Perusing the book store recently I came across some great advice. I took a photo of it so I could remember and memorize it. I think it may serve as my new mantra.
Hope, breathe, meaningful words and love. I need more of these.
Seems direct. Easy to recall. Not always easy to do.
But I can try.
(If anyone knows who I can thank for coming up with this great list, please let me know, so I can give them credit and kudos.)
Authors. What would I do without all those books they write?
BIRDS… my favorite morning musicians.
(Photo credit: Jim Davies)
Color. Can you imagine living in a black and white world? Or missing even one color? Imagine no reds. Bizarre.
Dancing. It’s a big reason I fell in love with MSH. He’s good at it and makes me feel all dizzy and ditzy and graceful.
Erasers. Do overs. The chance to try again when I mess up. Most of the time, life is full of second chances, and thirds, and fourths. And luckily, I’m surrounded by patient people.
Friends of all flavors and styles. They have gotten me through some sticky situations, made me laugh and kept it real.
Gardening, another way I manage to stay in touch with nature, feel self- sufficient, de-stress and marvel at life’s miracles.
(Photo credit: 2fs)
Home. The one place I most want to be. It’s where I feel safe, known, cared for and accepted no matter how unreasonable I get.
Ice cream or frozen custard or gelato. I’m an equal opportunity frozen dessert imbiber. One of the pure delights of life when I was a child and still delectable as an adult.
Immediately I think of my two oldest kids, whose names start with J. There is true JOY.
That’s the first letter of my name, one I’ve always been proud of for its quirkiness, its double meaning, and its spelling. The word Kami in Japanese is 神 which means diety, God, Spirit or even force of nature. Powerful! I like it!
(Photo credit: PMillera4)
My other two kids names start with L. Ah, sweet Love. And MSH’s name starts with L, too.
Music, music, music. Every kind, loud or soft, kicky or lulling. Life without tunes is gray and stark.
Nature is my balm and cure, my link to sanity. Time spent outdoors will bring me more peace in less time than almost anything else I can do.
Oklahoma. I lived there almost five years The weather was a bit scary at times. I wasn’t a fan of the tornado warnings, but the people made up for it. They’re some of the nicest I’ve ever known. Made me feel like family.
Parents, mine specifically. Were they ever patient and long-suffering. They never gave up hope, at least not that I know of. Lucky me, lucky siblings, too.
Quiet time. Solitude. Opportunities for my mind to wander and for clarity to settle in.
(Photo credit: Khalid’s Work)
Relatives. Yup. That big spreading family bush, as a friend of one of my kids called it after visiting a family reunion. In-laws, parents, cousins, crazies, sisters, grandparents, nephews, brothers, uncles, nieces, grandbabies, seconds, twice removeds, the uncertains. What a party!
Smiles. I especially appreciate those shared smiles, similar to inside jokes or you-had-to-be-there-moments. Those smiles remind me I’m not alone, that someone “gets me” and that they understand my quirkiness and worries.
Time with my best friend. No telling how much of it there is left, so every minute, every day, feels like grace and mercy and hope rolled into one.
United States is my homeland. Call me dorky or naïve. But people keep wanting to be here, in spite of all the nonsense. We’ve got it pretty dang good and I feel blessed to be a US Citizen.
(Photo credit: james.swenson13)
Volunteering, serving, sharing, caring, paying it forward. It’s all the same package that gives back more than I put into it. Puts a song in my heart and puts my own life in perspective.
Words. Words are my favorite artistic medium, whether in writing or reading or talking or listening. Words rule!
When treasure hunting, X marks the spot where the good stuff is hiding. My life’s map is dotted with intangible, priceless treasure.
Yard. I have a yard, a space for gardening, trees, a patio table and chairs, a patch of grass and some privacy outdoors. If I want to wander out back in my PJ’s in the morning, no worries.
Zany, silly, nonsensical behavior, coupled with a few good belly laughs, makes nearly every day an adventure and a joy.
Call me strange.
Not quite the epic beginning as Moby Dick’s “Call me Ishmael.” But it will do.
No I’m not starting a novel, don’t worry. I just find myself reviewing my life lately. Which is something I usually avoid religiously, especially if I’m a bit overtired.
What I stumbled on in my revelry and self-scoriation was this bit of wisdom and light:
“A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones.” – Proverbs 17:22
Those fifteen words, strung together in the specific order they’re in, have made a world of difference for me.
