Well, hells bells...

Got this adorable award from Chris at Enchanted Oak...the deal is link it back to her and send it on to at least 3 other bloggers? I've never done this, because well, you know...I'm a technotard!! And then list 10 things that make you happy. So, I'm sending it on to...Roxy, and Kathy, and Carol, and Gary
WooHoo! You're tagged!!
My list of (only??) 10 things that make me happy:
1) That Irishman
2) Friends
3) Spring wildflowers
4) Good Coffee!!!
5) Family
6) Furry friends
7) Random Acts of Kindness
8) Being Sober and living ODAAT
9) Other happy people
10) Writing, Reading, and all the other things I take for granted.

And there you have it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*



I have been feeling great all day, until about 4 this afternoon, suddenly started hurting like the dickens. Laid up and read, took it real easy...this afternoon earlier, I gently swept the kitchen floor and walked out to the mailbox on my crutches. Then around the house to the chicken coop, where I gathered eggs. Hobbled back in and it hurt quite a bit, and I realized it had been feeling so good all day I hadn't taken any pain medication. So I took some and didn't think too much more about it. When hubby got home from work, I asked him to help me change the ice packs because I was feeling rough, and when we opened it up there was blood everywhere. Apparently, I broke one of the stitches on the left side of the knee. (They only have 2 stitches in each one). It's been bleeding off and on all night, so first thing in the morning I have to call the doctors office and see what they want me to do.

It's scaring me a little. One tiny little hole shouldn't be causing me this much trouble. lol


I slept really well last night and didn't get up til after 9 o'clock this morning!!

And I just want to say thank you to you all for your kindness and concern. It means so much.

Tonight I had to wake the Irishman, and I always try to not ever do that...he's an early sleeper/riser and our schedules are pretty mismatched, because of his work hours. Bless his heart, he scolded me for apologizing for waking him up...but I know he doesn't do well without his requisite 8 hours.

So goes day 1 of the recovery process. I hope that I haven't done any grave damage, I don't think I did and the doc said full weight bearing on the knee...so...I guess I just have to wait and see.


Anyhoo, it's off to bed for this old cow...see you tomorrow earlier, with my Flash 55....

Love and big sloppy smoochies to you all.



Namaste.

December 27,2009

I've spent a large portion of my life feeling like a troll. A stubby legged, wild haired, mushmouth of a troll. In my weaker moments, I still find myself feeling like this from time to time. Never quite good enough. Never quite smart enough. Just waiting to be thrown over one more time for the real prizes in this world. I'm not entirely sure why this is...I was the firstborn child of a couple who'd been told they could never have children. The first of six, for that matter. I was read to, loved and exclaimed over for the first few years of my life. But no matter that--I always felt inside that there was a piece missing, or that I was somehow secretly defective in some way. Once I got old enough to be out in the world, I did whatever I could to make myself invisible. Invisible, or incredibly larger than life and outrageous. One extreme or the other. Either way, you couldn't touch me. I set myself apart from my family, from my peers, from everyone and everything.


I certainly set myself apart from God. I would spend years reading everything about every religion or spiritual endeavor I could get my hands on. I had just enough information to be dangerous, as they say. I would ferret out lots of info, and abruptly walk the other direction. I railed against the God of my misunderstanding. I envied people with religious backgrounds, because they seemed to have something I wanted, but thought I could never have. They had a safety net, was what I decided. I used to tell people that I lived my life on the high wire, with no net. And I believed it. I could not imagine a deity that would allow as much suffering as I saw in the world. I couldn't imagine praying like people did, or believing like they seemed to believe. It was a bunch of crap to me. Opiate of the masses. I never once attempted to have a personal relationship with God. Never thought it was possible OR practical for somebody like me. I would look at those other people and then I'd have to make fun of them or tear them down in one way or another. Fear is a curious thing.


After I got sober and started looking for a way to change this miserable existence I lived, I started having to work really hard to find my way back to God. As Rumi says:

Every
Child
Has Known God.

Not the God of names.
Not the God of don'ts.
Not the God who ever does
Anything Weird.

But the God who only knows four words
And keeps repeating them , saying,

"Come Dance With Me."

Come.

Dance.



