Hello 2010!
With gratitude for so many miracles that got pulled out of aught nine, like rabbits from magicians’ hats, a sigh of relief deep as oceans runs through my being like a freight train that has turned its corner tracks; chugging up steep inclines through snowy, crisp cold alpine passes, now rolling along smoother terrain to mid balance climes; unstoppable in its ahhhhhhhhhhh.
Yesssssss, my soul sings and ‘Thanks Angels !’ is at the heart of my ‘endzone dance.’
Not that I feel I’m anywhere near the fourth quarter end zone. It’s just one of many touchdowns I’ll look back on from Heaven’s vantage point, when I have better vision than these human windows of wide wonder, at how things can turn around just when you think you’re a goner; just when you are convinced that you’re at wits end and no thing will come your way.
I breathe in the wonder and ever green growing gratitude that springs from a well of unending opportunities to have better than I can imagine, when I am forced to spin on the spit of life’s twists until I give up and give in to allowing things to manifest in ways and times far better than I imagined; when I am spent from trying to do it my way or society’s or someone’s way.
It’s then that I get a chance to view everything in and around me from a completely different perspective-albeit that point of view may be flat on the floor.
And when the kicking and screaming stop and I’m wrung out from wrestling with how I see it; how I want it, the it is surprisingly eye-opening…if and, only when, I allow it to coalesce into cleared sight.
This New Year’s Eve, was a blue moon night said to be double the energy of completion and cleansing. The way I saw it written was about more light edging out darkness in this new year; this new decade. I liked the sound of those words especially in light of how much change was wrought and the familiar wrested from us.
It was a bitch of a roller coaster year.
I don’t know many who wouldn’t agree with that on some level.
Losses overwhelmed, grief was at a multi-layered all time high and people got down to just chucking it all. So many hands thrown up in the air made us look like the planet was waving at God. ”Yeah, Big Guy, it’s us down here doin’ the wave and signaling the biggest SOS from stadium Earth.”
Yet, here I sit at 6 in the morning of the first day of the new decade and hope has replaced despondency and feral fear in my heart.
Breathing room seems to be rolling in on an optimistic tide and change wears a new costume, the fabric of which is softer, a bit more flowing and better fitted to new styles of being and doing… a more balanced garment…a one size fits all yet fits each, with room to grow…good for lounging and play as well as appropriate for the office…both day and evening wear for all occasions. Why, it’s the little black dress of the 2-10’s! A must have for all closets.
Back to basics.
Yup. We had to key up our courage, take the hem up, nip in the waist of that sucker and remove the shoulder pads in the jacket …and oh, what a sigh of relief at the end of the refitting to find that we are lighter and more creative; able to move more easily and wear the world like a loose garment.
The I-don’t-wanna-change look became so unwieldy or tattered that wearing it for another season of life became impossible.
The rat race ran out and only the rats won…and even that was was a ‘maybe’ award.
Our human race company had to take on an entirely different mission statement and change its ways of doing business.
And though we’re still digging out, today I have hope. For I am lucky enough to have realized, caved in and changed and am willing to clean, clear, reshape and allow myself and how I am in the world to unfold.
When I’m not fighting the tsunami of change, I can float the currents and find safer haven in ports of call I’d never even dreamed of visiting.
My partnerships are plentiful too. There’s H.P. a power greater than the old company of ‘me, myself and I;’ a host of Angels, Earth and Celestial, who each add their perspectives and talents to the whole and, though there still is a ‘me, myself and I,’ we take a lighter approach to the business of living; allowing a variety of sub contractors to pitch in and bring their best to every endeavor.
In this way; this backing down, stopping cold and allowing room for better than I can imagine to come from what looks like sheer catastrophe, miracles rise up between my eyeballs and slug me like a kid with a gigantic ‘Ha ha!’
OMG! I’m still here after the blizzard of aught nine, after the wipe outs, the bail outs, the chaos, the near not being here at all and the wanting to chuck it all in for real and for good.
Looking back, I see that I got what I asked the Universe for last year…not in ways I thought I wanted; not in safe little boxes of sameness.
No. My greater good came out of the proverbial blue; each one leading and threading one to another; surprising the hell out of me.
I wanted abundance first and foremost – and I meant money.
I wanted healing and perfect health.
