Winter brings calm, winter can bring clarity to ones emotions and winter can be a reset for nature. Winter is beautiful, it is cold and it is frozen. Winter is for ice skates, hot chocolate and snow… until it’s not. Winter can also make you feel restless, it can confine you in small spaces and it can be a burden on your emotional setting.
Winter Madness, it comes on slowly, quietly and with resilience. It moves in like a fox beneath mounds of snow then like an avalanche it suffocates you underneath its weight. Months of solitude in which meditation can’t heal, slow in motion it takes forever to resolve. Your thoughts start to circle like a feed back loop in which the information goes no where and there you sit. Heat turned up, blankets on the couches, fires blazing and no where to go. House bound by city streets filled with ice and drivers who should have stayed home. Screaming children who too have had enough of snow days in which there is nothing to do and the soul of the sole person as she heads to drown her misery in a hot bath.
Madness into cabin fever. The wait for Spring has begun in it’s own solitude. Our eyes look to the skies for blue instead of grey, our voices beat upon the volume of echos for the weather to “Hurry Up” and get warm. We are tired of heavy coats and heavy hearts, Doubled socks and hand warmers. Bring on the rain, the wind and the glaze heralding the coming of Salvation. Small little green entities begin to pop their heads out of the ground and as we notice our mouths pick up in a smile. We tell Mother Nature to send in the needed warmth of a Spring Day and not the old chilling cold of yesterday.
Winter, madness, common colds, missing work and school due to fever and flu and then when all you want is a good movie to heal you, you get the news. Never ending dumps of drama and procrastination. A he said she said dopey dump of manure. So when in doubt turn on the oven and bake, bake bake. No reason to worry about calories when you wear 3 layers of clothing.
I will give in but I will never give up. I will let the madness move through me like a bad headache and move out when Spring comes. I can see it, I can feel it and I can endure. The Ides of March will soon be upon us and then…. we will complain about the heat, hot temperatures and no rain. Madness is our own mentality when we all know Mother Nature knows her job and we should just find something to be happy about as the seasons roll along.
Ah yes from the mouths of children we learn. From the mouths of children we address the concerns of the innocent. From the mouths of children we earn the truth of our ways.
Children see more than we do, they seem to have that “spidey” sense when it comes to a better reality than the adults do. What happens when we grow “up”?
From the mouths of children we hear a singing than softly effects our affectedness as grown”up”s. What’s up in their world is very different than “what’s up” in ours. Our venue is win or loose. Our conversations is better than. When a child climbs a mountain it’s for the present of being present, for us its who’s top dog. When will we learn that learning comes from being and not doing.
Through the mouths of children we get meaning and worth, not the caring indulgence of a larger than life attitude. Play money is for the game of monopoly and children cannot be bothered with the monopolizing of companies or countries. Children talk through laughter and conversation, they believe in equality in life and living. Can you remember a time when we just did and not done for entitlement?
Today I watched through the eyes of adult men being bullies. Men without consciousness trying to pull the wool over, the eyes of the nation. Men and women whose job it is to have a conscious, to be of equal value and all I saw was “lier lier pants on fire.” From the mouth of children I heard that’s boring please change the channel. When I tried to explain to them what was going on they were quiet for moment and then questioned why they can’t get along. They told me that if they, being the men, were in their school they’d have to do more homework or go clean up paper on the playground. They wouldn’t be allowed to have play time and the last words were “that’s not very nice.” When children talk we should listen. When they speak we could stop our own bickering and take a pause. Maybe we would be enlightened. Maybe through the minds of children we could hear the answer.
“Telling the truth is the only way.”
Peace out and don’t forget to tell someone you love them.
There is a story for all of us. A story that holds us all in attention to the story teller. The story of us, is in all of us, it’s held in the heart. The heart is all that matters, matters to me and to you, thoughts held deep within the beating heart that pumps out the blood, the core of who we are.
