Today has been all about friends—amazing, incredible friends.
This morning, I got some troubling news. Wasn’t exactly unexpected. Had sensed it for a while—a long while. But sometimes you’re able to fool yourself into believing one thing when reality is staring you in the face.
Anyhow, my girlfriend who I came to Atlantic City with earlier this week, proved a great listener—always is, but especially since we’ve been here. We know each other well. Know when something is wrong…or right. Don’t need to be told—just know. This morning, she did what we do best for one another…she listened.
A bit later, another close friend decided to stay by my side for a good portion of the day, sensing I needed the company—he was right. We strolled the Boardwalk, exploring the many shops, picking up little souvenirs for treasured friends who were on our minds.
We talked about life. How there are those who are intrinsically jealous. Neither of us understands nor are we jealous people. We spoke of our philosophies, likes, dislikes, relationships. I appreciate how my friends and I feel comfortable enough to share anything with one another, not worried that the other might be offended.
It felt good to spend quality time with those who mean the most to me. To know that we have the other’s back. While talking with my girlfriend earlier, I mentioned how I didn’t want to trouble her or infringe on her time. She looked me in the eye and said what I would have had she uttered those words to me. That she’s always there for me. That I never infringe on her time. That no matter what, she prioritizes me…our relationship…what we offer one another.
Seeing the look on her face and hearing the sincerity in her voice, I choked up, knowing that she meant what she said. It felt good to feel so loved. So valued. And the friend who walked the Boardwalk with me uttered the same sentiments later in the day….
Yeah…today has been all about friends—amazing, incredible friends who went the extra mile to not only put a smile back on my face but also infuse one in my heart
Friday, April 30, 3011
Expect the unexpected. I often blog about going with the flow. Not attempting to force one’s will on a situation, instead, allowing it to play out the way it was intended.
Yesterday, I blogged about how this trip east for me began with my girlfriend and me staying at an absolute dive of a locale, despite it being a reputable hotel chain. We hadn’t expected our trip to begin that way, but…then…who does. Did we get upset? No. We simply laughed it off. Of course, realizing that the hotel chain wouldn’t want its reputation soiled, we took steps to make them aware of the situation so they can make necessary changes.
Since we changed hotels, we’ve opted to go with the flow. Yes, we’ve been busy—very—tis the nature of this trip. But we haven’t stressed about being busy or piled more on our plates than we’re capable of handling. Instead, we’ve taken the approach that we’ll prioritize things in the proper order, meaning, we won’t let the extraneous get in the way of what we want/need to get accomplished while here.
Adopting this mentality, I came to realize something I didn’t think I would. The unexpected (the good kind) is occurring so often, that it’s almost becoming the expected. And frankly, I like how things are playing out. The doors of opportunity, which are being opened. The connections I’m making. The fact I’m not stressing out. And most of all, I’m learning to expect the unexpected with open arms.
Thursday, April 29, 2011
Early this morning, my girlfriend and I checked out of the major hotel we were staying at and into a different one. The change of venue couldn’t have come quick enough. For the three days we had been at the first hotel, we put up with horrible conditions: black mold, leaking window frames, rats in the ceiling, mice in the bathroom, pealing paint, suspicious stains on the carpet and the list goes on and on.
Ew!
So why did we put up where we were staying instead of relocating hotels? Because we knew that we would do so today anyway to meet up with the group of friends who were meeting us here. This is the first time ever that this girlfriend and I have had the opportunity to spend such uninterrupted quality time together. And although our accommodations were sorely lacking, we tried to focus on the time we had with one another.
That we did. And today, we checked out, happy to leave that dive in our wake. But have we forgotten? No. We took photos of all the problems and will contact corporate about the mess that hotel is in, confident that they would want to know how their name is being represented.
In the meantime, my girlfriend and I have met up with the rest of our friends in a different hotel that’s clean and well maintained and are having a good time, compartmentalizing where we had been staying, until after this trip is over when we’ll give it the proper attention it needs.
Ew!
So why did we put up where we were staying instead of relocating hotels? Because we knew that we would do so today anyway to meet up with the group of friends who were meeting us here. This is the first time ever that this girlfriend and I have had the opportunity to spend such uninterrupted quality time together. And although our accommodations were sorely lacking, we tried to focus on the time we had with one another.
That we did. And today, we checked out, happy to leave that dive in our wake. But have we forgotten? No. We took photos of all the problems and will contact corporate about the mess that hotel is in, confident that they would want to know how their name is being represented.
In the meantime, my girlfriend and I have met up with the rest of our friends in a different hotel that’s clean and well maintained and are having a good time, compartmentalizing where we had been staying, until after this trip is over when we’ll give it the proper attention it needs.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Sitting in the hot tub earlier this evening, my girlfriend and I happened upon a number of folks. One thing led to another, and we began talking about public education.
Each of us comes from different states, and thus we have different perspectives on how our country is doing with public education. We discussed how, overall, our government is…and isn’t…the whole education thing. Then we discussed how our individual states are and aren’t addressing public education woes.
It was interesting to hear each person’s perspective on education. How diverse each of our states handles it. Then we went on to talk about how education is handled in other countries. It was then we stood in agreement that overall, the United States is far outranking the rest of the world when it comes to education.
Just about then, a man came around, informing us that the pool area was closing. Everyone got out of the hot tub and dried off. Pausing to say our good-byes, we expressed how wonderful it had been to share our separate knowledge and to compare our thoughts, having our discussion end on the positive note that the US is doing a good job—over all—with education.
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Currently, I’m with one of my best girlfriends here on the east coast. We’re catching up with one another before everyone else will begin arriving and our individual schedules will become insanely hectic on Thursday. But until then, my girlfriend and I are marveling over how the time of day matters not to us right now. Nor does the weather outdoors. Just as it doesn’t matter if we eat actual meals. I always travel with what my friends and family refer to as squirrel food—nuts, yogurt-covered raisins, plantains and candy. My girlfriend has contributed dark chocolate-covered espresso beans to the mix, which between that and lots of water to remain hydrated, we’re having a marvelous time grazing on our nibbles, eating one big meal a day and spending the entire rest of our time doing nothing other than catching up with one another, incredulous over just how wonderful it is to have this privilege to spend such quality time with one another.
We do have another friend and his wife arriving tomorrow. But for now, it’s just the two of us—my girlfriend and me—the dynamic duo, reveling in it being…just…us.
We do have another friend and his wife arriving tomorrow. But for now, it’s just the two of us—my girlfriend and me—the dynamic duo, reveling in it being…just…us.
Monday, April 26, 2011
Fifty years ago, flying was a privilege, a rarity. But then it became commonplace to the point that folks took it for granted. Then came 9-11, and with it air travel became complicated. Nowadays, by the time folks get on planes, most are stressed, and the last thing many do is take the time to appreciate what a joy flying can be.
Take me for example. Today, I flew from the west to the east coast. I had to rise at three in the morning to get to my flight on time and then hurry up and wait at the airport after check in. Like many, by the time I took my seat on the plane, I, too, was feeling a bit stressed, not to mention tired. But things improved when I got the window seat.
Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve loved looking out the windows of airplanes. Seeing how the clouds we’re above sometime looks like pulled taffy, always makes my mouth water. Or when the clouds are so thick and white like oversized cotton balls that they make me transform into that five-year old little girl who believed that if she jumped out of the plane, she’d have the most fun bouncing from one fluffy cloud to another. Most of all, I’m fascinated when looking down at the lay of the land while flying. How the topography of the land changes so radically. Also, I’m intrigued to the point of not being able to take my eyes off the way individual parcels of land interconnect to create an intricate and oft convoluted patchwork quilt.
These are the things I looked at while flying today…when I wasn’t attempting to get some sleep. Every once n a while, I’d pull my attention back to other passengers on the plane and was saddened though not too surprised to see that I was the only one glancing out the window with such glee. Most others were attached to their electronic devices watching movies, etc. to take the time to appreciate what a joy flying can be. Sunday, April 24, 2011
Happy Easter! I hope everyone, whether they celebrated or not, had a great weekend, a relaxing time and had a chance to slow things down enough to…just…breathe. (smiles)
It’s been a hectic past few weeks for me. Today, I’ve spent getting ready to head to the east coast at the crack of dawn tomorrow for the next week. Can’t wait to reunite with my girlfriend while there! We’ll have three full days all to ourselves to relax and catch up with one another before our friends begin arriving from all over the world.
Though I know my upcoming week will be super busy with me getting very little sleep, catching up with everyone, I’m soooo looking forward to being able to see my friends again, most of whom I haven’t seen in at least seven months! These are dear friends who’ve been beyond supportive of me, worrying over my surgery and coaching me through my recovery. As such, they can’t wait to actually lay eyes on me and see for themselves that I’m back to my old self, full of abundant energy and revving to go the long haul.
To me, I could care less what the weather will be like where we’ll be. Sure it would be great if it were nice so we could go outside and explore without freezing, but that’s not important. What does matter is that for seven glorious days, I’m going to be surrounded by a host of friends who matter the absolute most to me, and I can’t wait!
Friday, April 22, 2011
One of the things my youngest son and I get a kick out of is viewing pictures of baby animals. Not any specific species, any and all will do. On some of our weekly dates with one another, we’ll pull up “cutest baby animal” photos from the Internet, oooing and ahhhing over them. And frankly, there’s something irresistible about listening to a high school boy squealing with delight as he gushes over how cute a baby animal is.
I’ve done this same thing with friends and lo and behold, they have the same reactions. The normally in control adults turn into instant piles of emotional goo, smiling and ogling over all the adorable baby animals.
Of course, not all the images are cute to the point of making the viewer want to cuddle the baby, but the majority, yeah, they’re enough to make most hearts melt. So why is that? Why is it that folks just fall to pieces head over heels in love with baby animals? Their cuteness? Cuddle factor? I’d say that most, when viewing pictures of baby animals resort to talking as if they’re interacting with a human infant—baby talk flows and nonsensical sentences replace once recognizable speech.
If you haven’t taken the opportunity to glimpse some of the photos I’m referring to, here’s your chance. Simply click on the following link.
http://www.google.com/search?client=safari&rls=en&q=cutest+baby+animals&oe=UTF-8&um=1&ie=UTF-8&tbm=isch&source=og&sa=N&hl=en&tab=wi&biw=1175&bih=936
I defy you to make it halfway through viewing them without oooing and ahhhing at least a few times. Thursday, April 21, 2011
What is it with those who use others? Of late, I have several friends who are embroiled in messes where their kind hearts, good will and generosity have been so blatantly misused as to be beyond insulting.
Speaking with one of my friends, who are being used, earlier this evening, I asked aloud how users live with themselves? If they have consciences? Do they feel guilt? Or that they’re using? Or do they feel some sense of entitlement, like the world itself owes them?
My next questions stemmed from, what would the world owe one who leaves a trail of despair, usage and hurt in their wake? The world and none in it owes these people—anything. In fact, I believe it’s up to us to band together and stop others from using folks. Or at the very least, we need to make it as much of a challenge as possible for them to do so.
I find it a travesty that folks, good-hearted, hard-working individuals, end up having to second guess if they should help others, having been so burned by users. It makes my blood boil when I hear of how some are capable of near destroying those who go out on a limb to show them generosity. Who do they think they are? What gives them the right? Why don’t they find fault with their abusive actions?
I don’t get it. I honestly don’t get how folks can use one another in this manner. And as I told my friend earlier tonight, I’m beyond grateful that I’m not wired to be a user. Thank you, no! I’d rather work my rear off and have nothing than to take advantage of the generosity of another.
Speaking with one of my friends, who are being used, earlier this evening, I asked aloud how users live with themselves? If they have consciences? Do they feel guilt? Or that they’re using? Or do they feel some sense of entitlement, like the world itself owes them?
My next questions stemmed from, what would the world owe one who leaves a trail of despair, usage and hurt in their wake? The world and none in it owes these people—anything. In fact, I believe it’s up to us to band together and stop others from using folks. Or at the very least, we need to make it as much of a challenge as possible for them to do so.
I find it a travesty that folks, good-hearted, hard-working individuals, end up having to second guess if they should help others, having been so burned by users. It makes my blood boil when I hear of how some are capable of near destroying those who go out on a limb to show them generosity. Who do they think they are? What gives them the right? Why don’t they find fault with their abusive actions?
I don’t get it. I honestly don’t get how folks can use one another in this manner. And as I told my friend earlier tonight, I’m beyond grateful that I’m not wired to be a user. Thank you, no! I’d rather work my rear off and have nothing than to take advantage of the generosity of another.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
I had one of those surreal events happen today, the kind that make you stop and reconsider if what you thought was happening was actually so. Driving to pick my son up from school, I approached a large intersection. The light in my direction was green with the cars up ahead of me, several of them, already having made their way through the intersection. Then, from off to our right, a car proceeded into the intersection, despite their light being red. Thankfully, the car in front of me saw what was happening with enough time to slam on their brakes to avoid collision. Likewise, I hit my brakes.
Sitting there, our cars stopped, the driver in front of me and I looked at where the red-light running vehicle had come from, then back into the intersection, and off to our left where the driver had continued, making a turn. Regardless that I knew that our light was green, the absolute nonchalance with which the driver had run their red light, made me take a second look at ours.
Yup, still green.
I shot one last look at the offending vehicle, locking on its driver who was absolutely clueless as to the chaos they’d caused, obliviously putting along, as if they were the only one on the road.
The car in front of me began accelerating, and I followed suit. And again, although I was certain my light was and had been green, I had to look up at it on last time. Confirming that it was green, I glimpsed back at the signal in the other direction, wondering if perhaps it was also green, this despite my having noted that the cars in that direction were waiting patiently behind their line, indicating they had a red light.
Nope, theirs is definitely red. Hmmm….
Leaving the intersection and near miss in my wake, I found myself chuckling at how odd the situation had been. That there had been no honking of horns. No screeching tires. No swerving cars—wasn’t necessary. No mouthing of, “I’m sorry,” by the driver of the red light runner. And perhaps strangest of all, that the offending driver wasn’t on a cell phone, reading a newspaper, eating, shaving, or any host of other things that could have taken their mind off their driving. In fact, they didn’t even have passengers who could have distracted them.
Everything was fine, my heart rate eventually resumed its normal pace, and life carried on without incident, my arriving at my son’s school about ten minutes later and sharing with him what had happened. Just another case of a driver not paying attention….