I wanted creative projects.
And I figured if I had the first item on that wish list, the rest would follow.
But nooooooo.
What I got was abundance of opportunities to self care, be silent, notice the little things around which brought me joy that didn’t cost a penny and the about face which gave me that scenic view…which led to mind, spirit and body healing…which led to better health, perfect enough for each day…which led to becoming able to consider some superbly creative projects which came my way…which led to actually doing work which makes my heart sing, touches others and gives joy into the world.
Hmmm. Who knows? Perhaps that saying is accurate….’Do what you love and the money will follow.”
What I’m seeing more clearly is that currency comes in many shapes, sizes and forms other than folding cash. Coin of the realm depends upon which realm I’m focusing.
I have abundance of good, nourishing, supportive, unconditionally loving relationships on planet family of choice. Unlimited imagination and a willingness to learn and grow are part of the fabric of my being. Creativity and a desire to be of service in the world stand inside a loving heart and generous spirit and I have faith in all sorts of good appearing at just the right time; in just the right way.
My good this year has come in the miracles of multilayered manifestations where everything is possible when I remove the frame from the picture.
Some listen to me as I process on the way to progress and say, “Miracles, ha.”
I say, “Well, you know when those come around.”
And here we are on the first day of a new decade, after a unique colored, New Year’s eve moon...
for which I'm grateful.
Showing posts with label human spirit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label human spirit. Show all posts
Friday, January 01, 2010
Tuesday, June 02, 2009
Quote For The Day
We have not passed that subtle line between childhood and adulthood until we move from the passive voice to the active voice - that is, until we have stopped saying 'It got lost,' and say, 'I lost it.'
Sydney J. Harris, journalist (1917-1986)
Sydney J. Harris, journalist (1917-1986)
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Branching Out
It is said that we are all one; a part of one another; unique, individual yet the same; like limbs of a tree.
Pondering this thought over the years has taken many twists and turns as with each life experience, I’ve faced gnarls and windbends, whorls and snapping breaks of the branches of my own tree.
It never ceases to amaze me how varied human leaves look, sound, act, react or cease in the storms that this tree of life weathers.
Bending in sweetness to birdsong as a winged one alights in softness on a sturdy shoulder; swinging low with bountiful harvest of luscious ripening of the seasons, holding fast in the face of fierce storms, arms held akimbo reaching for light in the darkness and growing into fantastical shapes with aching, arching of years of survival in all life’s gales and gasps show the simplicity and intricacy of patterning on which one comes to depend for framework. A how-the-world-should-look-and-be in what is named normalcy.
Yet where one might suspect sapling flexibility there may arise oaken solidity unbending; fertile fruit bearing females may fail, male monoliths may moss, and where willows weeping-wend low they may wildly wail warning and warring while weathering the world.
How can it be that if we are all indeed one, there is such diversity, intensity and perversity on the tree of life?
One is tempted to be lulled into a false sense of illusion that leads to expectations of drops of kindness falling gently on leaves being met with kindness of receiving; joy shining in sunshine returning bright, reflective joy; compassion greeted green with whispering breezes empathetically enfolding and satin sadness shaded by the underside of understanding of silver soft leaves.
It is not always so, this vision of how things which seem to have always been will always be.
Therefore questions crop up as behaviors metamorphosis in conditions of global warming, economic explosions and scorched earth wars wreak havoc on the roots of our foresty home.
Chaos of color collapses into challenge to change beyond accustomed seasonal sensations.
Where green at its worst, was envy, it is now greed. Riotous Autumnal ruby reds are flames of fury; buttery yellows of golden years turn into fears for future and burnt browns and siennas represent shades of balefulness.
How can our roots hold fast while limbs have been arched in agony, twisted beyond recognition and broken in breach of faith while the trunk of our tree of life is interminably tested?
Can we, arms of this essential elm, embrace each other and weave together a tapestry of stronger support so that we all may live long and well enough to see other bebranched beeches benefit; palms together play; willows whisper wonder and gingkos give the gold of memory for hickory heirs yet to spring forth?
Will we want to wake up enough to branch out in saner directions; to bring our best to the borrowed time in which we’ find our firred and furrowed forest and are we willing to look deeply inside the bark of ourselves to become aware of and acknowledge our shortcomings and see the lunatic in limbs gone gaga?