What is our story? Our story is the story of you, the story of me and the stories of the human race. Our story’s could be based solely on history, sometimes never making it past the years gone by. Never letting go of the future yet told. Another’s story could be in the making, always in a future sense when nothing really happens in reality, but only in ones mind. There could also be stories that unfold in the moment they appear on the scene. These are present stories, chapters created as they happen without a past or a future unfolded in the making of it. Theses are the stories of faith, these are the parables of believing in the you now, not yesterday or tomorrow. Our greatest gifts happen when our stories become real and not a reality, based on dead ends or pieces of information that could be lies. Sometimes untruths weave their way into our minds encyclopedia telling us that what we think is true, yet is it? Only you can tell anyone that. Only you can decide to erase those no longer valid stories that once were real yet no longer are.
We have changed, as a race, as a community, as people. You have changed. You do each morning you open your eyes and face another day. This is the only true story we need to carry. Reborn in every moment into a new person and a new set of circumstances that mold you into a new you. Positivity. empathy, compassion and love even for the ones we cannot identify with are all we need to carry around with us. Not the stories of old outdated history that really isn’t useful. Its time we learn a new set of words, new dictionaries and new truths. It’s now that is and not the yesterdays we all hold onto. Maybe if we paid more attention to each present moment we would see the gift that stands before us. The gift of moving forward into a better human race based on the creed of embracing each other and lifting the stories higher. We all can’t be the same, carry with us the same stories yet how awesome wold it be if our story changed all the time instead of it being the same.
What is your story? Your story is my story is their story all engaging in the present when all things happen. Let’s rewrite it together. Peace out my friends and let’s do this. Let’s stop the madness that has taken hold of us and laugh in the face of all this bologna that we seem to be listening to.
Habits are like library books with late fees attached. Habits are limited ideas that have no recall, habits are pieces of puzzles that belong to a different picture. Habits are ideas that no longer have a place in our lives. Habits can be kind, or kinda idealistic. Habits can be fun if you put a time limit on them. Habits are just habitual representations of thoughts and actions that no longer deliver the goods.
Habitual, habits leave us always longing for the rush of the first time. habits keep us guessing, hoping for the return of the best thing ever to have. Habits are the small parts of us, the longing for the bigger picture that never transcends the obvious. So why are we habitual?
If only, why did I start, I will be better tomorrow. All phrases of the many and not the few. Habits never come in with a banner telling us the truth. Habits are based in lots of little white lies. innuendos, that made us feel better for a moment. Habits hook us like fish on a line, and sometimes we don’t even like what we have caught. Now what do you do with it? Throw it back, can’t do that. Beat it over the head with a hammer, can’t do that either. Unhook the catch and just figure it out. It takes guts to leave a habit hanging. Takes initiative to be truthful and recognize the facts. Takes a bigger person to say I lied about it. Habits can be visual, they can be audible and they can be, of the soul. No habit is a good habit, it’s just a enactment of a story not you.
Habits are always habits even when they are in costume. Habits are changeable. Habits are reversible, habits can be transcended into something more. Like love, compassion and dignity.
Be not the habit, be not the false truth, be better than that. The best way to do this is always ask yourself before “doing” is this real and is this true? If not it’s a habit that you longer need. Be it about politics, be it the way you address people, be it the way you find winning over losing the best way out.
Habits are really just pieces of clothing for specific career choices that’s all. It was never meant to be baggage. Think about it
Channel surfing anyone? What’s on? What’s going on, or maybe, do I even want to know?
I’m so done with cable news, so done with our governments interpretation of a daytime soap opera. “As the World Turns” has finally turned my stomach into a volcano of do I hold it in or do I throw it all up. Anyone up for reruns of the Soprano’s?
Thank God for sports. The NHL couldn’t have timed it better with the All Star competition, something to free my mind. Friday night and I got no fight left in me so why not make some popcorn and watch some pucks fly. We all stand together for hockey, no one cares if your republican or democrat. I see a lot of brotherly love instead and you know it’s entertaining. There’s men trying to hit a puck from the grandstands and an all star woman’s game that make us stand up and cheer. I’m stuck here on this planet but I’m not stagnant when it comes to Entertainment Tonight and I thought I’d be bored.
