Is the storing of glue sticks a common practice in your home?
Perhaps you have come to discover what I have.... They are still there when you want to pull them out, they take up space ( small yes, but space anyway) and mostly are all dried up and useless. Hating to waste anything, even though I was not even a twinkle in anyone's eye during the great depression, I will toss a little nearly gone glue stick into a cupboard.
After this discovery of stored dried up glue sticks I have decided...
the storage of useful things will be on my list this year.
Such as food, water, fuel, first aid stuff, kindness, tolerance, and stuff like that.
You see, just like my dried up old glue sticks...
I have been known to hang on to and pull out old dried up hurts and resentments.
The useless hard feelings are just stuck away waiting till the right moment to be hurled to the forefront of my brain and heart.
Which is the exact place I want to be thinking "happy thoughts" as well as contemplating and planning some random act of kindness.
Filling the archives of my brain and heart with valuables such as tenderness, understanding, compassion, tolerance, and the under valued treasure of Charity is my desired goal.
From now on when I come upon a glue stick that still has value I put it to good use then toss it so it does not become something I don't want cluttering my cupboards.
From now on when I come upon a left over pain of the emotional kind, I will put energy into tossing it out and replacing it with tender reminders that we each have our own path here in mortality. At least I will try harder~!
I love the word Journey: "A set amount of travelling", and as I travel I learn.
I have a purpose as well as resources.
Putting to work the resources available to me for personal growth actually works to benefit everyone else.
Oh How I LOVE to clean out the closets and cupboards and get rid of the useless glue sticks.
It feels SO good !~!
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Eyes in the back of my Heart
My eyes in the back of my heart take me back to Christmas.
The fleeting flash of a huge band of cousins standing at an aunts piano singing Christmas Carols seeps from my memory bank from time to time.
French Hot Chocolate and homemade cookies from Grandma's house open the flood gates of sincere joy and smells I still find lingering in the air especially at this time of year.
We cousins ran and ran through the tiny hall into the living room and through the hall again. Drinking from beautiful tea cups and saucers, just like all the grown ups,
Oh how we knew our Grandma loved us.
Her beautiful homemade cookies made weeks in advance were kept in ZCMI boxes
out in her cold back room.
Homemade crocheted hangers and dishtowels as well as slippers were the gifts Grandma intently worked on all year long so each person would have some treasure to unwrap and take home. Small golden books were given to the small kiddies.
I still see myself as a toddler sitting on her lap in her rocker as she read Humpty Dumpty Books to me. That rocker resides in my house, although my son thinks it is his:)
Ok, It is his~!
One very vivid Christmas memory for me was when I was about 11 years old.
I remember getting so many things I could not see my bed after I laid it all out. I also, distinctly recall the feeling of being so embarrassed over my collage of do-dads, trinkets and expensive clothes.
As we did in "those" days, my sister and I went from one friends house to another to check out the Santa trail. As we all wandered in and out of each others homes we two returned to ours knowing we had more than any humans fair share given to us for Christmas.
I came to understand my parents worked and shopped hard for months in advance to find
exactly the right item for each of their six children. Then Christmas morning they just watched with complete utter happiness as we took turns unveiling every treasure.
Now, as I near 60 years of age I am seeing more and more through the eyes in the back of my heart. These eyes now see what my heart always knew and recognized as love and devotion. Each package give, each treasure sought for in order to GIVE and make Memories was a success.
Those eyes in the back of my heart know how precious all gifts are no matter the price tag.
The fleeting flash of a huge band of cousins standing at an aunts piano singing Christmas Carols seeps from my memory bank from time to time.
French Hot Chocolate and homemade cookies from Grandma's house open the flood gates of sincere joy and smells I still find lingering in the air especially at this time of year.
We cousins ran and ran through the tiny hall into the living room and through the hall again. Drinking from beautiful tea cups and saucers, just like all the grown ups,
Oh how we knew our Grandma loved us.
Her beautiful homemade cookies made weeks in advance were kept in ZCMI boxes
out in her cold back room.
Homemade crocheted hangers and dishtowels as well as slippers were the gifts Grandma intently worked on all year long so each person would have some treasure to unwrap and take home. Small golden books were given to the small kiddies.
I still see myself as a toddler sitting on her lap in her rocker as she read Humpty Dumpty Books to me. That rocker resides in my house, although my son thinks it is his:)
Ok, It is his~!