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Not too long ago, I wrote about perception—how some people have a misconception of who they are, believing that they come across as one person, when in reality they are anything but. It goes without saying the problems this can create. In addition, trying to impress the reality of how a person comes across to one who has such a misconception can prove, at best, a tricky task. At worst, it may be impossible.
What about those who are at a loss for understanding who they are? When that person, though wanting to, can’t seem to figure out their purpose, how they should act or who they are at their core? How can you help a person struggling with this? Can you help them? Or is this something they must come to terms with entirely on their own?
If you do attempt to help one who is uncertain about who they are, do you run the risk of having them feel you’re coercing them into being your “creation”—that which you would like them to be? Or will they be open to wisdoms you share as they become receptive to more pertinent information?
And then there’s the individual who, secure in who they are, do a 180-degree turn, abandoning who they are, nothing else in mind, stumbling and bumbling over who they should be. This can come as a direct or indirect result of something said to them by another that so rocks their foundation as to make them unsure. And if this happens, does it mean the person was insecure with their self-identity to begin with?
I don’t believe there are any clear answers to these queries. Perusing each leads to a host of new questions, many of which may never be answered. But all is not lost, for there is one technique that proves useful. People need to be granted the freedom to gain better self-knowledge through the actual acts of living their lives, having a multitude of interactions with others and gaining better insight as they continue to evolve. It is only though these motions that one can hope to have an accurate self-perception, cognizant of who they are and secure in that self-identity.
What about those who are at a loss for understanding who they are? When that person, though wanting to, can’t seem to figure out their purpose, how they should act or who they are at their core? How can you help a person struggling with this? Can you help them? Or is this something they must come to terms with entirely on their own?
If you do attempt to help one who is uncertain about who they are, do you run the risk of having them feel you’re coercing them into being your “creation”—that which you would like them to be? Or will they be open to wisdoms you share as they become receptive to more pertinent information?
And then there’s the individual who, secure in who they are, do a 180-degree turn, abandoning who they are, nothing else in mind, stumbling and bumbling over who they should be. This can come as a direct or indirect result of something said to them by another that so rocks their foundation as to make them unsure. And if this happens, does it mean the person was insecure with their self-identity to begin with?
I don’t believe there are any clear answers to these queries. Perusing each leads to a host of new questions, many of which may never be answered. But all is not lost, for there is one technique that proves useful. People need to be granted the freedom to gain better self-knowledge through the actual acts of living their lives, having a multitude of interactions with others and gaining better insight as they continue to evolve. It is only though these motions that one can hope to have an accurate self-perception, cognizant of who they are and secure in that self-identity.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Recently, a lot of “stuff” has been swirling around me. Much of that has elicited change. Some of it has involved finding closure to old wounds while opening the door to new beginnings that will hopefully herald in novel chapters of enthusiasm, enlightenment and connectedness. Still more has challenged me to recognize that I’m in a position where if I want to further grow, I’ll need to display a willing spirit to allow others to push me beyond my comfort zones to evoke that growth. Other parts have instilled in me a heightened determination that in order to help the others involved, I’ll need to remain steadfast in my conviction.
I’m not viewing any of these as deterrents or as hindrances, but rather, I’m accepting them as what they are, messages, signals and gifts. Right now, I’m being given the rare opportunity to expand my horizons through gained knowledge. My recent challenges are the bearers of new wisdom. If I allow them, they will transcend what I’ve known to be true while allowing me the chance to grow to new heights I hadn’t thought possible, and, if I’m completely honest, heights that until now, I wasn’t prepared to reach.
But this process has not been an easy one, coming with a cost of my being exhausted. Personal growth often has that affect on a person. It’s had me constantly addressing my need to integrate unconscious motive with conscious intent if I want to further self-actualize on my life’s journey. So, I’ve been taking a hard look at he depths of myself, these relationships, their foundations and am tapping into the wellspring of inner energy I possess while remaining intent on creating a new sense of solidarity in the aforementioned relationships and also in myself.
I’m not viewing any of these as deterrents or as hindrances, but rather, I’m accepting them as what they are, messages, signals and gifts. Right now, I’m being given the rare opportunity to expand my horizons through gained knowledge. My recent challenges are the bearers of new wisdom. If I allow them, they will transcend what I’ve known to be true while allowing me the chance to grow to new heights I hadn’t thought possible, and, if I’m completely honest, heights that until now, I wasn’t prepared to reach.
But this process has not been an easy one, coming with a cost of my being exhausted. Personal growth often has that affect on a person. It’s had me constantly addressing my need to integrate unconscious motive with conscious intent if I want to further self-actualize on my life’s journey. So, I’ve been taking a hard look at he depths of myself, these relationships, their foundations and am tapping into the wellspring of inner energy I possess while remaining intent on creating a new sense of solidarity in the aforementioned relationships and also in myself.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
This weekend, though originally I thought it would be a relatively stress-free one, turned out to be anything but! Things began to unravel towards the middle of last week. By the time Friday rolled around, well, I was cinching up my seatbelt and preparing for a bumpy ride, which is what I got.
A host of different situations and relationships all went a bit haywire—all at once, yet having nothing to do with one another. It’s a tad nerve-wracking when that happens. At least, I think it is. Anyhow, I did the only thing I could, I stated my piece, heard out the others and then took a step back from each situation to allow things to play out as they were meant to.
Being a type-A person, who likes to have everything work out all neat and tidy, it takes a ton of energy for me to just hang low and let thing go at their own pace. But, that’s what I did. I sucked up my desire to help things along and took more of a neutral stance. At the time, doing so proved exhausting—quite. But in the long run, I’m glad that’s how I opted to handle each situation, for in the end, most all of those situations have run their course in keeping with how life’s challenges have a natural rhythm and flow. And the ones that haven’t yet resolved…they’re getting there. It’s just gonna take a little longer. And I’m okay with that.
A host of different situations and relationships all went a bit haywire—all at once, yet having nothing to do with one another. It’s a tad nerve-wracking when that happens. At least, I think it is. Anyhow, I did the only thing I could, I stated my piece, heard out the others and then took a step back from each situation to allow things to play out as they were meant to.
Being a type-A person, who likes to have everything work out all neat and tidy, it takes a ton of energy for me to just hang low and let thing go at their own pace. But, that’s what I did. I sucked up my desire to help things along and took more of a neutral stance. At the time, doing so proved exhausting—quite. But in the long run, I’m glad that’s how I opted to handle each situation, for in the end, most all of those situations have run their course in keeping with how life’s challenges have a natural rhythm and flow. And the ones that haven’t yet resolved…they’re getting there. It’s just gonna take a little longer. And I’m okay with that.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Negativity….
I’ve dedicated this site to positive material, interactions and philosophies. Why? Because frankly, I wanted there to be a place in the world where one could count on there always being something positive.
Not sure about the rest of you, but I can take a lot…an awful lot…but…what gets to me faster than anything is negativity. Also, those who act the fun sponge in life, sucking any and all enthusiasm out of a situation.
Recently, I’ve found myself in a multitude of unrelated situations such as these. When I awoke this morning, after my normal amount of sleep, I felt as if I hadn’t slept at all. Why, cause as each day that passes with this negativity—the stuff I’ve been trying to shake off but is clinging tight—surrounding me, I get more and more worn down until now, I’m literally exhausted.