Can we manifest peace and perfection without courage for a good look at our family tree and, in the middle of madness all around us, when found to be outrageously out of control; whacked out in our own wilder-ness, can we honestly own our own behavior, see our common roots in "out of my tree' behaviors and answer, without shame or blame, with perhaps a shower of light, the tree trimming question, “From what branch of the Crazy Tree did you fall?”
Pondering this thought over the years has taken many twists and turns as with each life experience, I’ve faced gnarls and windbends, whorls and snapping breaks of the branches of my own tree.
It never ceases to amaze me how varied human leaves look, sound, act, react or cease in the storms that this tree of life weathers.
Bending in sweetness to birdsong as a winged one alights in softness on a sturdy shoulder; swinging low with bountiful harvest of luscious ripening of the seasons, holding fast in the face of fierce storms, arms held akimbo reaching for light in the darkness and growing into fantastical shapes with aching, arching of years of survival in all life’s gales and gasps show the simplicity and intricacy of patterning on which one comes to depend for framework. A how-the-world-should-look-and-be in what is named normalcy.
Yet where one might suspect sapling flexibility there may arise oaken solidity unbending; fertile fruit bearing females may fail, male monoliths may moss, and where willows weeping-wend low they may wildly wail warning and warring while weathering the world.
How can it be that if we are all indeed one, there is such diversity, intensity and perversity on the tree of life?
One is tempted to be lulled into a false sense of illusion that leads to expectations of drops of kindness falling gently on leaves being met with kindness of receiving; joy shining in sunshine returning bright, reflective joy; compassion greeted green with whispering breezes empathetically enfolding and satin sadness shaded by the underside of understanding of silver soft leaves.
It is not always so, this vision of how things which seem to have always been will always be.
Therefore questions crop up as behaviors metamorphosis in conditions of global warming, economic explosions and scorched earth wars wreak havoc on the roots of our foresty home.
Chaos of color collapses into challenge to change beyond accustomed seasonal sensations.
Where green at its worst, was envy, it is now greed. Riotous Autumnal ruby reds are flames of fury; buttery yellows of golden years turn into fears for future and burnt browns and siennas represent shades of balefulness.
How can our roots hold fast while limbs have been arched in agony, twisted beyond recognition and broken in breach of faith while the trunk of our tree of life is interminably tested?
Can we, arms of this essential elm, embrace each other and weave together a tapestry of stronger support so that we all may live long and well enough to see other bebranched beeches benefit; palms together play; willows whisper wonder and gingkos give the gold of memory for hickory heirs yet to spring forth?
Will we want to wake up enough to branch out in saner directions; to bring our best to the borrowed time in which we’ find our firred and furrowed forest and are we willing to look deeply inside the bark of ourselves to become aware of and acknowledge our shortcomings and see the lunatic in limbs gone gaga?
Can we manifest peace and perfection without courage for a good look at our family tree and, in the middle of madness all around us, when found to be outrageously out of control; whacked out in our own wilder-ness, can we honestly own our own behavior, see our common roots in "out of my tree' behaviors and answer, without shame or blame, with perhaps a shower of light, the tree trimming question, “From what branch of the Crazy Tree did you fall?”
Monday, February 19, 2007
The Price Of Winter Fun
by Florence Ondré
Extra pain meds per day for those aches which tell you some precipitation is coming- and soon: Pennies
Fines for those overdue library books that couldn't be returned because of the latest snowstorm which took a surprising new approach from the forecaster's prediction: Nickels
Gas use incurred for forgetting half of what was on shopping list and having to go back out in sleet- one more time: Dimes
Parking in the city- if you can find an available one without mountains of black snow in it: Quarters
Running out of toilet tissue- in the middle of a blizzard: A few dollars ---for paper and gas.
Extra food bought and wasted because the weatherperson said there was a blizzard coming and only rain showed up: $20 to $30 plus
Toilet repair needed because the innards kept secretly pumping water into the tank nonstop for months: $300
Sewer bill for the unnoticed extra water flow: $100 -per month
Leaking roof over one room of house: $980
Repair two months after for same leaking roof in the middle of a Nor'easter, plus windows and storm door damages: Thousands
Going outside barefoot in subzero temps, tripping and fracturing one's own foot - on top of years of medical bills for spinal injury and still going strong: Hundreds of thousands
A mountain of Arrgghh! to go with: Pricless!
