journal

musings and ponderings…

August 10, 2015

her little hand

i saw them get on the train.
noticed them.
watched them.

that ‘little kid’ look wasn’t there.
they looked like they had clouds over their faces.
two little girls and a man.
i’m assuming sisters and a dad.
they sat.
he stood.
his back to them.

i watched them.
wondering if it was just a hard morning,
or a hard life.
hoping it was the morning and not every day life.

we got off at the same stop.
and they headed down the stairs along
with a whole herd of people.

earlier in the day we had been talkin’ about how
there’s this kinda unwritten rule about standing
to the right on escalators and letting people walk
by on the left. same kinda went for stairs.
go slow on the right. fast on the left.

i had no idea if every city/place had this or
was it just around here. i was so used to it, i figured
it was a world wide thing.

and now as we descended, and the herds did the
different lanes,

this tiny little girl got left behind. her dad
and her sister headin’ down the stairs at their
own speeds.

this tiny little girl was in the fast lane of
a herd of people goin’ around her. she saw lots
of legs, big steps she had to take two feet at a time
and a dad disappearing down the stairs.

she started crying and saying ‘wait for me.’
but he couldn’t hear her.
he was too far ahead.

i heard her.
and moved next to her.
reached out my hand.

she took it so quickly it surprised me.
and she held on tight.
wow.
her hand felt so tiny.
and the tightness of her grip was
breaking my heart.

clogging up the fast lane,
i set myself right in the middle of everything
and made room for her.

we went down one step at a time as i told her that
he was waiting for her at the bottom and she was doin’
a great job.

she made it down and ran to him.

his reaction pretty much convinced me it’s not just
a hard morning. it’s a hard life.

the inability i have to do anything about that
has been on my mind ever since.

the challenge of being in this world and staying open
again confuses me.

and i can’t stop feeling her little hand.

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August 7, 2015

kindness

oh those simple acts of kindness…
we really don’t know how much they can mean
sometimes, do we?

i had someone do me an act of kindness today.
and i gotta say, i needed it.

there are times i feel like i try really hard
and yet i feel like i’m runnin’ in place.
weary can set in.
and when weary comes in for me,
i get a bit lost.

i have sorta been swayin’ in between lost and
tryin’ hard lately.
over and over.
just a back and forth of the two.

and there have been colors that i’ve been
holdin’ on to.

colors that keep coming up and comforting me.

i’ve been drawn to soft blues and whites for
days now and oddly enough, the
kindness shown me today came in those colors.

i hadn’t consciously realized that i had been
going to these colors for comfort lately.
i didn’t know i did that.

i mean seriously, who goes to colors?
maybe lots of us.
and maybe we don’t even know it.

the colors of the sky.
the softness of them.
the gentle feel they give.

that’s been whispering to me.
and today kindness got whispered thru colors.

how totally cool is that?!

feelin’ the beauty of reaching our hands out.
feelin’ the gratitude for those hands.

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August 6, 2015

from my yellow pad of paper…

paper1

we can lose it when we’re small-
our understanding of our light.
we can take their faults
and weaknesses
and make them ours.
we can live a lifetime under shadows
of other’s delusions
and mistake them for our own beliefs.
and then!
we can wake up and remember.
we can walk thru anger
and forgiveness
to a place where past is past
and who we really are is the now –
standing in the beauty that we always were.
and laughing in the glory of the journey.

August 5, 2015

an odd game of peek-a-boo

the morning woke gently.
i know.
i saw it.
i watched it.
i soaked it in like a thirsty sponge.
standing at the end of my driveway,
i drank and drank and drank pink sky.
i drank until there was no more pink.
and the gentleness faded into the morning light.

i turned and walked back into my house.
i noticed the act of closing the door.
i didn’t want to close out the gentle.
and i felt like i was.

i went about my stuff.
mopped the floor, cleaned the house,
then took the laundry to hang out back.

as i hung the last of it, i glanced at my roof.
oh man.
the gutters were stuffed with leaves.
just stuffed.
‘you can’t ignore them they’re so stuffed’ stuffed.

and then i noticed.
just above the roof.

the sky.
still gentle in its pajamas of soft blues and whites.

i really really didn’t want to clean out the gutters.
my back hurt, my arms weren’t workin’ right.
i was totally feeling achy and old. and getting
the ladder out and cleaning the gutters was not on my
list of what i wanted to do.

then i saw the sky.

hmmmm…..

it WOULD take me closer to that softness, i thought.

and so i got the ladder.
and i began.

what a mixture.
the gutters were stuffed gross.
i put my hand (gloved, thank goodness) into an ants nest.
ugh.
i scattered ants, leaves and gunk.