Why is that? Why is negativity, or more accurately, trying to not have it affect us, soooo overwhelming? Why does it leach the energy from us, leaving us feeling hollow inside?
I’m not complaining or implying that I’m going through any more than others endure, for I know…we all have “stuff” to deal with. That’s part of life. I’m just expressing some thoughts in the hopes that it will make things seem…clearer to me. That perhaps writing about this will help lighten some of the heavy load I’m feeling, ya know, like how it helps to talk about things that are troubling one’s self. And if anyone has their two cents worth that they’d like to add, then by all means, comment away. J
There are those who feel compelled to walk around with a dark could over their head, and in doing so, they try to drag others into their drama. Me…that’s not how I live my life. Not saying the off-cast negativity from others doesn’t affect me. It does, as I’ve mentioned here. I just wish others didn’t feel the need to cast their dark clouds wherever they go.
Friday, April 15, 2011
There are times in life when nothing goes as expected. When this used to happen, it would throw me into a state of utter disarray, not knowing what to do, desperate to exact my will and get things “back on track.” I wasted a lot of years and expended a ton of energy trying to do the latter, only to be utterly frustrated when things ended up going the way they were supposed to instead of the way I had expected, hoped or wanted them to.
So does it still throw me when things go all awry? Yes. But do I waste valuable time getting all upset and trying the impossible—to force my will on things? No. So what changed? Why did I change? I suppose I’d finally just had enough. Enough of being beyond frustrated. Enough of feeling exhausted and beaten down, when I should have been going with the flow, having faith that things would turn out as they were supposed to.
Right now, I’m caught up in one of those whirlwinds where nothing is going as planned. Things that can go wrong…are, as Murphy’s Law is in full swing. But do I feel exhausted? Beat down? Like I’m fighting an uphill battle? No. Why not? Cause, though it’s surprising even me, I’m remaining ultra calm in the knowledge that most of these events are completely outside my control. That I have taken the steps necessary to express how I feel, and that now, things are in the hands of others. And I must confess, the fact that I’m so calm about all of this, the having no control over these situations, is surprising me.
Though I expected to be calmer and more accepting than I used to, my current reaction is…weird…I mean, really and truly odd. Why? Cause I’m not just trying to convince myself that I’m calm, as I usually do, but I am calm, honestly calm, down to my core.
So what does this mean? Beats me! I feel like I’m just along for the ride. And wherever that may take me…whatever the end result, for the first time in my life, I’m completely at ease with wherever may come.
So does it still throw me when things go all awry? Yes. But do I waste valuable time getting all upset and trying the impossible—to force my will on things? No. So what changed? Why did I change? I suppose I’d finally just had enough. Enough of being beyond frustrated. Enough of feeling exhausted and beaten down, when I should have been going with the flow, having faith that things would turn out as they were supposed to.
Right now, I’m caught up in one of those whirlwinds where nothing is going as planned. Things that can go wrong…are, as Murphy’s Law is in full swing. But do I feel exhausted? Beat down? Like I’m fighting an uphill battle? No. Why not? Cause, though it’s surprising even me, I’m remaining ultra calm in the knowledge that most of these events are completely outside my control. That I have taken the steps necessary to express how I feel, and that now, things are in the hands of others. And I must confess, the fact that I’m so calm about all of this, the having no control over these situations, is surprising me.
Though I expected to be calmer and more accepting than I used to, my current reaction is…weird…I mean, really and truly odd. Why? Cause I’m not just trying to convince myself that I’m calm, as I usually do, but I am calm, honestly calm, down to my core.
So what does this mean? Beats me! I feel like I’m just along for the ride. And wherever that may take me…whatever the end result, for the first time in my life, I’m completely at ease with wherever may come.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
In my writing critique group the other night, I shared how I sometimes write blogs here to hone my writing skills while working on humor, profound thoughts or real-life stuff that the majority can relate to. I went on to say how grateful I am for the valuable feedback I get from those who make comments, for the opportunity it provides for me to know if I’ve hit my mark with my writing.
Using my blog to hone my writing skills is only part of why I write what I do here. The rest…well…it falls under the category of any and everything, which is pretty much what my mind is spinning on hyper speed with any given moment. For those who know me personally, they can attest to this as well as to the speed with which I speak, needing to get out all that is on my mind, even as more crowds it.
Some can keep up with me. Others, intimidated, slink away. Still more, stand in stunned silence, wondering how the heck I do “that.” And me…? Well, I take it all in stride, knowing nothing other than the way I am and how my particular brain works. And the creative side of me…that makes the rest of me appear as if I’m functioning at sloth speed.
Combining what comes most naturally to me, I let my mind run free with a myriad of thoughts and philosophies, allowing them to twist and turn themselves round and round in my mind, touching on first one subject and then another until in the end, what I end up with is a host of intricately interwoven subjects that seemingly shouldn’t fit together, but do.
In keeping with the way my mind works, what I regurgitate here in this blog is but a small glimpse, a miniscule sliver, of what’s parading around my mind. Yet, if one looks closely, they’ll see common threads that run amongst my random blogs that tie the seemingly disjointed thoughts, principles and realities together into something that makes people wonder….
The fact that my readers do wonder, that I’m able to evoke thirst in them…that’s a natural high for me. I get such a kick out of reading the comments folks make, some connecting with my thoughts, others perplexed by them, still others disagreeing entirely. It’s rewarding to see how my inner notions affect others and if how I’ve conveyed them through my writing has allowed me to hit my mark. And so, just as I expressed to my writing critique group, I will pause for a moment to express my gratitude for the part each of you plays in helping me hone my writing skills.
Using my blog to hone my writing skills is only part of why I write what I do here. The rest…well…it falls under the category of any and everything, which is pretty much what my mind is spinning on hyper speed with any given moment. For those who know me personally, they can attest to this as well as to the speed with which I speak, needing to get out all that is on my mind, even as more crowds it.
Some can keep up with me. Others, intimidated, slink away. Still more, stand in stunned silence, wondering how the heck I do “that.” And me…? Well, I take it all in stride, knowing nothing other than the way I am and how my particular brain works. And the creative side of me…that makes the rest of me appear as if I’m functioning at sloth speed.
Combining what comes most naturally to me, I let my mind run free with a myriad of thoughts and philosophies, allowing them to twist and turn themselves round and round in my mind, touching on first one subject and then another until in the end, what I end up with is a host of intricately interwoven subjects that seemingly shouldn’t fit together, but do.
In keeping with the way my mind works, what I regurgitate here in this blog is but a small glimpse, a miniscule sliver, of what’s parading around my mind. Yet, if one looks closely, they’ll see common threads that run amongst my random blogs that tie the seemingly disjointed thoughts, principles and realities together into something that makes people wonder….
The fact that my readers do wonder, that I’m able to evoke thirst in them…that’s a natural high for me. I get such a kick out of reading the comments folks make, some connecting with my thoughts, others perplexed by them, still others disagreeing entirely. It’s rewarding to see how my inner notions affect others and if how I’ve conveyed them through my writing has allowed me to hit my mark. And so, just as I expressed to my writing critique group, I will pause for a moment to express my gratitude for the part each of you plays in helping me hone my writing skills.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
There’s something I find myself wondering about on a fairly regular basis. Not sure if others also consider it, so I thought I throw it out there.
