Life is often a big mystery to me and yet I try so hard to know myself better and better in time. I do not always understand my reactions nor give them the attention that they deserve. With that, I can say that I have chosen and was reminded of a famous saying that Kay Flynn often claimed.
Kay Flynn was a co-worker nurse friend of my mother's and she came to stay in one of our "guest" rooms for a time. Flynn had a very healthy drinking problem and yet she often had such right on comments about life like "Live And See What Happens." Maybe she just knew or maybe she had lived through many hard times and allowed for the hardships and the joy to ebb and flow along with her favorite alcoholic beverage. Just the same, her saying today is spot on as they say and it may just become the moniker of my second half of 2012.
Live and see what happens.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Who Put The 'Ape' In Apricot?
I have been cleaning out the garage and throwing away junk as I recover from my cold and have a few days off before I start yet another new job. Maybe this is the way life is going to be? Maybe it will get weirder and weirder as the years move along. It has been warm enough this week to feel like spring though it can hardly be that mid February here. There has been just enough quiet to feel afraid and then talk myself out of it. There has been just enough relief to miss my family in Texas and wish I could live next door and come by for coffee.
Some of us are still a little P.T.S.D. from our childhood's and we do the best we can with the adult package that must make decisions, consider consequences, say yes and say no and move on to what is next. Some of the people that I know carry quite a bit of "core wounding" as therapists like to call it. Some of us can feel it come up in our bodies before we realize what it is that is jerking our chain. I am still, a work in progress.
I am fortunate and very much so, to know that I have much love to give and sometimes it doesn't get through those filters. I do what I can and sometimes there is just way too much to take in and too much to consider that could become a regret if I do not pause and consider the outcome. I believe that one has fear and faith in tandem or rather, I do. I believe in myself and I am cautious.
I started thinking about that cowardly lion again and how his sweetness was transparent and his fear palpable. His quaking is humorous and I know how that can be as I begin another adventure in employment. I do wonder about courage and where does that come from? I wonder about the space between niggling fears and the commencement of courage and conviction. It is just a pause, a hesitation, a space on the page or a gaze towards the horizon before one turns, breathes in and saunters into the next frame. That is the 'ape' in apricot.
Some of us are still a little P.T.S.D. from our childhood's and we do the best we can with the adult package that must make decisions, consider consequences, say yes and say no and move on to what is next. Some of the people that I know carry quite a bit of "core wounding" as therapists like to call it. Some of us can feel it come up in our bodies before we realize what it is that is jerking our chain. I am still, a work in progress.
I am fortunate and very much so, to know that I have much love to give and sometimes it doesn't get through those filters. I do what I can and sometimes there is just way too much to take in and too much to consider that could become a regret if I do not pause and consider the outcome. I believe that one has fear and faith in tandem or rather, I do. I believe in myself and I am cautious.
I started thinking about that cowardly lion again and how his sweetness was transparent and his fear palpable. His quaking is humorous and I know how that can be as I begin another adventure in employment. I do wonder about courage and where does that come from? I wonder about the space between niggling fears and the commencement of courage and conviction. It is just a pause, a hesitation, a space on the page or a gaze towards the horizon before one turns, breathes in and saunters into the next frame. That is the 'ape' in apricot.
Monday, February 13, 2012
"Who Is The Slayer, Who Is The Victim, Speak."
I was amazed at the hustle and bustle of a Monday in our not-so-wee city today as I tried to accomplish some errands with the dying embers of my second cold in four months. Drivers were not nice and one woman tailgating me off the freeway was yelling at me for being in front of her. Or so I guessed. I saw so much ugliness out there that I could not wait to come home and watch a movie with the dogs slumbering nearby.
Having a cold has its own cadence and today I felt better than I have in a week. However, the anger of people driving and customers in stores where I went, treating one another with a callousness that might otherwise seem standard was enough for me to think I needed a helmet to be out amongst them. Thankfully I could just come home.
For me, at this juncture in life, I try to breathe in the difficulty of loss and pain and breathe out love, compassion and a greater understanding how we could try much harder with one another. I remembered a quote my mother had cut out from a wonderful book of photography called The Family Of Man which asked, "Who Is The Slayer, Who Is The Victim, Speak?"
In less poetic language, we are all family and kindness toward our fellow travelers may be all that separates our life experiences.
Having a cold has its own cadence and today I felt better than I have in a week. However, the anger of people driving and customers in stores where I went, treating one another with a callousness that might otherwise seem standard was enough for me to think I needed a helmet to be out amongst them. Thankfully I could just come home.
For me, at this juncture in life, I try to breathe in the difficulty of loss and pain and breathe out love, compassion and a greater understanding how we could try much harder with one another. I remembered a quote my mother had cut out from a wonderful book of photography called The Family Of Man which asked, "Who Is The Slayer, Who Is The Victim, Speak?"
In less poetic language, we are all family and kindness toward our fellow travelers may be all that separates our life experiences.
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