and then i’d glance at the sky.
gentle would take over.

i’d go down the ladder,
move it,
feel covered in sweat,
wonder what the deal was with the yappy dog i kept hearing,
head back up the ladder,
and then see the sky as i got up close to the roof.
all thoughts would stop.
and i’d hear something –

‘YES? I’M RIGHT HERE.’

it was god.
big and boomy.
yet soft and gentle.

then i’d get distracted in gunk and sweat.
i’d focus on what i was doin’.
i’d go down the ladder.
and up the ladder.
and then i’d hear/see ‘YES? I’M RIGHT HERE.’

and each time i realized god was there,
i’d fill with the gentleness that was offered.
each time i could feel it so soft and tender.

over and over again.
god and i played a weird sorta peek-a-boo.

over and over again i soaked up god thru the sky.

i’m back in the house now.
but stayin’ near a window.
thinking i want to play this game all day long.

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August 4, 2015

movin’ our clocks

we were sharin’ the office here together last week.
my guy and me.
both working.
on very different jobs.

he’s an engineer.
and i’m….well….you know……
a creative.

tryin’ to concentrate at my desk while he was inches
away at his in a very focused conversation, i couldn’t
help but hear the coolest phrase. my eyes got big and
i smiled. and then i jotted it down.

it’s on a sticky note at my desk here because i loved
it so much. i loved how he said it in the midst of this
big technical talk that i couldn’t understand at all.
and i loved how it was technical to him and whoever he
was talking to – but totally not to me. i loved how
he said it like he had no idea how cool it was to say.

‘you move your clock off of reality.’

that’s what he said.

yeah.
weird, huh?

you move your clock off of reality.

i still haven’t asked him what he meant.
i might sometime.
but then again, i might not.
cause i think i want to keep it for myself.
make it my own meaning.

i like the idea that sometimes we just move our clock
and just take a break from it all.
i like that idea a lot.

we just move our clock off.
of reality.
and take a tiny little break.

thinking i may just do that this afternoon…..

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August 3, 2015

this ain’t my sinkhole baby. what the heck am i doin’ here?!

man.
ever feel like you’ve been in some darn sinkhole of
other people’s issues? and you’ve just been stuck
there tryin’ to figure out what’s goin’ on, how to
be there for them, or how to maintain some sense of
normalcy with them?

frustration happens and you sink a little more.
you get some sort of break and the light looks like
it’s coming out and you rise up, only to sink again
when someone’s moodiness pours on thru the opening.

i’ve been double whammied lately.
and i think i’ve hit my limit.
i really do.

i mean, it’s one thing when it’s a sinkhole of your
OWN issues and stuff…….
but when it’s not even YOURS….
well, then, what the heck are you doin’ in there?

so i got on the treadmill this morning.
ahhhhhhhhhhh not only did i need to be there to untangle
some stuff in my head, i needed to be there to claim something
back in myself. and it felt good.

i imagined what i wanted to say to these people who i feel
are really missing out right now.

it came easy.
oh i can give advice to other people easily.
then toss it in imaginary conversations,
and it just flows out.

but i’ve learned a little trick.
then i toss it back on me.
see if it works for me as well.

bingo!

it goes something like this –
pretty basic stuff –
but maybe something we could all use a bit of a reminder with –

this is it.
your life.
and spose this was the last week of it.
would you really want to live it like this?
then look at that answer and adjust what needs adjusting.

i found what needs adjusting
and i’m workin’ on fixin’ that right now.
first thing on the list –
climb out of this sinkhole of other people’s creation
and go play.

that seems to work nicely with letting other people deal
with their own stuff, keeping my hands off tryin’ to fix
life for everyone, and just focusing on what i can do
in my own life for me. seems like a good start.

off to it!

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July 31, 2015

an unfinished thought

okay, it’s not really a thought yet.
it’s the figuring out of a thought.
or more like the start of the figuring out…

a question always on my mind is how to hold the all?
how the heck do you hold the all without your knees buckling
and your crumbling to the ground?

always a ponder for me.

this morning, as i was having coffee with friends,
one friend said some stuff that got me thinking.
there was something about simplifying a life situation into a
black and white happening instead of seeing it for the gray it was.
and then something else about the sadness she felt over it –
she realized it was a fluid sadness.

the two things kinda made me stop and realize i could throw
these into the ‘figuring out how to hold the all’ bucket.