I run a mountain trail, daily, that’s right by our house. And although this particular trail isn’t ultra remote or anything, being traversed by a high volume of people and their pets, there are regular wild animal sightings. After all, the trail is off the beaten path where nature has free reign.
As this trail is a challenging one, most who frequent it do so with the intent of actually working out, knowing that they will build up a sweat in the process. As such, people don’t aim to dress to impress, although, I have seen some rather odd choices of clothing for navigating a tough mountain trail, not the least of which are high heels. Yes, actual stiletto high heels. But I digress….
I chalk the heels and odd outfits, not quite in keeping with working out, to people not knowing any better, hoping that the next time round, their choices will be more suiting to their purpose. But what I don’t get are the women who, aware that they are in and amongst nature, douse themselves with what often seems like an entire bottle of perfume before heading to the mountain.
I’m sure you know of the ones I’m speaking of. You can smell these women at least a quarter of a mile away. I encountered one such woman the other day. Up ahead of me by about a quarter mile, the air was beyond thick with her perfume—downright choked out by it. Though she was going at a good clip, I was a bit faster. Hoping and praying that I’d pass her before growing too lightheaded from her perfume overdose, I quickened my pace. Of course, doing so made me breather harder. Sucking in her perfume trail, the fragrance burned down my throat and made me cough.
By the time I was about a hundred yards behind and downwind of her, a gentle breeze had me nearly asphyxiate by her perfume overdose, and my eyes began to water. So, not only was I attempting to run uphill, something I’m not very fond of, but also I was sucking in so much perfume that I wondered at what point it might prove unhealthy for my lungs. And then, when my eyes began to water, my focus hazed a bit, making it a challenge to not trip over rocks or to see rattlesnakes had there been any.
Despite my dilemma, I knew that if I just hung in there and quickened my pace a bit more, I could soon end my misery. So, that’s what I did through an odd combination of holding my breath and trying, only when absolutely necessary, to only breathe in through my mouth so as to minimize the affect of her perfume on me. Just as I pulled even with the woman, I had to take a breath of air. Not that I wanted to, mind you. But I had to, as I was working hard to pass her in the least amount of time possible. The second I took my breath, I cursed being a critter that needed oxygen and seriously questioned if there was any oxygen left in what I had breathed in, sure that the off-cast fumes from her perfume overdose might well have sucked it all out of the air.
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
There are times that sadness surrounds us. This seems to be cyclic, and thank goodness it ebbs and flows, for I don’t know that we could endure if it lasted infinitum.
Within the last few days, I’ve had a heavy heart for two friends. One just shared how they’d been savagely beaten as a child, the belt buckle used, carving deep horizontal grooves into their back that serve as permanent reminders of the helplessness and despair they once felt. To this day, when that individual is in a setting where voices are raised or physical violence might pose a threat, their mind flashes them back to the defenseless little boy they once were as those in charge brutalized him.
We celebrated this friend’s thirtieth birthday this past Saturday. When things got a little loud where we were at, his body began to tremble, an involuntary reaction to his past experiences. My heart broke for him, my mamma bear came out, and without hesitating, I wrapped my arms around him until his body relaxed.
Another friend, whose wife has mental issues, just informed me that his marriage is crumbling, his heart along with it. This, despite his wanting desperately to save the relationship. We talked at length about how people are only human. They can only do so much. And if only one in a relationship is willing to reach out, yet the other refuses to take the offered hand, then there’s very little that can be done to salvage the relationship.
Both these individuals apologized for “burdening” me with their troubles. Surprised, I looked at them each and, with determined sincerity, expressed how being their friend was no burden. That this is what friends do—they reach out to and help one another when the need arises. That to try to go it alone is not only silly, but makes one lose perspective and causes a sense of hopelessness to set in.
Do these events weigh heavy on my mind? Yes. Do they cause my heart to bleed for my friends? Absolutely? Do I have the slightest inclination to turn away? Never, for these same friends have been there through thick and thin for me just as I’m willing to do for them now. As I expressed to them, this is what friends that care do for one another—they make themselves available, whenever and however needed to help pull their troubled friends through rough times.
I know the “storms” my friends are enduring will prove cyclic, eventually coming to some form of closure. In the meantime, though I bear their sadness, I won’t turn away from them. That’s not in my nature. Instead, I’ll pull them close, assuring them that I’ll be right beside them until things turn around for the better.
Within the last few days, I’ve had a heavy heart for two friends. One just shared how they’d been savagely beaten as a child, the belt buckle used, carving deep horizontal grooves into their back that serve as permanent reminders of the helplessness and despair they once felt. To this day, when that individual is in a setting where voices are raised or physical violence might pose a threat, their mind flashes them back to the defenseless little boy they once were as those in charge brutalized him.
We celebrated this friend’s thirtieth birthday this past Saturday. When things got a little loud where we were at, his body began to tremble, an involuntary reaction to his past experiences. My heart broke for him, my mamma bear came out, and without hesitating, I wrapped my arms around him until his body relaxed.
Another friend, whose wife has mental issues, just informed me that his marriage is crumbling, his heart along with it. This, despite his wanting desperately to save the relationship. We talked at length about how people are only human. They can only do so much. And if only one in a relationship is willing to reach out, yet the other refuses to take the offered hand, then there’s very little that can be done to salvage the relationship.
Both these individuals apologized for “burdening” me with their troubles. Surprised, I looked at them each and, with determined sincerity, expressed how being their friend was no burden. That this is what friends do—they reach out to and help one another when the need arises. That to try to go it alone is not only silly, but makes one lose perspective and causes a sense of hopelessness to set in.
Do these events weigh heavy on my mind? Yes. Do they cause my heart to bleed for my friends? Absolutely? Do I have the slightest inclination to turn away? Never, for these same friends have been there through thick and thin for me just as I’m willing to do for them now. As I expressed to them, this is what friends that care do for one another—they make themselves available, whenever and however needed to help pull their troubled friends through rough times.
I know the “storms” my friends are enduring will prove cyclic, eventually coming to some form of closure. In the meantime, though I bear their sadness, I won’t turn away from them. That’s not in my nature. Instead, I’ll pull them close, assuring them that I’ll be right beside them until things turn around for the better.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Today marks the six-month anniversary of my surgery! Things are going well with my healing and my surgeon, just a couple of weeks back, for the first time in four and a half months, reversed his decision that additional surgery would be needed.
Thank goodness!
Not only am I a person that avoids going under the knife at all costs, but I also don’t fair well with down time. Had additional surgery been necessary, my surgeon assured me that it wouldn’t have been as involved as the first time round. When I queried if I’d still be able to run, he looked at me as if I was insane and told me a resounding, “no.” Hearing his words, after having worked so hard to resume running since my surgery made me wither inside—all that work for not.
For as long as I can remember, running has been my sense of finding inner peace. Without the ability to exact that, I feel…off, like I’m not quite…balanced or something. Aside from the physical health benefits, running makes me feel whole. Like I’m in charge of my own body. There were countless years when I was unable to run much less walk due to serious injuries. During those trying times, I felt myself wither inside much the same as happened when my surgeon told me I would likely need more surgery.
But I held firm to the faith that my body, if allowed time, would heal on its own, providing me the privilege of being able to continue with my running, training and feeling large and in charge of my physical being, which allows me to smooth down the ruffled feathers of my soul that a busy and demanding life can cause.