What’s on next? Well not CNN but I could watch amazing dogs or Gordon Ramsey 24 hour makeover. I can forget about all the B.S. in the world, the rain outside and how I really don’t want to get up at 6am on a Saturday to be a sports mom. How many things can I run to in a day? Well, let me count the ways!
There’s a few of us tonight gathered in my living room. A few of us tired of the same old news, the same old day dreams, the same boring game. We are here together in a night of laughter as we watch the Friday Night Hockey fights, the pucks flying and the crowds cheering. Who needs the daily forecast of “I Don’t Give A Damn” anymore. The weather man telling me he’s going to rain on my weekend or the after Christmas bills come due. I’m free to be, I’m even free”r to determine my joy and to have faith in the tomorrows that will come. The Friday Nights that will change me as I channel surf the latest and greatest new shows.
It’s Friday people and I’m still here. So chill out, leave your problems at the door and turn on, tune in and be free to feel the wind at your feet as you fly into your joy. Peace out.
Note to myself: Making lists, writing notes, texting myself messages, is there that much to do that I can’t remember. I’m always reminding myself of something. Where am I going today? What am I suppose to get from the store, who am I? All notes written to me at some time or another are becoming useless and overwhelming. Notes, messages, reminders, be here, do that, when does it end. Although I do need to remind myself not to watch tv anymore. I think every time the “breaking news” comes on I will head to the kitchen and binge on baking cookies.
Note to myself: remind the reminder that the mind is a gift not often used anymore. The memory is a great place to store, dispose of and utilize information on a short or long term basis. I think I will send the person responsible for post it notes a nasty letter. Ask them why they created a reminder not use your own memory.
Note to myself: Tell the kids to help me remind myself. We teach our children well then when they get older we hand them a pack of post it notes to remind them that they don’t really need their memory after all. I need to be good to myself and clean out my office drawer, throw away all the scraps of paper and start to use my brain. Trying something new may work and that’s not sending myself an email either.
Note to myself: Stop writing notes, sending yourself messages. Try using your memory instead.
Note to myself, send yourself a memo to not write another note. Try baking cookies instead and that’s a story for another rainy night.
What’s in a picture? What’s in the placement of where the picture is hung? What brings up the idea that the picture is to be placed somewhere, anywhere? What is it’s purpose?
The idea of pictures is personal. It’s a reflection of our thoughts placed upon a wall. Something to gaze upon as we ponder our understanding of why the picture is? What is it? Does it represent an image? The colours spread across canvas, etched by an author who has spoken to you. It may tell you a story, a story liken to your own. It may speak to you of history, or an illusion you feel drawn to. Who are you, you may say and why are you here.
As one gazes on the beauty we are drawn into its presence. We can be nurtured by the artists edition of something he also sees. Something near to his heart or embraced also by oddity. Why did they paint it. We are drawn to paintings as we are drawn to people. Their ideas, their perspectives and their views are like the colours spread across canvas. We may place them in direct sight, holding them in the light or find a hallway that needs dressing up. Sometimes we put them in the closet so no one can find them, maybe we are ashamed, not yet ready to face them yet. Pictures are our life. Each and every thought we have is drawn on an imaginary paper. Sometimes those thoughts can be seen in open view and sometimes we choose to take our worth into darkness, hiding our truths as we hide our art.
Art is an expression of self. Art is how you view your world. Drink it in, exhale it out. Think about what our world would be without it. Think about the void there would be if you were not the artist creating the picture you do? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. See all things, all people, all life as an artistic view. Then take your eyes to it and draw with your mind a heart shape over the next one you see. Be it person, place or thing.
What’s in a smile. Today I found out that a smile is truly a smile. Sometimes laughter has our mouths open, teeth bared and joy in our hearts. Sometimes a wide grin can replace the thought of fear or possibly an indecision turning it into a remedy for a better way. Sometimes we just need to bare it all and smile in whatever way we want. Smiling foils the thief, lips pursed upwards can change an attitude in a moments time and if you giggle in return of that smile well guts can wrench and even pain can temporarily be replaced.