(i carry a big slop bucket around with all these random thoughts
in it, figuring sooner or later i’ll know how they fit into the
pondering i’m doing.)

maybe it’s when things are fluid that i can sit with ‘the all’ more.
maybe it’s when they’re not fluid that things get clogged up.
makes sense in a visual sorta way.

so what’s ‘not fluid’ mean?
well, thinking things in black and white seems not fluid to me.
i don’t know why. but it really does.

it feels neat, tidy, box-like, and certainly without movement.

so what would be ‘fluid sadness’ like my friend was talking about?
i stopped her and asked about it.
the conversation went all over the place.
and she came up with the idea that she sees the sadness as an emotion
she’s having. she can see that’s how she feels. and maybe knowing
it’s an emotion makes it fluid.

maybe.
maybe it’s fluid if we know it’s not all there is.
maybe it’s fluid if we know there’s lots of parts to it and
that’s just one part.

i don’t know.
what makes something ‘fluid’? what does fluid mean?
and does that have anything to do with holding the all?
and!
maybe it’s not about ‘holding’ the all –
that would imply whatever your holding isn’t fluid, right?
maybe it’s about ‘allowing’ the all.
so maybe holding is the wrong word/visual
and maybe i’ll get further in my understanding if i go with
the concept of ‘allowing’ or ‘accepting’…….

like i say, an unfinished thought.
but kinda fun just the same.

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July 30, 2015

feeling like a sponge

i’m in an interesting spot right now.
hungry to learn.
i think it’s really all about inner growth.
yet i watch it come out in all different flavors.
it’s weird.

history and economics have both been topics i’m curious about.
but i think more from an inner growth sorta angle.
which even seems odd to me.
i’m watching this and curious where it will all take me.

i feel like a weather vane and i will turn in whichever way
the wind takes me…..

mark nepo mentioned beethoven in his book last nite.
so then i wandered over to google to check out some letter
beethoven wrote about his struggle with going deaf.
i wanted to touch that.
to feel that.
to learn from that.

in browsing around, i decided to check out the beethoven
movie, ‘immortal beloved.’

i couldn’t finish it tho.
there’s a rape scene in it.
i hear too many of those stories to handle scenes of it.
and i decided i wasn’t learning what i wanted to learn in the movie.
or maybe i was.
maybe i had learned enough.
i had learned what i needed to move on.
and that was that people are complicated, and not always likable.
and yet….here’s someone i prolly wouldn’t have even liked who
could express emotions so deeply. who felt so much.
who could hear the music even when deaf.

so i went to the music.
and as i started to listen i realized that was better than
any movie for me right now. cause i could take his soul here
and guide me with my own soul.

i don’t know where i’m going.
i think it’s just being a sponge for a bit right now.
sponging up the things around me so i can sit with it all.

and it feels really really good.

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July 29, 2015

winston and us

so okay.
it’s been an odd day over here.
i was a bit worn out.
um…a lotta worn out.
so i went with it.
decided to allow any laziness that wanted to come along.
decided to do quiet things.

and then this evening when even quiet things were too much,
i lay myself down and watched a documentary on winston churchill.

yeah.
it’s been an odd day.

it was at the end and they were quoting him and i thought of us.
you guys and me.
i thought of how we surround each other and support each other
and help each other.

and i was filled with gratitude.

the quote?
‘Let us move steadfastly into the storm and through the storm.’

that’s us.
we are what came to mind.
i thought that was pretty darn awesome and had to share.

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July 28, 2015

five beautiful steps

i’m guessin’ it’s five steps.
probably no more than that.
and these five steps taken every tuesday
are one of the highlights of my entire week.

those steps are taken by the guy who picks up my trash.
and for me they’re code for ‘kindness received. kindness returned.’
and somehow they take the weight of the world off and remind me
that good is here. let it in.

once a week now i’ve been getting that reminder.
and each time i’m thrilled with the flood of good feelings
that come over me.

when it gets hot, i leave cold drinks out for the trash guys.
when i had a ton of trash, i started leaving cookies along with the drinks!
this delighted me and now i look for treats for the trash guys when
i go to the grocery store. it’s just fun to do and the kid in me
claps with delight over leaving goodies out to be found.

i get so much joy out of it, it’s silly.
but it’s fun for me, i expect nothing in return,
and i figure it’s one of the hardest most thankless jobs and a little
showing of kindness here and there has got to help.

so there’s two trash days.
both days my trash cans are put back at least off the street.
but on tuesdays, they’re put in with extra extra care.
an extra five steps into the yard.
placed neatly in the shade.

tuesdays the extra kind trash guy comes by.
takes five steps in my yard to return the cans and let me know
he appreciates the goodies.

he has no idea that he is one of my biggest reminders that
the world is filled with beauty. he has no idea that he lights
up my life once a week with those steps he takes.

we don’t have a clue what our actions mean.
we really don’t.
why not offer them with kindness whenever we can?
why not take the extra five steps in?

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