(Photo credit: Brenda Anderson)
I took life so seriously, for so many years. I didn’t see much room for laughter or joking, for silliness or play. And then a series of people taught me without even trying, that there needs to be, and can be, joy amid the sorrow and laughter even when the world is pressing in.
Some days I think the only thing that gets me through is the ability to smile in spite of it all.
And some days seem filled to the brim with joy and laughter.
Stumbling on the idea of intentional happiness as a daily balm, a kind of lotion for my soul, has made all the difference.
I choose to see the positive. At least I try to.
Call me strange.
The rarity of rain in the desert brings out the oddness in some of us dry skinned, somewhat parched critters. Today’s downpour, complete with a bit of surprising lightning, reminds me of some delicious memories.
We don’t live in a rural area, but we have rural patches of neighborhoods in the landscape of our town that haven’t been incorporated into the city. This leaves wonderful one and two acre lots with farm animals, irrigation, bumpy roads without curbs, traditional on post mailboxes out front of the houses, and best of all, a sense of the history of this former farming community turned big city suburb.
(Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I used to drive my youngest daughter to fifth and sixth grade, usually taking a short stretch of county road. On rainy days the water would flow haphazardly on the edges of the road in huge muddy puddles. At the time we were driving a well-loved older model Jeep Cherokee with four-wheel drive.
Did you know if you’re going just the right speed and hit a puddle at a certain spot you’ll get a wide arching wall of water that can shoot out a good twenty feet? My daughter and I discovered that one drizzly morning.
Rainy school mornings took on a whole different feel for us. The anticipation of knowing we’d get to splash and spray our way to the school motivated us so we were usually ready to go earlier than usual. We called these mornings puddle jumping days.
Fortunately no one was ever walking the muddy shoulder of the road on rainy days. Approaching a glistening pool of brown water filled us with excitement. The sensation of tires hitting the edge of the puddle was answered with a marvelous shower and spray of water propelling outward and upward in an artistic chocolate sweep. Sometimes, depending on the depth of the puddle and the angle the tires hit the water, we’d end up covering the jeep in a deluge of mucky water. Fortunately I usually had the wipers already going due to the rain pouring down.
Does this look fun, or what? (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
We aimed for puddle after puddle all the way down the road. I’m sure any onlookers thought we were high school troublemakers raising havoc. The goats and sheep looked on in bemused silence. We left behind emptied puddles and chaos.
Ah, we laughed our way to school those days.
I still can’t resist a puddle on the side of the road, whether I’m walking or driving. I want to make a splash, soak everything in sight then look behind me at the mayhem.
Today is gonna be a great one!
The elusive qualities of clarity and focus in life drive me crazy sometimes. My priorities get squidgy and mixed up all too often. How I spend my time doesn’t always reflect what’s really important in my life.Seems like I’m always searching for balance.
I have a few reminders around my home that, if I’m paying attention, can help me with my perspective, my priorities and my balance.
Sure the photos are a bit out of focus. I find that symbolic. That’s another reminder. You see, I’m not a photographer, but I am a writer. The words say more than the picture of the words do.
If you came to my home this is what you’d be greeted with at the front door. I want everyone who comes into my home to feel welcomed. I hope there’s a sense of open arms and relaxation when you walk through the door.
I haven’t always been a demonstrative person. In fact, I still work on it. But I’ve learned the power of a sincere hug and have embraced (hahaha) the idea and practice of hugs.
One of the most important qualities a person can possess is kindness. Helping out in small ways, sharing, paying attention to those around you, trying not to be judgmental. Kindness is a thousand little things that add up to something enormous and powerful.
In a crisis where is the first place your thoughts race to? Family. The most basic instinct is to protect and love these people. And yet, sometimes, due to familiarity, selfishness, tiredness, or other reasons, they can be the ones we treat with the least amount of kindness and love.
Here’s what gets me through many a tough spot. If I can see the humor in a stupid situation then I can get through it. If I can’t then I look for something to laugh about somewhere, anywhere. A good joke, a funny story, a hilarious picture. Laughter has magical powers to melt impenetrable walls, soften hearts and lift loads. A day without laughter is a rough one.
When life gets to feeling too heavy it helps me to remember how blessed I am. Whether it’s a daily practice of writing down a few good things in my life, or a weekly practice of expressing gratitude, or daily prayers of thanks, it’s vital for me to pay attention to and acknowledge that my life is blessed beyond measure. Those blessings take on so many forms, large and small, weird and wild, immediate and occasional.