Today I had a crooked smile. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to show my true self. Yet somehow I don’t remember telling myself to be numb to the joy that life brings. I ate a nut, why I ate a nut I’m not sure but I ate one. Now I know nuts are good for me, healthy alternatives to other snacks and I also know that I just shouldn’t have had one. Well maybe one but not the handful I had. You see right in the middle of a joke I took a large bite of a Brazil nut and cracked my front tooth. Saturday night tooth fright. Sunday would have to be a what to do about it day and for sure I will wait until tomorrow to call the dentist. As days go so has mine. Wasn’t sure how I could pull off a hockey game and not smile, not shout, not cheer on the team I was about to see play. There were people I knew, people I didn’t and children running all about. Funny though I forgot all about my cracked front tooth.
We cheered, so did I, we smiled and so did I. I forgot I had a cracked tooth and maybe if others saw it they maybe thought I did it playing a sport. I’m always out doing something. I came home and looked in the mirror reminding myself that I looked different. Funny though how that works because I actually thought I looked ok. So the heck with a closed mouth, a sloppy sad face. Bring on the joy and the laughter. Show me the smiles and the grins. I like me whatever I look like, at any time I look alike. I’m just thankful It doesn’t hurt.
Theres a party going on outside. Through the window I can see a gathering commence. One by one they fly in, nestle down on a ledge and wait. What are they waiting for I wonder? Some drop down onto the Buddha head and perch, others find a branch of a low hanging tree and seem too look directly into the window. Am I the caterer, the seed guy? Maybe they think theres another party inside as they can see their reflection on the pane of glass. More flock down, some red, some brown, some with more black on their wings. I wish I knew bird language maybe I’d be able to find out why they are celebrating.
Someone opens the door and they all fly up in unison. they swirl around and once again landing in different places. The gathering about to commence one starts to sing and they all join in. One by one hopping closer to the window looking in to see if anyone is home. Did I feed them today?
I see the party is about to become diversified. There are 2 black squirrels dancing about to the music the birds are making. We place hidden nuts inside the cement lions on the deck and they are playing hide and seek. The birds are too busy with their own gossip they don’t seem to mind.
My mind is wandering about as I watch and write at the same time. One eye on the screen and one on the scene outside. It’s getting late and I wonder how late they will stay. Will they keep going after dark or is there such a thing as bird curfew? I guess I will find out. Bird watching is a great distraction from the normal, every day multi tasking of the mind. It makes one realize what really is important and is over thinking really a good choice.
So it’s peace out and I will continue to watch the birds until they turn out the lights and find a better place to go until the sun shines again.
Can you hear the quiet? The snow makes no sound, no noise, not a minute amount of interference. I wish that my mind could understand the concept of no sound. I find that not a lot of people get snow. Not a lot get rain either but snow is frightening, it interferes with the day, the time and the appointments. Even if you have nothing going on it takes you to the misery theatre where you dress for cold, get out the shovel and plow away in frustration. There are no snowmen, no snow angels in an adults world theres only snow finger. It’s peaceful outside. It’s the present moment when you can engage in your most inner thoughts, head down, all bundled up getting to where you are going. You can wander down memory lane, make decisions that have been put off and ignore the people whom you may run into because, “Oh sorry I didn’t see you.”
This is the second day of snow here. From what I understand the weatherman apologized. No snow was predicted here. It’s cold, the snow is fluffy and I’m always in amazement of how beautiful it is. It is clarity for my eyes, tickles for my nose and something for my shoes to kick in delight.
I got outside and took a walk through the neighbourhood. Waved at the people, even the grumpy ones. Conversed with others who didn’t even mention politics today. Everyone had the snow to complain about. Not a lot of wanderers out today. Most were running for buses or huddled in coffeeshops. Some were in the park with kids and toboggans in tow and I smiled.
What a day to get away and still be here. Now it’s time to come back to reality. I came home to a loud house, CNN on in the background, and hunger in the eyes of all I came home too. I love my life. I hope you love yours too. Whatever the weather, whatever the choices, embrace some joy and dance.