Extra pain meds per day for those aches which tell you some precipitation is coming- and soon: Pennies
Fines for those overdue library books that couldn't be returned because of the latest snowstorm which took a surprising new approach from the forecaster's prediction: Nickels
Gas use incurred for forgetting half of what was on shopping list and having to go back out in sleet- one more time: Dimes
Parking in the city- if you can find an available one without mountains of black snow in it: Quarters
Running out of toilet tissue- in the middle of a blizzard: A few dollars ---for paper and gas.
Extra food bought and wasted because the weatherperson said there was a blizzard coming and only rain showed up: $20 to $30 plus
Toilet repair needed because the innards kept secretly pumping water into the tank nonstop for months: $300
Sewer bill for the unnoticed extra water flow: $100 -per month
Leaking roof over one room of house: $980
Repair two months after for same leaking roof in the middle of a Nor'easter, plus windows and storm door damages: Thousands
Going outside barefoot in subzero temps, tripping and fracturing one's own foot - on top of years of medical bills for spinal injury and still going strong: Hundreds of thousands
A mountain of Arrgghh! to go with: Pricless!
Quote For The Day
“To find a person who will love you for no reason, and to shower that person with reasons, that is the ultimate happiness.”
Robert Brault, software developer, writer (1938- )
Robert Brault, software developer, writer (1938- )
Sunday, February 18, 2007
The Gratitude Pool: Taking The Plunge or Getting Submerged?
by Florence Ondré
The challenge to find a grain of gratitude in the middle of your own personal besetting of travails is daunting and yet doable.
Sitting down to write at least one thing I can find in which to be grateful is a snap on the good days and at times when I take a rare glimpse at the nightly newscast. It’s no biggy to feel grateful for the roof over your head and heat in your home while you see so many without one or the other in the middle of subzero temps and blizzards.
Sure, in the face of cataclysms which dwarf your own ills, it’s a hell of a lot easier to get perspective and toss in the towel of temptation to dismiss your own troubles as smaller or no thing to whine about. “Look, at least I have a walker or crutches,” you can say when you see thousands of people dying in a stadium in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina wiped out the very ground of earth, family and way of life. That’s a first level of gratitude expressed from the “Thank God I at least have___!” form of appreciation of what you do have no matter what your daily struggle may be. That’s getting down to the nitty gritty on the fast train.
What I find as laudable and life sustaining is finding gratitude in myself that, though as tiny as an irritating grain of sand in my shoe, may grow into a pebble or a boulder of being grateful for that which stops me in my tracks, makes me reach down to acknowledge the irritant, get grateful that I can actually feel it and be open to what comes next in the Universe’s lesson of awakening awareness in me in that moment.
As I notice that the sand is rolling around under my foot in my shoe, I can be thankful that I have a foot, a shoe, feeling in my extremities, ability to stop, to choose to empty my shoe, drop off the sand in its next area of residence, look and really see what is around me where I’m stopping. Then get grateful for my abilities in what ever state they are, be glad for eyesight (maybe there are beautiful flowers in a nearby garden or strip of concrete or a car coming at breakneck speed to run a light which might have knocked me out of my Earthsuit), sense of smell (perhaps a wind off the ocean brings a clean aroma of nature to brighten my intake of oxygen or a hint of gas that might be leaking invisibly under the street that needs someone to report it for repair). Experiences which if not for the grain of sand in my shoe and my stopping might have otherwise gone unnoticed.
Sometimes, gratitude shows up like today. I’m hurting in more places than I can remember hurting at one time and I’m about to throw a shoe at God, Angels, Universe, whoever’s out there or up there. I’m tired of finding the good in a boatload of crap and wondering what the Hell I could have done to deserve one more freeking health challenge; one more ounce of unleavened ache.