I am lucky to have tons of this in various forms in my days. I can’t even begin to list all the ways I feel loved and cared for. It’s phenomenal, it’s decadent, it’s more than one person ought to have. I hope I’m sharing as much as I’m getting. I hope you find love in abundance in your life, too.
Given all I’ve just shared, is it any wonder that I feel joy? Apparently it’s the central theme in my life. In spite of money struggles, health issues, car troubles, heaviness on my heart and worries about a zillion things, I still feel joy every single day. That is a miracle to me.
What are the words that surround your life, hang on your walls and fill your life? I’m curious to know. I might have missed a few important ones.
I used to try to catch my shadow doing something different from I was doing.
I’d avert my eyes, pretend interest in something the opposite direction from my shadow. But secretly I was watching at the periphery for suspect movement and unexplained behavior from my flatter self.
A shadow on the sidewalk (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Surely there had to be some independent quality about my shadow. How else to explain its shorter stature at some parts of the day and its odd stretching reach at others. I was too young to understand the correlation between where the sun was in the sky and what my shadow chose to do. To me it was simply a mystery, explained by something I didn’t have the ability to understand yet.
I suppose I was only five or six at the time, although I could have been older.
I was a child that desperately wanted to believe in magic and in happily ever after. I was certain that if I only believed hard enough that I could wriggle my nose just right and a candy bar would appear. I knew if I practiced long enough, holding my arms just so, and blinking my eyes with a nod and a smile that I could travel through space instantly and be somewhere new and unusual. I even figured that if I stared into a mirror long enough I’d see my friends looking back at me.
What I’ve found over the years is that all that is true. It’s just not true in the way I thought it was.
There are explanations for what I and my shadow do, but they can’t usually be explained by magic or by the sun’s movement. There’s usually a deeper reason behind the logic of my choices and the emotions of my day. I may not understand those reasons, but the explanations are there, somewhere hidden in my psyche, my history, my fears and hopes.
Although different from my youthful variety, believing, practicing, trying, studying can all bring about change. A much slower process than I wish it were, results are still tangible and distinct. Looking back over the shortened span of my past, the changes that have happened really are miraculous and amazing.
Who I am, who I’ve become, isn’t vastly different from the child me. I think the believer in magic is still there, beside me, like my shadow. She is part of who I am. In fact, the magic believer is my shadow.
There are days, weeks, months and years that I move forward in spite of all reality tells me is impossible. I keep moving along the path I set for myself, wishing, hoping, trying, studying, working. Somewhere in all that the magic formula will occur and the transformation will happen. I may not understand it. But I’ll keep on until I do or until I find a more logical, more hopeful, more intriguing path to take.
Yup, me and my shadow, we’ll just keep believing and see what happens next.
Abracadabra!
I was helping a friend out recently. For her it was a major event, something that required a ton of elbow grease or buckets of money. The money wasn’t so much there, so the man hours kicked in big time. Word went out that she needed some help and there it was. The Power of Love!
I might add she was grateful to tears for all the help, in its various manifestations.
“You don’t need money, don’t take fame
Don’t need no credit card to ride this train.”
–Huey Lewis and the News
The collective power of a few or many doing some work is an awe-inspiring thing to see in action.
Red Barn (Photo credit: Kathleen Cavalaro)
Reminds me of a barn raising. One small farmer and his family trying to get a barn built would take a season or more. But bring in the entire community, men and sons wielding saws and hammers, lifting framework, hefting beams, literally raising the roof and the thing gets built in a day. Add in the support network of children carrying water and supplies, women bringing and preparing food and there’s even time for a dance at the end of the day.
The resulting barn is the goal, but the real outcome t is a community strengthened and empowered by a common goal, by working together, by sharing. That, my friend, is the real power of love.
I know we don’t do barn raising any more, at least not around here, but there are myriad chances for sharing, working together and accomplishing a common goal.
“The power of love is a curious thing
Make a one man weep, make another man sing
Change a hawk to a little white dove
More than a feeling that’s the power of love”
The person being helped is not the only one who benefits in this equation. Not hardly!
Volunteering to help someone out can change you. The process of giving up some of your time, offering some of your skill, or using your hands in the service of someone else creates something new in you. I know it does in me.
Of course, you have to pay attention to what season in life you’re at. Maybe your offering of love is smaller and requires less time than someone else’s offering. The important part isn’t what’s given, but why it’s given.
Your sharing may not be seen by anyone, including the one you’re sharing with. That’s okay. You’re really the only one who needs to know what gift you’ve given or how you’ve helped.
