maybe I’m being a little dramatic.  Just a little though.

I know people who do speak their mind, with very little filter, in some instances with no filter at all, ever.  People are either afraid of them, avoid them, or talk poorly about them behind their back.  I’d prefer none of the above.

Not saying what’s on your mind, not being direct can have some serious consequences.  Beating around the bush is great if you’re a hunter looking for that lost quarry, but it’s not such a great thing if you’re trying to communicate with someone.

Is it possible to say, “THIS is what I want,” or “THIS is how I feel” without the listener misunderstanding or being offended by the directness?

Blackboards

Somewhere along the way I learned, or chose, to say things in a roundabout way.  The classic, “where do you want to go to dinner?” question is always answered with a “I don’t know, where do you want to go to dinner?”  That happens even if I know exactly what I want to eat and where I can find that meal.  That happens with every little thing that comes up.  Why would anyone do that? Overly concerned about how the other person feels?  Poor self-esteem?  Group dynamics?  A warped sense of self?  I don’t know.

I thought by now I’d have some of that sorted out.

Writing

Writing.

Maybe that’s where the writing thing in me comes from.  Writing is the way I say all those unspoken things.  My best writing, in my opinion, is when I simply let my hands do the work.  There’s no filter, no external voices saying, “you can’t say that!” or “what will people say?”  It’s just me and the pen and paper.  Simply me and the computer screen.

It’s just me.

Maybe that’s it.  When I’m writing, I’m really only trying to communicate with myself.

That’s how it started out when I was young.  My head was swirling with emotion and input from the weird world of teenage horrors.  Writing it down felt like the only way to make sense of everything.

I could pour out all these thoughts on to the paper like so much sand and dirt and grit caught in my shoes from walking.  Then later, I could look at the evidence, investigate the different kinds of detritus that made walking hurt, or uncomfortable or awkward.  A chunk of rock would explain a blister; sand caught in my toes would explain the itchy dryness.

Likewise, having my guts spilled out in ink or pencil on the page let me think in a slow methodical way, about what it all meant and how I would act or react to it all.

Sometimes my only conclusion was relief to not have all that stuff in my shoes, all that stuff in my head.

Have you ever felt like there was so much stuff in your head it might seep out, or ooze, or explode or leak?  That you might, actually, truly, be going crazy?  I did.  Sometimes, I still do.

I think some people cry and that takes care of that pent-up emotion.  Some people vent by running or being angry out loud. Some saturate themselves with sports, or television or volunteer work, or any of a thousand things.  Some simply say what’s on their mind, out loud and unfettered.  What an amazing thing to be able to do!

Typewriter

Me?  I simply write.

I write it all down.  And sometimes, I let someone read it.

Will they think I’m crazy?  Will they avoid me in the grocery store? Will they whisper behind my back?

Apparently, that doesn’t matter to me anymore, because here it is, my writing, being presented on a daily basis to the world, or to the twenty to forty people who “hit” my blog.

I can’t think too much about who reads my words and by extension, reads my soul, reads my mind.

It’s a frightening, thrilling ride.

This living out loud thing might be changing who I am.

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Categories: Writing | Tags: , , , , , | 7 Comments

Top Ten Reasons November is the Best Month Ever

Posted on November 1, 2012 by Kami

A Dust Bowl storm approaches Stratford, Texas ...

10. Snowbirds convene for the longest flashmob ever staged.  What?  You didn’t know they  were the original inventors of the flashmob?  Wait for it…wait for it…wait for it….keep waiting.  Gotta love those retirees!  They have such perspective, incredible wisdom and lots of cash that flows into our local economy.  There are many reasons they are known as the greatest generation.

9. Perfect weather.  Well, it is here in Phoenix.  Not too hot, not too cold.  No apocalyptic dust storms, no skies opening up with a year’s worth of rain in one hour, no searing I-can’t-touch-the-steering-wheel heat. Mmmmm.  Ahhhhhh. I am in heaven!

8. NaNoWriMo  National Novel Writing Month.  It’s fun to watch and read about various writers’ efforts to write an entire novel in one month.  Oh, the obsession, the angst, the insanity, the desperation! Sounds so fun!  Maybe someday I’ll try it.  Or not. For now, my novel’s characters are all in a drug-induced stupor until the holidays are done and over with in January.  Believe me, it’s for the best.

7. Water returns to the local Riparian Preserve, bird sightings increase.  I start bringing my binoculars on walks so I can get a better view of all those incredible birds. Where do you think all those northern species hang out while winter cold rages elsewhere?

6. My favorite cousin is coming for a visit and a 10K race.  You should be excited too!  She’s awesome, cool, smart, a killer Scrabble player, very funny, athletic, a book reader, a water engineer, a biker, hiker, runner and she’s single. Just saying.

Arizona Sunrise

Sun rises at it’s scheduled time, once again.

5. Daylight savings time ends for six months, give or take an hour. I don’t have to do complex math calculations before I make a phone call out-of-state.  Arizona doesn’t participate in this odd hoax on time manipulation.  We’re waiting for actual time warp machines to be available at Walmart.

4. AnClOuGaSoMo. Not familiar with this one? Annual Clean Out the Garage Sometime Month. Also known in the Tilby house as Pack Rat Rearrangment Day or I-wish-I-lived-anywhere-but-in-this-household day. Once we’ve survived the self punishment of organizing all our junk it’s a nice feeling to be able to find things we didn’t know we owned but might want some day.

3. Gratitude, thankful status posts and happy lists abound.  Nothing wrong with a little optimism, some paying attention to the positive in our lives. Some people set a goal to post something they’re grateful for as a Facebook status every day of the month.  We are a very blessed group of people and ought to acknowledge that a little more often.

2. The Presidential Election will be over with – for a couple of months anyway. Hopefully, (cross your fingers) there are no hanging chads or other such anomalies.

1. Pie.  ‘Nuff said.

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Categories: Humor | Tags: , , , , , , | 6 Comments

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