And some days I worked very hard. And some days I worked very little. And some days I just sat in my shit and cried. And slowly but surely, I began to feel the hand of God reaching for my hand, and the thing I learned was that all I had to do was reach out a tiny little bit, and there God would be. And I began to read the poetry of people like Mary Oliver and Rumi and Gibran, and I learned a lot about God. I would sit by the ocean and watch the waves crashing and the birds that walk bravely into the surf, knowing they will find food there, no matter how high the waves. And they would scamper out and scamper back in as the tide washed up and I would laugh at the show. And I saw, one day, that I was that bird. That I was that ocean. That the love of God is the dance. And something washed over my soul. And I knew that it didn't matter if I understood the concept of God. It didn't matter what I believed. It didn't matter how I believed. The energy that runs from the rivers of Gods love to the tiny streams of the human soul runs no matter what. It is everywhere. It is vibrant. It is there no matter what I think or see or feel. And I can relax and live in the details, where God lives.

And that I must see the other people on my planet through the filter of God's love as well. And then I can stop expecting them to be anything other than what they are. Because they ARE perfect. Perfectly IMperfect. Deliberate flaws, like the ones woven into the Persian rugs, meant to remind the talented weaver that he is not God. And then I can breathe a sigh of relief, and trust that all is exactly the way it is supposed to be. That I can be a child of God and be the best me I can possibly be, and it will be enough. It will be enough.

I had some experiences this week that have nudged me into some reflection, as you can see. None of them were earthshattering (well, except to me), but the planets have lined up and it must be time for one of those shakeups that we all love so much. A lot of it has centered around my ego, in one way or another. And my heart. And it has caused me some pain, and some tears, and mostly (eventually) some joy. Because I know it is that hand of God reaching out for me one more time.

Reaching for me, saying, Come. Dance.

Sunday Sun

Chimney Rock, NC. This is where they shot a good portion of the movie, Last of the Mohicans
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


A beautiful day with temps close to freaking 80 degrees. Gorgeous. I spent most of it laying around the couch on a heating pad. I was online off and on, did some Nano writing, then tried to get outside and move some...having back spasms that make it hard to do much of anything.

I have had a quiet and restful day. Not inspired to write much, and then I read the entry for November 8th in my book called Simple Abundance~ A Daybook of Comfort and Joy...by Sarah Ban Breathnach. The entry today is called Everyday Life is the Prayer. Here it is:

"Some women know they pray. Other women think they don't because they aren't down on their knees morning and night. But they're up in the dark with sick children, visiting an elderly parent on thei lunch hour, supporting the dreams of those they love with with their work, helping a friend bear grief or rejoice, nourishing bodies and souls. This,too,is prayer.

For whether we realize it or not, with every breath, with every heartbeat, women pray. We pray with desire, longing,hunger, thirst, sighs, remorse, regret. We pray with disappointment, discouragement, despair, disbelief. We pray with anger, rage, jealousy, envy. We pray with pleasure, contentment, happiness, exultation, joy. We pray with gratefulness, acknowledgment, appreciation, acceptance, relief. We pray when we comfort, cheer, console. We pray when we laugh. We pray when we cry. We pray when we work and play. We pray when we make love or make a meal. We pray when we create and when we admire creation. One way or another, we pray. Everyday life IS the prayer. How we conduct it, celebrate it, consecrate it. ..."


This really got me thinking. This short excerpt from the words for today holds me enthralled....it holds my life to a higher standard. It celebrates life. It makes me partners with God on so many levels. It gives great value and immense grace to the lives we lead. When Meister Eckart said...If the only prayer you said was "Thank YOU" it would suffice...I began to think of my relationship in the Universe as a gift from and to my Creator. When I thought of myself as a gift, my value increased in my own eyes. When I think of prayer as conversation in every day life...why it opens all sort of possibilities to me!

Love is the dialect of the Divine. When we reach out to one another, when we care for one another...when we make our lives an arena for service in this world, then and only then are we truly dancing the cosmic dance. I dance with God. God dances with me. And then I am able to know love. (I sound like Rumi...or Hafiz...lol) And this, I think, is prayer. A whole body conversation with the Divine, a dance, a golden leaf, floating down on the breeze and falling falling falling.



Namaste.

All Hallow's Eve, October 30, 2009

Monsoon weather here...relatively warm and pouring rain. The front yard looks like a rice paddy, creeks are overflowing their banks, and all everybody wants to do is sleep. I keep losing my satellite signal and am having a hard time downloading sites or pictures. It's very annoying.