Yeah, I know that is not the question. But today I don’t much give a shit. It’s freezing outside. The heating bill will be astronomical. After 8 years of disability from a spinal injury, leaving me challenged to stand, walk or sit-especially on my left side -with no let up of pain in sight and no help from the medical field; a weird undiagnosed, unsolved mystery glue contamination on every inch of my body, house and grounds for the last 8 months; a spiky pain which appeared in the middle of one night weeks ago in my left toe, which feels like a sliver of glass is in there but has no outward, discernible cause and a now a fractured right foot, I mostly am embarrassed to even tell anyone there’s another catastrophe. I’m left thinking why bother anymore. Who the heck will want to hear another sob story? Who will believe this woman who touts gratitude as a benefit which greases the wheels of life making things easier, better, more positive, is anything but a sham, a bs er, a great big advertisement for anything else but gratitude?
Then, after a good cry or yell, I look outside my window to the backyard where the neighborhood cats are ice-skating and the squirrels are running across the utility wires with big snow balls in their mouths to try to tuck them into their nests in the trees. It's comical. I can’t help but laugh and be grateful I hobbled on my walker, snap crackling and popping from the bubble wrap taped on each hand-hold to try to ease my hands (one of which was fractured years ago and now aches from the daily pressure put on it by having to use crutches or a walker to get around the house). I notice how the dog whips his head up from his bed at the sound of the barrage of tiny explosions of air as the chambers of bubbles burst under my hands. I’ve become my own noisemaker in the party of life.
How could I not notice and laugh at myself, as well as the critters outside? We’re all just doing our best to get through the day, tending to basics. Somehow a bit of humor creeps in to bring a bit of happy to my misery.
And somehow, I feel grateful that I can lighten up. I can have gratitude and griping. The gratitude seems to soften my edges like the laughter lifts my spirit and the cumulative boulders I shoulder become bearable.
Do I want more or wish for things to be different? Yes. When pain is high and I’m caught in a body that finds another way not to work, yes I do with a vengeance of the fibers of my being reaching past shredded limits which scream, “Now! I want my miracle now! Heal me now!” I shriek inside with all manner of negotiating, bargaining about how I’ll do so much good if only I can have back my body that works.
On those days, after embracing my feelings, all of them; messy and unmanageable, I turn my mind to find what I have to be grateful for and treasures emerge around me in lessons of patience with myself, which radiate out as patience with others; a pleasure in accepting the goodness in me which also ripples out; enjoyment of what I can accomplish. Seeing the places where I cannot do for myself becomes dignity for someone else getting to feel good about helping me.
My physical disabilities have brought me the opportunity to meet and interact with angels in the helping professions of western and complementary health care, who stretched their own limits to partner with me in care that was best for me as an individual-not the usual rote. Were it not for my need, I’d never have had the occasion to meet these wonderful caring souls who enriched my path thus far.
Though I want to be healed and healthy again, I’m grateful for those who came into my life in compassion and kindness; who shared their own expertise and skills to enrich my life. They have nourished my being so I can do the same.
They got real with me and acknowledged that what I go through each day is hard and they don't think I’m Typhoid Mary or a magnet for all that is crummy in life. These wonders offset the people who meet my next calamity or loss of physical ability with, “What did you do now?” or “How could you be so dumb as to…?” or the hand wringers who moan and groan, “Oh, no not again…”
Just for today, I choose to be thankful that I’m not hand wringing even though I feel overwhelmed.
Just for today I will not overtax my immune system or energy field with what ifs, if onlys, and whys? My choice is to look at those cats and squirrels and the sun glinting off the ice field covering our neighborhood, to laugh at my own noisemaking and have a party on my couch with a good movie to watch; an interesting book to read; a stack of crackers with cheese and something cool or warm to drink, my meds if I need them, a good partner who loves me and helps me so much, the energy of unconditional love from the dog who plasters himself right up against the legs of my walker to be close to me; quiet and safety in my home; indoor plumbing; a bed and comfy covers for sleeping; electricity; heat and a bouquet of tulips opening slowly in the vase in my window from my honey; calls, e-mails or check-ins from friends who haven’t gotten tired of the same ol same ol and a mind that can still find the pony in a room full of horse pocky.
Meet you at the table on the other side where we can all look back and share our experiences of the many things we enjoyed and learned while here in Schoolroom Earth.
I’m thinking we’re in the advanced class!
The challenge to find a grain of gratitude in the middle of your own personal besetting of travails is daunting and yet doable.
Sitting down to write at least one thing I can find in which to be grateful is a snap on the good days and at times when I take a rare glimpse at the nightly newscast. It’s no biggy to feel grateful for the roof over your head and heat in your home while you see so many without one or the other in the middle of subzero temps and blizzards.