One very vivid Christmas memory for me was when I was about 11 years old.
I remember getting so many things I could not see my bed after I laid it all out. I also, distinctly recall the feeling of being so embarrassed over my collage of do-dads, trinkets and expensive clothes.
As we did in "those" days, my sister and I went from one friends house to another to check out the Santa trail. As we all wandered in and out of each others homes we two returned to ours knowing we had more than any humans fair share given to us for Christmas.
I came to understand my parents worked and shopped hard for months in advance to find
exactly the right item for each of their six children. Then Christmas morning they just watched with complete utter happiness as we took turns unveiling every treasure.
Now, as I near 60 years of age I am seeing more and more through the eyes in the back of my heart. These eyes now see what my heart always knew and recognized as love and devotion. Each package give, each treasure sought for in order to GIVE and make Memories was a success.
Those eyes in the back of my heart know how precious all gifts are no matter the price tag.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
The Wonderful Wizard of ...???
Think about The Wonderful Wizard of... and then
Imagine, when you do arrive at his back door, he will have to tell you (all of you) he had just what you needed to get you home all along. Did you forget, or just not notice?
All the same, you are probably still hoping that some "big" magic guy out there at the end of the Yellow brick road has all the answers... cause I am. In fact I am planning on it~!
I hate the idea of flying monkeys though, and having to dance and sing with tin guys or lions and tigers and bears to worry about. And then there is the thing about a witch who is actually in charge of those creepy monkeys.
And, if you are not really careful there are poppy fields just waiting to add to your frustration and slow your progress.
It just sounds so complicated and scary if you think about it. The whole idea about being lost from home and trying to get back and alone no less, then joining up with a few curious souls, magically joining arms and skip along to find the one who has the only answer.
One lovely thought is that of tiny almost unrecognizable helpers who show the way.
Where the heck are my Muchkins (?) and other important questions.
1. Am I taking others with me? Joining up with my fellow lost souls, skipping through life together in hopes making the journey back the safest it can be while avoiding the scary monkeys and the owner of said monkeys?
2. How long has it been since I really thanked a munchkin?
3. Do I fall asleep in the poppies too long letting important time be wasted?
4. Do I have what it takes in my memory bank or faith bank to spur me on when my
good fairy is letting me struggle?
Imagine, when you do arrive at his back door, he will have to tell you (all of you) he had just what you needed to get you home all along. Did you forget, or just not notice?
All the same, you are probably still hoping that some "big" magic guy out there at the end of the Yellow brick road has all the answers... cause I am. In fact I am planning on it~!
I hate the idea of flying monkeys though, and having to dance and sing with tin guys or lions and tigers and bears to worry about. And then there is the thing about a witch who is actually in charge of those creepy monkeys.
And, if you are not really careful there are poppy fields just waiting to add to your frustration and slow your progress.
It just sounds so complicated and scary if you think about it. The whole idea about being lost from home and trying to get back and alone no less, then joining up with a few curious souls, magically joining arms and skip along to find the one who has the only answer.
One lovely thought is that of tiny almost unrecognizable helpers who show the way.
Where the heck are my Muchkins (?) and other important questions.
1. Am I taking others with me? Joining up with my fellow lost souls, skipping through life together in hopes making the journey back the safest it can be while avoiding the scary monkeys and the owner of said monkeys?
2. How long has it been since I really thanked a munchkin?
3. Do I fall asleep in the poppies too long letting important time be wasted?
4. Do I have what it takes in my memory bank or faith bank to spur me on when my
good fairy is letting me struggle?
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Boys to MEN
Once upon a time I had house over run with little boys who eventually became, two by two, medium boys, then all at once I had a passel of 8 men who left... one by one.
Huge furry faced, burly, and not so burly, rough and tumble "Men"
Venturing out into the world to make a splash or bang or pop or a big "wow here I am world".
My little guys who used to wrestle with me, whine for my attention and beg for more cookies just emerged from cocoons of constant need to a world of their own.
A world, on a count of me being a girl, I had little idea about what was really going on.
AAAGGGGG and YIKES>>>>
It isn't like I had no idea the day would come, that moment in time when my stinking nest would be
EMPTY:(
I knew, just like we know we will eventually have to face wrinkles, or a broken down
car in the middle of highway 0 headed due south.