Tonight we will go to the home of a friend and have chili and dogs and I'm taking all the stuff to make Mexican Hot Chocolate. It's a wonderful concoction of chocolate, almonds and vanilla...piping hot and finished off in a blender to make it all frothy and good. I have some wonderful memories of early sobriety all mixed up in Mexican hot chocolate...

Husbandman is feeling a little under the weather...bit of a scratchy throat. Think I'll make some french onion soup for lunch. We had a late breakfast as we slept in, so I still have time, even though it's almost noon already. There are some horrendous bugs making the rounds in this part of the country. I keep faithfully taking my echinaca and goldenseal and Vitamin C and D. So far (knock wood) it has missed me. I know personally at least 6 people that are sick though. yikes! A couple have landed in hospital emergency rooms. There seems to be a lot of pneumonia and bronchitis attached to this bug. Neither of us get the flu vaccines, so...we'll see.

It sounds like maybe the rain has stopped for a minute. last night when I was driving to the meeting it was coming down so fast and furious that I had the wipers on full tilt and slowed the car down to about 15 miles per hour. It was yucky out there. I have a few more chores to do when I get off here, and need to get that soup started. I wanted to stop in early becasue I suspect we'll be out a little late tonight...

I'm grateful to have friends who do fun stuff. I'm grateful I'm not one of those people whose life is over because they don't drink anymore. The truth of it is that when I stopped pouring booze into this hole in my face and deadening my heart, my life began. I have done more fun things sober than I ever did drinking. When I opened my soul to joy...everything shifted.

I'm going to try to post my picture again on this post, but if it won't, it won't. lol I finished the autumnal wreath I was making, but I wanted to post the Halloween wreath I had made for my daughter-in-law a few years ago,...because it seems apropos.

Weather weather everywhere...Grateful to be inside where it's warm and dry.


Happy weekend to all you spooks and goblins...




Namaste.

Saturday in the rain...

This picture is entitled "JOY".

I can feel that....the joy oozes out of vibrant colors. Joy is a companion of mine these days...and it sneaks up on me sometimes. Sometimes it is a subtle joy and sometimes it's a shout-out-loud joy.

The coolest thing about living a life of joy, is that you are always making exciting discoveries. Certain music evokes joy in my heart, like Handel's "Water Music". And "Suite for flute and jazz piano" which I adore. Sometimes it's a painting, or an old carefully crocheted doily that someones great grandmother made. Sometimes it's the blue of the sky. A few days ago I was sitting in the car waiting to leave when I saw a shooting star. I am always awed by those things. The sound of children laughing brings on a rash of joy for me. The velvety feel of a small puppys ears or the smell of lavender. The intricate dance of words in a poem or crafted into a book... Things that are somehow connected to my feelings and trigger a reaction almost every time I encounter them. It amazes me always the way the human mind works.

It's nearing the end of another day here on the Prairie. I have to get up early to go to a meeting and I am tired from a full day. I have a guest slumbering in the room next to me here, and Ifeel blessed to be able to provide a respite from time to time.

I have cats sleeping on my desk, doggies snoring at my feet. All well with the world...


Namaste.

Freedom Friday...

Blessings were abundant today. They probably always are, but I choose to not see them sometimes...to otherwise engage the committee in my head in all sorts of egocentric activities.
When I can step outside myself, when I can shift my perception just a tad, I can see the overflowing blessings in life.

Today I was blessed to watch a newcomer have a lightbulb moment, and in the blink of an eye, become willing to go to any lengths to live a new way. Today I was blessed to be in a meeting where all the people at my end of the table must have taken their sillypills before leaving the house this morning. We were giggling and acting silly and laughing out loud and almost disrupting the meeting. AND IT FELT SO GOOD... the newbie said, I haven't laughed this much since I quit drinking. Breathless, wheezy, pee your pants, kind of laughing. And I thought, Ah...this is it. This is Happy, Joyous and Free !!! It's an amazing thing, the way laughter changes a person's demeanor. The crinkly eyes, the red cheeks, the breathless paryoxsms that make you laugh even more. The snorting, the hiccuping, the things that you can't control. And today, I am free to be silly. I don't have to police my every word or action, afraid of doing the wrong thing and having the wrong person see it. I can laugh, and feel the joy welling up in my soul and spilling out of my mouth and eyes.

This is good stuff. Exhausting, but good to know that we "...are not a glum lot. We absolutely insist on enjoying life."

May you enjoy your life until water leaks ut of all your orifices.

Namaste