Sure, in the face of cataclysms which dwarf your own ills, it’s a hell of a lot easier to get perspective and toss in the towel of temptation to dismiss your own troubles as smaller or no thing to whine about. “Look, at least I have a walker or crutches,” you can say when you see thousands of people dying in a stadium in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina wiped out the very ground of earth, family and way of life. That’s a first level of gratitude expressed from the “Thank God I at least have___!” form of appreciation of what you do have no matter what your daily struggle may be. That’s getting down to the nitty gritty on the fast train.
What I find as laudable and life sustaining is finding gratitude in myself that, though as tiny as an irritating grain of sand in my shoe, may grow into a pebble or a boulder of being grateful for that which stops me in my tracks, makes me reach down to acknowledge the irritant, get grateful that I can actually feel it and be open to what comes next in the Universe’s lesson of awakening awareness in me in that moment.
As I notice that the sand is rolling around under my foot in my shoe, I can be thankful that I have a foot, a shoe, feeling in my extremities, ability to stop, to choose to empty my shoe, drop off the sand in its next area of residence, look and really see what is around me where I’m stopping. Then get grateful for my abilities in what ever state they are, be glad for eyesight (maybe there are beautiful flowers in a nearby garden or strip of concrete or a car coming at breakneck speed to run a light which might have knocked me out of my Earthsuit), sense of smell (perhaps a wind off the ocean brings a clean aroma of nature to brighten my intake of oxygen or a hint of gas that might be leaking invisibly under the street that needs someone to report it for repair). Experiences which if not for the grain of sand in my shoe and my stopping might have otherwise gone unnoticed.
Sometimes, gratitude shows up like today. I’m hurting in more places than I can remember hurting at one time and I’m about to throw a shoe at God, Angels, Universe, whoever’s out there or up there. I’m tired of finding the good in a boatload of crap and wondering what the Hell I could have done to deserve one more freeking health challenge; one more ounce of unleavened ache.
Yeah, I know that is not the question. But today I don’t much give a shit. It’s freezing outside. The heating bill will be astronomical. After 8 years of disability from a spinal injury, leaving me challenged to stand, walk or sit-especially on my left side -with no let up of pain in sight and no help from the medical field; a weird undiagnosed, unsolved mystery glue contamination on every inch of my body, house and grounds for the last 8 months; a spiky pain which appeared in the middle of one night weeks ago in my left toe, which feels like a sliver of glass is in there but has no outward, discernible cause and a now a fractured right foot, I mostly am embarrassed to even tell anyone there’s another catastrophe. I’m left thinking why bother anymore. Who the heck will want to hear another sob story? Who will believe this woman who touts gratitude as a benefit which greases the wheels of life making things easier, better, more positive, is anything but a sham, a bs er, a great big advertisement for anything else but gratitude?
Then, after a good cry or yell, I look outside my window to the backyard where the neighborhood cats are ice-skating and the squirrels are running across the utility wires with big snow balls in their mouths to try to tuck them into their nests in the trees. It's comical. I can’t help but laugh and be grateful I hobbled on my walker, snap crackling and popping from the bubble wrap taped on each hand-hold to try to ease my hands (one of which was fractured years ago and now aches from the daily pressure put on it by having to use crutches or a walker to get around the house). I notice how the dog whips his head up from his bed at the sound of the barrage of tiny explosions of air as the chambers of bubbles burst under my hands. I’ve become my own noisemaker in the party of life.
How could I not notice and laugh at myself, as well as the critters outside? We’re all just doing our best to get through the day, tending to basics. Somehow a bit of humor creeps in to bring a bit of happy to my misery.
And somehow, I feel grateful that I can lighten up. I can have gratitude and griping. The gratitude seems to soften my edges like the laughter lifts my spirit and the cumulative boulders I shoulder become bearable.
Do I want more or wish for things to be different? Yes. When pain is high and I’m caught in a body that finds another way not to work, yes I do with a vengeance of the fibers of my being reaching past shredded limits which scream, “Now! I want my miracle now! Heal me now!” I shriek inside with all manner of negotiating, bargaining about how I’ll do so much good if only I can have back my body that works.