Being a person who is driven by meeting goals, I had set a personal one that I’d kept to myself until now. With it, I promised myself that I’d be back to my pre-surgery self, as strong as ever, by seven months after my surgery. Getting the recent good news from my surgeon, being cleared to finally travel again, and hitting my six-month anniversary, feeling as strong as I did prior to my surgery, makes me thrilled, for I feel that not only have I met my goal, working darn hard to get here, but I did so with a month to spare, which is pretty darn cool!
Thank goodness!
Not only am I a person that avoids going under the knife at all costs, but I also don’t fair well with down time. Had additional surgery been necessary, my surgeon assured me that it wouldn’t have been as involved as the first time round. When I queried if I’d still be able to run, he looked at me as if I was insane and told me a resounding, “no.” Hearing his words, after having worked so hard to resume running since my surgery made me wither inside—all that work for not.
For as long as I can remember, running has been my sense of finding inner peace. Without the ability to exact that, I feel…off, like I’m not quite…balanced or something. Aside from the physical health benefits, running makes me feel whole. Like I’m in charge of my own body. There were countless years when I was unable to run much less walk due to serious injuries. During those trying times, I felt myself wither inside much the same as happened when my surgeon told me I would likely need more surgery.
But I held firm to the faith that my body, if allowed time, would heal on its own, providing me the privilege of being able to continue with my running, training and feeling large and in charge of my physical being, which allows me to smooth down the ruffled feathers of my soul that a busy and demanding life can cause.
Being a person who is driven by meeting goals, I had set a personal one that I’d kept to myself until now. With it, I promised myself that I’d be back to my pre-surgery self, as strong as ever, by seven months after my surgery. Getting the recent good news from my surgeon, being cleared to finally travel again, and hitting my six-month anniversary, feeling as strong as I did prior to my surgery, makes me thrilled, for I feel that not only have I met my goal, working darn hard to get here, but I did so with a month to spare, which is pretty darn cool!
Sunday, April 11, 2011
My friends and I had an intriguing conversation last Friday. It was about being late. Some of us believe that with being late, there are no exceptions. But other friends shared that if the other person is also running late, and then the two folks being late sort of cancel one another out.
On the one hand, I can see their reasoning. After all, if both parties are running behind schedule, then no one would get inconvenienced, so how could it be considered rude to have run late? But on the other hand, late is late. The person themselves knows and whether they’re willing to admit it or not, they were late.
I tumbled this idea around in my head and an interesting comparison came to mind about the saying that asks if a tree falls in the middle of the forest and no one is there to hear it, did it make a sound. In my humble opinion, yes, it still made a sound. Whether or not individuals were privy to it, well…that’s irrelevant.
Some things we just have to have faith and trust in. Following one’s inner voice, the one that cautions and scolds them, is kind of like that tree falling in the middle of the forest. Why? Because regardless of if others know you were late, you’ll know.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Usually, I’m a person who likes to have things planned out. Now, that doesn’t mean I won’t forego things on my to-do list should other opportunities present themselves, cause I do and have. Being a highly goal-oriented person, however, I need some sort of direction so I’ll know where I’m headed. This works best for me…most times….
But then there are occasions when I throw carful planning and thought out the window and dive in, with the greatest anticipation, to the unknown, unexpected and unplanned. That’s how my day and night unfurled yesterday. I’ve gotta say, that by the end, I was not only exhausted, but pleasantly surprised by discoveries I had along the way, connections I made and how darned good it felt to just go with the flow instead of following any preconceived outline.
Though my experience was a positive one yesterday, I don’t believe that maintaining that kind of outlook would serve me well over the long haul. Yes, it was great to switch things up for a day/night, for I believe that we all need to break out of our normal patterns from time-to-time. But honestly, for me, having at least some sort of agenda to follow is what works best.
But then there are occasions when I throw carful planning and thought out the window and dive in, with the greatest anticipation, to the unknown, unexpected and unplanned. That’s how my day and night unfurled yesterday. I’ve gotta say, that by the end, I was not only exhausted, but pleasantly surprised by discoveries I had along the way, connections I made and how darned good it felt to just go with the flow instead of following any preconceived outline.
Though my experience was a positive one yesterday, I don’t believe that maintaining that kind of outlook would serve me well over the long haul. Yes, it was great to switch things up for a day/night, for I believe that we all need to break out of our normal patterns from time-to-time. But honestly, for me, having at least some sort of agenda to follow is what works best.
Friday, April 8, 2011
"To me, it suffices to wonder at these secrets and to attempt humbly to grasp with my mind a mere image of the lofty structure of all that there is."
—Albert Einstein
Upon a friend’s recommendation, I’ve begun reading the book Please Understand Me II, a study of human temperament, character and intelligence, written by David Keirsey. The section on rationals begins with this quote, which is how Albert Einstein ended an essay he wrote, summing up his philosophy on life while expressing his insatiable passion for science.
I love reading books or discussing with individuals subjects that make us ponder things on a deep level. About the only thing better is to learn more about the complexities of the human mind and why folks are driven to do, say, and act upon those things that they do.
Earlier today, I went out to grab a bite to eat with our youngest son. On the way there, during and on our return, we delved into the subject of perception. It began with his asking me what it feels like to be my age. Of course, he was quick to point out that he didn’t think I was old or anything, but that at his age of fifteen, he felt as though he’d lived forever. That makes him wonder what it would be like to be my age.
In answer to his question, I drew from our conversation yesterday about the Space Shuttle Challenger disaster as well as the collapse of the Twin Towers. I pointed out how, although he was alive during the falling of the Twin Towers, he was young enough to have not fully grasped that event. But that when he viewed the video of it on his smart phone yesterday, he gained far more profound meaning from the event that has since shaped the lives of how Americans view their safety.
I went on to say that being my age was a lot like this. Like my son, there have been historical events that, although I was alive at the time they occurred, it wasn’t until years and years later that I was able to fully comprehend their significance—too young or inexperienced at the time they occurred. I shared how being my age was cool, for I like to think that I’ve gained some insight along my life’s journey. And in the words of Albert Einstein, I “wonder at these secrets and attempt to humbly grasp with my mind a mere image of the lofty structure of all that there is.”
—Albert Einstein
Upon a friend’s recommendation, I’ve begun reading the book Please Understand Me II, a study of human temperament, character and intelligence, written by David Keirsey. The section on rationals begins with this quote, which is how Albert Einstein ended an essay he wrote, summing up his philosophy on life while expressing his insatiable passion for science.
I love reading books or discussing with individuals subjects that make us ponder things on a deep level. About the only thing better is to learn more about the complexities of the human mind and why folks are driven to do, say, and act upon those things that they do.
Earlier today, I went out to grab a bite to eat with our youngest son. On the way there, during and on our return, we delved into the subject of perception. It began with his asking me what it feels like to be my age. Of course, he was quick to point out that he didn’t think I was old or anything, but that at his age of fifteen, he felt as though he’d lived forever. That makes him wonder what it would be like to be my age.
In answer to his question, I drew from our conversation yesterday about the Space Shuttle Challenger disaster as well as the collapse of the Twin Towers. I pointed out how, although he was alive during the falling of the Twin Towers, he was young enough to have not fully grasped that event. But that when he viewed the video of it on his smart phone yesterday, he gained far more profound meaning from the event that has since shaped the lives of how Americans view their safety.