But did I look forward to it? NO and YES.
Because with every sorrow comes a goodie.
Bye bye sons>>> Hello Grandkiddies!~!!
Ever noticed how well behaved the grands are when the parents are GONE out for the night?
Then we can get to the business of eating junk and watching TV or just doing NOTHING for a long time with NO parents.
I adore my sons.... never underestimate the ability of a near 60 year old
Mother bear.
I would fight to the death, rescue any one of them anytime day or night,
feed and nurture them right up to the point of being told off...
with never a regret, never a hesitation.
You must understand the arms of a mother never cease to rock and cradle her children with
the Love of God.
Her vision and comprehension expands all horizons of electronics, time and titles shooting
straight to the heavens above.
Oh, nothing makes me smile brighter or my heart sing more sweetly than to see the
tender, simple, strong, loving
Men who were once my boys.
Huge furry faced, burly, and not so burly, rough and tumble "Men"
Venturing out into the world to make a splash or bang or pop or a big "wow here I am world".
My little guys who used to wrestle with me, whine for my attention and beg for more cookies just emerged from cocoons of constant need to a world of their own.
A world, on a count of me being a girl, I had little idea about what was really going on.
AAAGGGGG and YIKES>>>>
It isn't like I had no idea the day would come, that moment in time when my stinking nest would be
EMPTY:(
I knew, just like we know we will eventually have to face wrinkles, or a broken down
car in the middle of highway 0 headed due south.
But did I look forward to it? NO and YES.
Because with every sorrow comes a goodie.
Bye bye sons>>> Hello Grandkiddies!~!!
Ever noticed how well behaved the grands are when the parents are GONE out for the night?
Then we can get to the business of eating junk and watching TV or just doing NOTHING for a long time with NO parents.
I adore my sons.... never underestimate the ability of a near 60 year old
Mother bear.
I would fight to the death, rescue any one of them anytime day or night,
feed and nurture them right up to the point of being told off...
with never a regret, never a hesitation.
You must understand the arms of a mother never cease to rock and cradle her children with
the Love of God.
Her vision and comprehension expands all horizons of electronics, time and titles shooting
straight to the heavens above.
Oh, nothing makes me smile brighter or my heart sing more sweetly than to see the
tender, simple, strong, loving
Men who were once my boys.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Restoring Courage
Years ago, after dark, in the summer months,
I could be found in our front yard barefoot...garden hose in hand watering every inch of the grass for hours.
In the house were small and medium size humans I called my kids. I usually prayed they were sleeping, not tossing each other and food around. Sometimes the prayers made their way to heaven, other times, well, who knows what happened to them.
Tonight while watering some dry spots on our grass, with bare feet, a wave of tender courage washed over my soul, realizing how connecting with mother earth seemed to restore my courage to face a new day, way back when as well as tonight.
My days are different, trials have changed and new pains attached to the art of living...but the truth remains.
Time spent talking to God, feet planted firmly on his green earth, just steps away from reality is still my recipe for Restoring my Courage.
Try it on for size in the world of automatic sprinklers and such.
I could be found in our front yard barefoot...garden hose in hand watering every inch of the grass for hours.
In the house were small and medium size humans I called my kids. I usually prayed they were sleeping, not tossing each other and food around. Sometimes the prayers made their way to heaven, other times, well, who knows what happened to them.
Tonight while watering some dry spots on our grass, with bare feet, a wave of tender courage washed over my soul, realizing how connecting with mother earth seemed to restore my courage to face a new day, way back when as well as tonight.
My days are different, trials have changed and new pains attached to the art of living...but the truth remains.
Time spent talking to God, feet planted firmly on his green earth, just steps away from reality is still my recipe for Restoring my Courage.
Try it on for size in the world of automatic sprinklers and such.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Air Piano and other joys
Driving has always been a great love of mine. Self confessed former multi-tasker while driving, I find it very tough to "just drive". Really there are so many things I can be doing and trust me, want to be doing.
I have narrowed it down to my very favorites:
1. Praying...cause He is always listening
2. Singing...with anyone who is on my CD at the time.
3. Air anything... I am so good at air piano, guitar, flute
violin, bells and much more.
What I love most about these amazing talents I take on in my car is this: I am so good. I smile, and just groove with greatness. My fellow travelers (in my car or the ones next to me) get a kick out of my not yet Broadway show.