On those days, after embracing my feelings, all of them; messy and unmanageable, I turn my mind to find what I have to be grateful for and treasures emerge around me in lessons of patience with myself, which radiate out as patience with others; a pleasure in accepting the goodness in me which also ripples out; enjoyment of what I can accomplish. Seeing the places where I cannot do for myself becomes dignity for someone else getting to feel good about helping me.
My physical disabilities have brought me the opportunity to meet and interact with angels in the helping professions of western and complementary health care, who stretched their own limits to partner with me in care that was best for me as an individual-not the usual rote. Were it not for my need, I’d never have had the occasion to meet these wonderful caring souls who enriched my path thus far.
Though I want to be healed and healthy again, I’m grateful for those who came into my life in compassion and kindness; who shared their own expertise and skills to enrich my life. They have nourished my being so I can do the same.
They got real with me and acknowledged that what I go through each day is hard and they don't think I’m Typhoid Mary or a magnet for all that is crummy in life. These wonders offset the people who meet my next calamity or loss of physical ability with, “What did you do now?” or “How could you be so dumb as to…?” or the hand wringers who moan and groan, “Oh, no not again…”
Just for today, I choose to be thankful that I’m not hand wringing even though I feel overwhelmed.
Just for today I will not overtax my immune system or energy field with what ifs, if onlys, and whys? My choice is to look at those cats and squirrels and the sun glinting off the ice field covering our neighborhood, to laugh at my own noisemaking and have a party on my couch with a good movie to watch; an interesting book to read; a stack of crackers with cheese and something cool or warm to drink, my meds if I need them, a good partner who loves me and helps me so much, the energy of unconditional love from the dog who plasters himself right up against the legs of my walker to be close to me; quiet and safety in my home; indoor plumbing; a bed and comfy covers for sleeping; electricity; heat and a bouquet of tulips opening slowly in the vase in my window from my honey; calls, e-mails or check-ins from friends who haven’t gotten tired of the same ol same ol and a mind that can still find the pony in a room full of horse pocky.
Meet you at the table on the other side where we can all look back and share our experiences of the many things we enjoyed and learned while here in Schoolroom Earth.
I’m thinking we’re in the advanced class!
Thursday, October 19, 2006
The Gratitude Pool: Creativity and Human Spirit
by
Florence Ondré
I'm so grateful for the creativity and warm spirit of people around our planet.
In a world which looks so out of control and violent, it's a challenge to see things otherwise.
The nightly news, broadcasting it's steady stream of 90 per cent tragedy and 10 per cent (I'm being generous here) positive, uplifting and good, can obscure a greater, less visible or widely reported, reality.
I believe that Anne Frank was accurate. On my most challenging days, in my heart (and there are those days where I have to dig deep), I too believe that all people are good in theirs.
The Free Hugs Campaign, which started with one man- Juan Mann to be specific- in Sydney, Australia. Standing solo in a public place, holding a cardboard sign which announced hugs were available for no fee; no limit, for anyone who wanted one, this lone person started a rash of good energy that spread faster than calamitous contagion around the world.
Now this kind of epidemic we can live with.
Who among us couldn't use a hug? Just a minute of a Mom-patting, ah-babying, yes-you-are-good, atta-boy, good job, keep on keeping on, good-to-see-you experience of human connection can make you smile, take the world less seriously and send you on your way a bit lighter and happier. Certainly makes my work day go more smoothly.
It's a gesture of loving energy that anyone can give or receive. Remember the last time you had a disagreement with someone. Didn't it feel good to make up and have a hug? Just look at dogs. They wag their whole bodies in happiness from receiving a hug.
Hugs for free? Given by a person you don't know? Wow. A little scary. Might take a moment to let go of distrust and avail yourself of a happy second where two strangers can share a moment like friends. Radical stuff. Chancey. Dicey.
Authorities in Australia had initial doubt about the legality of such a concept.
"Stop that folderol right now, you uniquers!"
The ministry of silly stuff should have been called. "Yup. It's giggle producing. Here's your permit."
It did take the populace banding together, inking 10,000 plus pro hugging signatures to get an official stamp of approval.
Good non violent speaking up and out people. Patience and persistance. Even hugs are a process.
Might have to take down those walls we've built up to insulate us from each other. Might have to experience life from a kid point of view.