I went on to say that being my age was a lot like this. Like my son, there have been historical events that, although I was alive at the time they occurred, it wasn’t until years and years later that I was able to fully comprehend their significance—too young or inexperienced at the time they occurred. I shared how being my age was cool, for I like to think that I’ve gained some insight along my life’s journey. And in the words of Albert Einstein, I “wonder at these secrets and attempt to humbly grasp with my mind a mere image of the lofty structure of all that there is.”
Thursday, April 7, 2011
I find it fascinating how life goes on… Recent devastating events in Japan have rocked that country to its core, with world-wide efforts initiated to help ease Japan’s current and ongoing burdens.
Yesterday, while on my date with my youngest son, we spoke more of what’s been going on in Japan. That triggered conversations about other incidents in our somewhat recent history that left the world stunned when they occurred. One we discussed was the Space Shuttle Challenger disaster. The other was of the collapse of the Twin Towers on 9-11. As I drove along, my son, listening intently and contributing to our conversation, clicked on his smart phone and brought up videos of both those events to help him better understand their magnitude.
We discussed those historic events for a bit longer before switching to happier subjects. I shared how I’d received a call earlier that day, informing me that our oldest son and his girlfriend will be moving back to southern California from up north. Beaming, my youngest son and I discussed how great it would be to have our family closer together. How we’ve missed having our oldest son around. How the two brothers, each having grown tremendously on their own, are now ready to embark on a more grown up relationship with one another. Nothing could make me happier.
Then, earlier today, I got a text from a friend, asking me if I’d heard the news about the most recent aftershock in Japan. I told him I hadn’t as I’d been in somewhat of a media blackout while traversing my mountain trail. He filled me in. All I could do was shake my head in disbelief and have my heart, once again, go out to the people of Japan, for all their suffering.
With a heavy heart, I headed to my Pilates class, during which, I couldn’t help but dwell on the feeling of sadness I felt for Japan and her occupants. Arriving home, I poured myself into the hectic routine of making dinner interspersed with driving my son to and from soccer practice. Later, as we sat around the table, eating and conversing, my thoughts kept returning to Japan. I didn’t want to ruin the light mood everyone else was in, so I kept my thoughts to myself still unable to shake my sadness.
After dinner, I was in my office, getting some work done, when my daughter entered with our granddaughter, Kai, who she placed on the floor. Kai looked from her mom to me and then beamed a toothless grin so full of enthusiasm that her eyes crinkled shut. When they reopened, Kai immediately began her new inchworm technique of crawling straight for me, intent to reach me as soon as she could.
It was in that very moment, my breath caught and focusing intently on Kai, that I finally shook my sorrowful feeling over Japan’s woes, marveling over a new beginning—that of our granddaughter doing the very crawl I’d taught her only days earlier.
I sat there, my gaze shifting from my daughter to my granddaughter and back again. The whole while, my mind vacillated over topics recently discussed: Japan, the Twin Towers, the Space shuttle Challenger, our oldest son moving back to town. And it was then that dawning awareness set in—no matter what, life goes on.
Half a world away, somewhere in Japan, though the country is torn apart, no doubt, there is a little baby taking it’s first tentative crawl just as our granddaughter is. And that’s a good thing, for it’s a tactile reminder that life goes on. People recover. Devastations are survived. Tragedies make us stronger for having endured them. And most of all, no matter how young or old or whatever station in life, the human spirit will find a way to move forward. It may be in the form of a comical inchworm crawl, but that is forward momentum. And in the end, that’s what will carry us through.
Yesterday, while on my date with my youngest son, we spoke more of what’s been going on in Japan. That triggered conversations about other incidents in our somewhat recent history that left the world stunned when they occurred. One we discussed was the Space Shuttle Challenger disaster. The other was of the collapse of the Twin Towers on 9-11. As I drove along, my son, listening intently and contributing to our conversation, clicked on his smart phone and brought up videos of both those events to help him better understand their magnitude.
We discussed those historic events for a bit longer before switching to happier subjects. I shared how I’d received a call earlier that day, informing me that our oldest son and his girlfriend will be moving back to southern California from up north. Beaming, my youngest son and I discussed how great it would be to have our family closer together. How we’ve missed having our oldest son around. How the two brothers, each having grown tremendously on their own, are now ready to embark on a more grown up relationship with one another. Nothing could make me happier.
Then, earlier today, I got a text from a friend, asking me if I’d heard the news about the most recent aftershock in Japan. I told him I hadn’t as I’d been in somewhat of a media blackout while traversing my mountain trail. He filled me in. All I could do was shake my head in disbelief and have my heart, once again, go out to the people of Japan, for all their suffering.
With a heavy heart, I headed to my Pilates class, during which, I couldn’t help but dwell on the feeling of sadness I felt for Japan and her occupants. Arriving home, I poured myself into the hectic routine of making dinner interspersed with driving my son to and from soccer practice. Later, as we sat around the table, eating and conversing, my thoughts kept returning to Japan. I didn’t want to ruin the light mood everyone else was in, so I kept my thoughts to myself still unable to shake my sadness.
After dinner, I was in my office, getting some work done, when my daughter entered with our granddaughter, Kai, who she placed on the floor. Kai looked from her mom to me and then beamed a toothless grin so full of enthusiasm that her eyes crinkled shut. When they reopened, Kai immediately began her new inchworm technique of crawling straight for me, intent to reach me as soon as she could.
It was in that very moment, my breath caught and focusing intently on Kai, that I finally shook my sorrowful feeling over Japan’s woes, marveling over a new beginning—that of our granddaughter doing the very crawl I’d taught her only days earlier.
I sat there, my gaze shifting from my daughter to my granddaughter and back again. The whole while, my mind vacillated over topics recently discussed: Japan, the Twin Towers, the Space shuttle Challenger, our oldest son moving back to town. And it was then that dawning awareness set in—no matter what, life goes on.
Half a world away, somewhere in Japan, though the country is torn apart, no doubt, there is a little baby taking it’s first tentative crawl just as our granddaughter is. And that’s a good thing, for it’s a tactile reminder that life goes on. People recover. Devastations are survived. Tragedies make us stronger for having endured them. And most of all, no matter how young or old or whatever station in life, the human spirit will find a way to move forward. It may be in the form of a comical inchworm crawl, but that is forward momentum. And in the end, that’s what will carry us through.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
While reading the comments folks made on yesterday’s blog about how I’d save the rattlesnake form being needlessly killed by that man, I grew puzzled, disturbed and then I was downright upset.
Perhaps it’s because of how I was raised—a deep appreciation of nature, all nature—ingrained deep within my fibers, or maybe that’s just the way I was born. Either way, I couldn’t imagine harming one of nature’s creatures unless they posed a direct threat to someone or me I was with, meaning they were in the actual act of attacking.
Living where I do, I’m mindful that it is I in the animals’ habitat, not the other way around. As such, I have the utmost respect for their tolerance with allowing me safe passage time and time again through their inner sanctity. I haven’t always been granted that same safe passage by people I’ve come upon while up on the mountain, but the animals have always let me alone while bringing me great inner peace at being made privy to their existence.
Am I a huge fan of snakes? No. Do I think they’re cuddly and sweet? No. Do I, or have I, ever owned any as pets? No. Then why should I care about what happens to a random rattlesnake up on a mountain trail? Well…perhaps I shouldn’t, but the fact is, I do. Always have. Always will. Numerous times per year, I stop someone from harming one of nature’s creatures up on the mountain trails I traverse.