More importantly is how purely silly and joyful my soul is fed. Yes, I love my soul to be fed with more than veggies and sugar>>>
Silly feels GOOD~!!
Next time you see me and my arms are flying about, just remember a star is being born.
And you, my friends can be one too~!! Because when it comes right down to it the decision to
BEE happy is all in YOUR mind (or arms and voice).
And if I can help you get a chuckle out of your day~!! My am happy. ( yes I said MY am happy) The phrase if borrowed from my sweet Skyler.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Dying.... ain't no way to avoid, as though it were a pot hole
I am so happy to be in the service of the "death and dying" world.
My eyes have been opened as to the blessing of the need for the wearing out of things.
How many years would you use and re-use the dish cloth given at your bridal shower? Maybe ten if you got lots of them and are very lucky. But after much use and dedication to your dishes and counters it has to go on ... for the dish cloth it will be the garbage. For us, each of us precious souls, it will be to refinement. Continued growth and use to Father we never imagined.
As I reflect on the decline (so we call it) of the elderly, I can't help but see far before that. Yes, before. In what I know was the Pre-earth life. Time spent at Father in Heaven's knee...being taught and nurtured. I envision our learning and growing until it became time to enter our earthly state. To take a beautiful body. Soul unites with body and creates a mortal person. Crafted to perfection>>> EVEN those who may not appear to us as Perfect. God knows, we are HIS.
So, now we spend time on earth, learning, growing, loving. Really what else is there. Getting Stuff?
Then as our clocks wind down through a natural process and age shows itself in ways no one is fond of we just often pretend it is not taking place. I have often wondered why we are so hesitant to move beyond the veil and return home. I believe our will to live is instilled by our God. Good thing too or everyone would be dying to get back to heaven. (pun intended)
My message today is this: Coach the process as we were coached in heaven to come here, as birth parents are coached to give birth. Not only is it okay, but can be a learning experience like no other.
At least prepare your own minds to accept the reality of decline and simply make peace with your own reservations. Consider the stages in grieving:
1.Denial and Isolation
2. Anger
3. Bargaining
4. Depression
5. Acceptance
I feel as though I repeat those steps a lot....with big family crisis, job loss etc.
If only one thought sticks with you today let it be this.
EMBRACE THE TRIAL AND GROW FROM IT. LET IT TEACH YOUR SPIRIT.
You can be as vigil as you want, death sneaks up and takes you (and your loved ones) off to the new journey no matter what.
My eyes have been opened as to the blessing of the need for the wearing out of things.
How many years would you use and re-use the dish cloth given at your bridal shower? Maybe ten if you got lots of them and are very lucky. But after much use and dedication to your dishes and counters it has to go on ... for the dish cloth it will be the garbage. For us, each of us precious souls, it will be to refinement. Continued growth and use to Father we never imagined.
As I reflect on the decline (so we call it) of the elderly, I can't help but see far before that. Yes, before. In what I know was the Pre-earth life. Time spent at Father in Heaven's knee...being taught and nurtured. I envision our learning and growing until it became time to enter our earthly state. To take a beautiful body. Soul unites with body and creates a mortal person. Crafted to perfection>>> EVEN those who may not appear to us as Perfect. God knows, we are HIS.
So, now we spend time on earth, learning, growing, loving. Really what else is there. Getting Stuff?
Then as our clocks wind down through a natural process and age shows itself in ways no one is fond of we just often pretend it is not taking place. I have often wondered why we are so hesitant to move beyond the veil and return home. I believe our will to live is instilled by our God. Good thing too or everyone would be dying to get back to heaven. (pun intended)
My message today is this: Coach the process as we were coached in heaven to come here, as birth parents are coached to give birth. Not only is it okay, but can be a learning experience like no other.
At least prepare your own minds to accept the reality of decline and simply make peace with your own reservations. Consider the stages in grieving:
1.Denial and Isolation
2. Anger
3. Bargaining
4. Depression
5. Acceptance
I feel as though I repeat those steps a lot....with big family crisis, job loss etc.
If only one thought sticks with you today let it be this.
EMBRACE THE TRIAL AND GROW FROM IT. LET IT TEACH YOUR SPIRIT.
You can be as vigil as you want, death sneaks up and takes you (and your loved ones) off to the new journey no matter what.
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