I'm not saying go hug people in dark alleys. It's good to be self caring and discerning. We're talking mall, streets, public areas, daylight.
Take a look at the videos from the many countries where people emulated Juan Mann. Become aware of how you feel looking at all those joy filled people giving and receiving hugs.
I couldn't stop smiling as I got to share the good contagious energy of hugs in Moscow, Barcelona, Venezuela, Victoria B.C., Kiev, Portugal, Tel Aviv, Mexico, and America. I laughed watching the experiences of tentativeness turn into joy and unity.
It was contagious and I hadn't even left my chair.
I wanted to get up and go out with my own hand made Free Hugs sign.
Maybe that would be a good way to celebrate holidays, everydays. Talk about your joy to the world. For free yet, already!
With a little creativity and spirit, look what can travel around the globe; making people feel united, peacefilled, elated with natural happiness.
The simplicity of a human act...a hug.
Thanks Juan. Thanks all you good hearted people of all ages, sizes, nationalities, beliefs who dared to be the best human you can be; who dared to smile, to experience peace and a moment of gladness...those who dared to hug.
You inspire us.
Florence Ondré
I'm so grateful for the creativity and warm spirit of people around our planet.
In a world which looks so out of control and violent, it's a challenge to see things otherwise.
The nightly news, broadcasting it's steady stream of 90 per cent tragedy and 10 per cent (I'm being generous here) positive, uplifting and good, can obscure a greater, less visible or widely reported, reality.
I believe that Anne Frank was accurate. On my most challenging days, in my heart (and there are those days where I have to dig deep), I too believe that all people are good in theirs.
The Free Hugs Campaign, which started with one man- Juan Mann to be specific- in Sydney, Australia. Standing solo in a public place, holding a cardboard sign which announced hugs were available for no fee; no limit, for anyone who wanted one, this lone person started a rash of good energy that spread faster than calamitous contagion around the world.
Now this kind of epidemic we can live with.
Who among us couldn't use a hug? Just a minute of a Mom-patting, ah-babying, yes-you-are-good, atta-boy, good job, keep on keeping on, good-to-see-you experience of human connection can make you smile, take the world less seriously and send you on your way a bit lighter and happier. Certainly makes my work day go more smoothly.
It's a gesture of loving energy that anyone can give or receive. Remember the last time you had a disagreement with someone. Didn't it feel good to make up and have a hug? Just look at dogs. They wag their whole bodies in happiness from receiving a hug.
Hugs for free? Given by a person you don't know? Wow. A little scary. Might take a moment to let go of distrust and avail yourself of a happy second where two strangers can share a moment like friends. Radical stuff. Chancey. Dicey.
Authorities in Australia had initial doubt about the legality of such a concept.
"Stop that folderol right now, you uniquers!"
The ministry of silly stuff should have been called. "Yup. It's giggle producing. Here's your permit."
It did take the populace banding together, inking 10,000 plus pro hugging signatures to get an official stamp of approval.
Good non violent speaking up and out people. Patience and persistance. Even hugs are a process.
Might have to take down those walls we've built up to insulate us from each other. Might have to experience life from a kid point of view.
I'm not saying go hug people in dark alleys. It's good to be self caring and discerning. We're talking mall, streets, public areas, daylight.
Take a look at the videos from the many countries where people emulated Juan Mann. Become aware of how you feel looking at all those joy filled people giving and receiving hugs.
I couldn't stop smiling as I got to share the good contagious energy of hugs in Moscow, Barcelona, Venezuela, Victoria B.C., Kiev, Portugal, Tel Aviv, Mexico, and America. I laughed watching the experiences of tentativeness turn into joy and unity.
It was contagious and I hadn't even left my chair.
I wanted to get up and go out with my own hand made Free Hugs sign.
Maybe that would be a good way to celebrate holidays, everydays. Talk about your joy to the world. For free yet, already!
With a little creativity and spirit, look what can travel around the globe; making people feel united, peacefilled, elated with natural happiness.
The simplicity of a human act...a hug.
Thanks Juan. Thanks all you good hearted people of all ages, sizes, nationalities, beliefs who dared to be the best human you can be; who dared to smile, to experience peace and a moment of gladness...those who dared to hug.
You inspire us.
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