I do so as a means to help educate folks and to pay homage to the magnificent critters, and yes, that includes rattlesnakes, I come across while on my mountain journeys. Is my one small voice making a difference? Raising awareness? Helping to save nature’s fine critters? Who’s to say? I don’t do what I do to gain huge recognition or to change the world. Instead, I speak out because it seems to be the right thing to do. And if that includes raising awareness one rattlesnake sighting at a time, then so be it. Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Today, I saved a life and helped to educate some folks in the process. Beginning on my mountain run, I came to where the trail forks. As I headed up the right side, I noticed a large rattlesnake in my path. I stopped to take its photo. That proved anything but easy, as it was moving with great speed, wanting to get a way from me. In addition, the sun was glaring with such intensity on the screen to my phone that I could barely see what I was taking a picture of.
Just about the time I was able to snap what I hoped would prove to be a good photo, along came a younger couple with their dog down the other side of the fork. As they were headed, unaware, straight into the path of the snake, I informed them of such. The man became rather protective of his girlfriend and their dog, ushering them off to the side. The snake, sensing the dog, became agitated and began to accordion the upper half of its body, getting into a strike pose. This was my cue to ask the couple to please move their dog away, and for me to move myself out of the way.
The snake calmed down, and I snapped a couple more pictures. Putting my phone back in my running pouch, I turned just in time to see the young man come up behind me with two huge rocks, one in each hand, his eyes intent on the still moving snake. I looked from the rocks to the poor snake that was just trying to get away and said to the man, “Please don’t kill it. It means no harm. Just wants to get away from us.”
The man, not detoured, kept approaching the snake and said, “Are you sure,” as he paused to look at me.
“I am,” was my reply.
The man dropped each of the rocks, each landing with resounding thud that I felt more than heard, the ground vibrating from the force. Then he said, “But what if the snake tries to attack a person or dog?”
I looked at the snake, relieved that it had finally reached a spot where it could conceal itself, then turned to the man and said, “That won’t happen unless it feels its life is threatened. And if people and their dogs,” I added, referring to what I’d seen as the couple had approached with their dog off-leash and romping off trail through the grass, “remain on the trail. That way, they’ll have plenty of warning there’s a snake about and will be able to safely make their way around it without incident.”
The man looked at where the snake had disappeared into the tall grass and then back at me before he said, “I don’t know…. I don’t like it.”
With the utmost patience, I looked at the man and with a calm voice said, “Try to remember that we’re in the snake’s territory up here. This is his home, not ours. As such, we have to be respectful of him.”
As if a light bulb had finally gone on, the man looked from me to his girlfriend, dog and then back at me before relaxing. Heading off a moment later, he said, “You’re right.”
Monday, April 4, 2011
Earlier, I had a rather in depth thought-provoking conversation with a dear friend. The two of us tend to do that with one another. But I digress. During the course of our conversation, my friend pointed out how: thoughts create intent, which create actions that ultimately lead to creating life.
I agreed with him, wholeheartedly. Then he shared how he believes that the lack of perceptive thought is what makes people average instead of being more intellectual. I again agreed, adding how I think that’s a big part of what makes people complacent.
We spoke for a bit longer, expanding on this subject—there really are so many directions one can go with it. Finally, we landed on how it’s neglect to leave one’s thoughts vacant. The translation to this would be: it’s a terrible thing to waste one’s mind.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
I always find it a tad perplexing when, by the end of a weekend that’s been crammed full of stuff from beginning to end, I find myself feeling completely relaxed. Shouldn’t it be the other way around—me being wiped out from such a busy weekend?
Hmmm….
I don’t always feel rejuvenated and relaxed after a hectic weekend. Perhaps the difference is that this weekend was full of really fun things I did—unique things. For example, coaxed by a girlfriend, I went to a belly dancing class yesterday where we sat on little cushions on the floor during the hour and a half long class! Though that was odd, it was really useful with being able to isolate the individual muscles we needed to pull off the moves the instructor showed us.
Yesterday was one of those days that was so crazy busy that I scarcely had time to get something to eat, much less then actually get the food in me. Leaving one lecture, my girlfriend and I had a short break that only allowed us to head to a 7-eleven to grab a sandwich (really quite palatable) and some coffee (okay, that wasn’t so great), before heading to our belly dancing class.
Saturday, April 2, 2011
There are days when, despite my having a crammed full schedule, I find myself beyond grateful. Sitting on the sidelines of my son’s soccer game this morning, I kept gazing up at the sky, marveling over what a gorgeous day it was. And I was grateful for that.
Heading out after my son’s game, my mind flew over a list of things I had to get done, and the little time I had to do them. But I didn’t stress. Years ago, I would have. But I’ve learned to just dig in and plow through the things I have to do, taking moments here and there to look up and appreciate what’s around me, instead of isolating myself from the world with self-imposed blinders.
As I’m writing this, I keep glancing at the clock that’s ticking off the day way too fast, realizing that I’m running behind schedule. But that’s okay. I’ve made the necessary calls to help manage expectations and…things…well…they’ll play out however they’re going to. In the end, it’ll all be okay, for I will have gotten through my day without being all stressed, having taken the time to appreciate things surrounding me and without having a nasty mood that would have dumped unfair stress on those around me.
Friday, April 1, 2011
The mountain trail where I run daily is known for having rattlesnakes, amongst other forms of more “exotic” wildlife. So, I keep my eyes alert, focused not only on where I’m going and what’s up ahead but especially where my feet are about to land. Doing so has helped me avoid actually getting bitten by rattlesnakes, although I’ve had more than I care to recall strike out at me as I was leaping over them while running.This is prime rattlesnake season—the beginning of it—when snakes are just coming out of hibernation in search of something to eat. It’s my ultimate goal each season to avoid becoming one of the things the local rattlesnakes sink their fangs into. So far, my keen attention to the trails has allowed me to maintain that goal. Today was no exception.
Moving along the trial at a good clip, my eyes shifted from what might lie just beneath my feet to what was up a little ways ahead. There were shadows cast across the pathway in some areas. Those are the places I scrutinize the most, for that’s where it’s easy to miss a snake sighting.
Up a little ways ahead, just past a shaded area, I caught sight of movement on the ground. Getting closer, I was astounded when I spotted the largest rattlesnake I’ve ever seen! This guy had to have been over three feet in length and at least two and a half inches in diameter! Its rattle alone was about two inches in length and easily an inch and a half wide! It was moving at a fast clip, not the least bit threatened by my close proximity. But then, I’m sure it knew it had the upper hand should we need to engage. More surprising than it’s impressive size was its coloring. Most rattlesnakes are the color of dried dirt so they can perfectly camouflage. But this guy was mostly green…yes, I did say…green.
I took out my phone, and in the time it took for me to get into the camera setting, the snake had scurried most of the way across the path. Never before would I have believed that I’d be uttering the words, “Stop moving so fast,” to a snake, much less a rattler, but that’s exactly what I did. I hurried to snap my photo before the snake disappeared into the grass where it was headed.
Letting the snake slither into the cover of grass before I proceeded, I gave thanks for once again missing getting tangled up with the wrong end of a rattler and continued on without further sightings.
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