Pray for someone.
Write a note of encouragement.
Leave an apple or a candy bar on a co-worker’s desk.
Do an unexpected chore or errand.
Send a happy quote by text.
Share a hug or pat someone on the shoulder.
Give a compliment.
Bake some cookies for someone who’s could use a lift.
Donate blood.
Sign up to help with a small project.
Help serve dinner at a homeless shelter.
Donate a bag or box of canned goods to a food pantry.
Google “Volunteer followed by your town or city “and stand back.
I googled “Volunteer Phoenix” and found docents, tutors, camp counselors, parks and rec needs, animal rescue, AmeriCorp, music therapy, pet therapy, educational outreach, literacy outreach, and that was just the first couple of hits.
There are always opportunities to help out. Sign up!
Say yes! Just one time, let the power of love take hold and see what happens.
“But you know what to do
When it gets hold of you
And with a little help from above
You feel the power of love
You feel the power of love
Can you feel it ?”
There’s no place like home.
“Shut the door. Not that it lets in the cold but that it lets out the cozyness.” – Mark Twain
Twain always had something to say about nearly every topic known to man. This one surprised me. It seems to indicate he wasn’t always a curmudgeon and a scalawag.
Is there anything as cozy as being able to stay indoors on a blustery day? Or as wonderful as finally throwing open windows when the warmth of spring arrives? There must be something about the flexibility of doors, allowing whatever we want in, or keeping whatever we want out.
Home, whatever its size or style, is the best place to be. It’s what we immediately think of when a catastrophe strikes. It’s where we ought to feel safest. It’s where comfort and joy can reside most abundantly.
I know I’m happiest at home. I love making the nest cozy, fluffing and straightening, baking and shining, making others feel at home and welcome.
Like Dorothy said, “There’s no place like home.”
There’s no place I’d rather be.
It’s Raining! Hooray! It’s rained so much that the park across the street, which is really a water retention basin in disguise, is filling up and almost ready for a few canoes or inflatable boats.
Here in the desert, nothing brings out the smiles faster the sound of rain. There’s no smell here more delicious than rain scented desert air. Nothing brings out the child in people around here faster than the steady drip and splatter of raindrops. It’s a joyful, snow day kind of excitement. We all become puddle jumpers, splashing with abandon, leaving the umbrella’s closed and getting drenched.
The three girls under umbrellas who let me take their photo fifteen minutes ago, are now at the park running along the edges of the newly minted “pond,” no umbrellas in sight.
Is there any movie scene more charming than Gene Kelly dancing in the rain?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D1ZYhVpdXbQ
“I’m singin’ in the rain
“Just singin’ in the rain
What a glorious feelin’
I’m happy again.
I’m laughing at clouds.
So dark up above
The sun’s in my heart
And I’m ready for love.”
Something about cloud cover and water falling from the sky puts sunshine smack dab in the middle of my heart, just like those lyrics say.
I suppose if it rained often here, it’d be less delightful.
When we lived in the Seattle area the clouds were a constant companion, rain was as common as blackberries growing on the side of the road, and humidity was the norm. Summertime occasionally let the sun peak through, and it didn’t get much warmer than the 70’s. 80’s was a heatwave there.
Having spent 15 years in this desert now I’ve learned to cherish the few rainy days we have. We open the windows and doors and let the freshness waft through the house. Here, rain is like a gem and we cherish the intermittent, the atypical, and the rare.
Let the stromy clouds chase.
Everyone from the place
Come on with the rain
I’ve a smile on my face
I walk down the lane
With a happy refrain
just singin’
singin’ in the rain… dancin’ in the rain…I’m happy again…
I’m singin’ and dancin’ in the rain…”
I suppose learning to sing or dance in stormy weather requires that we suspend reality or access the inner child in ourselves. Dancing in the rain means we’ve set aside worries and negativity, at least momentarily, in order to just enjoy that short moment. We’re not concerned about what anyone thinks about us.
It’s not always easy to do that, that’s for sure. Sometimes the emotional or psychological climate we’re in just sucks the life right out of us. Singing and dancing are the last things we feel like doing.
It’s possible that’s exactly what we need to do.
Whatever the weather is bringing you today, I hope you can find joy in it, see the beauty in it’s variety, cherish the changeableness in it. Maybe you don’t feel like dancing about it. I hope you can find that sunshine hiding out in your heart and dance anyway.
Kami's Beautiful Morning 