QUE SERA, SERA

The rains did come in the night after all and continued through the morning. There was nothing to do but to live and enjoy the goodness it brings – beauty for the eyes, captured and saved by the camera.

We were content, in acceptance this morning. Well, I was my lassitude self for a little while, reluctant to get up as usual – no joie de vivre in my soul. I only felt a darkness, like a brick wall – nowhere to go. It was that staleness of jungle mouth and unbrushed teeth.

What do you do then, but to get up and rinse that staleness away. You do it with movement and feigned good cheer. It works some how and you breathe a little easier. The wall is not so dense . You can almost see around it, if not through it. And there on the other side is Sheba – waiting so prettily for me in the morning light, looking pleased and at ease with herself. That is how I should be.

A Doris Day song played in my head. I heard the words this morning and I paid attention.

“Que sera, sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future’s not ours to see
Que sera, sera
What will be, will be”

Que sera, sera. The future is not ours to see. The brick wall is a friend, after all. We are not meant to live in the future but to be here and now. No point in second guessing ourselves of what could have been and would have been – if only we….. Though I liken myself to Wonder Woman, I am not Super Woman. I have no x-ray eyes. I cannot see into the future. I cannot change the past.

Good things happen. Bad things happen. Accidents happen. I feel good. I feel bad. It is the kaleidoscope of life. There are no free rides. There is fire. There is rain. James Taylor says it well.

“I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain. I’ve seen sunny days that I thought would never end.
I’ve seen lonely times when I could not find a friend, but I always thought that I’d see you again.”

There is hope – like a rainbow after the rain. Hold on to it. Chase it. Run after it. Don’t lose it. Treasure life.

BRAGGING

The rains almost came, the sky heavy with dark clouds. But they receded as the sun competed for attention.

I am trying to write my few words but my own cloud is fighting to be heard. Patiently I sit, waiting for the tug of war to subside. It is not easy. It is not hard. I just have to sit and tap out one word at a time. I do not have to clever. I do not have to be funny. I just have to tell it as it is.

So how is it? When I think it is SO hard to do this and that, I am surprised to find that it isn’t so. When you make a start, one thing follows another. Before you know it, the thing is done. I am proud of myself. You could say I am bragging now. Why not? I have to give myself credit because I know how hard it is when the clouds grab a hold of you.

I used to live in wait – for the shoe to drop. It was a relief when it did and nothing else happened. No disaster. No headless monsters. I’ve learned to go with the flow and let the clouds stay their while.

I do not try to ease my pain. It is painful. My throat is tight and unyielding. My limbs heavy and limp at the same time. Everything hurts, even my eyeballs. Have you ever felt like that? I do not try to call or make dates with friends. No use burdening others and most likely no one will be home.

That has been my experience. No one is home in those times for me. It is more empowering that I be home for myself. So, I put my head down and put one foot in front of the other and MOVE, at whatever speed I can. Life is hard sometimes. You have to give yourself a break and a pat on the back once in awhile. You have to brag ~~once in a while~~, often. Go ahead. Do it.

FLUX AND FLOW

By now you must know that I’m not a jubilant kind of person in the morning – even if it is summer. My feet rarely hits the floorboards in a joyous bounce. Rather, they reluctantly and languidly test the waters, ready to withdraw back under the covers if it is not to their liking. I try not to give it too much importance, this nature of mine. It is just ME.

And I always get up, dress up and show up for my life – every day. Some days are, of course, better than others. Today is a reluctant day. It is just a feeling. I get up, dress, wash face, brush teeth and fix my bed head. I am into the flux and flow of the day.

I read a little, tinkered some on the piano, stir fried pork with Chinese broccoli on my new cast iron frying pan for lunch. It was a pretty good morning. I was neither maudlin nor manic. I was just right, if there is such a state.

The afternoon was spent digging in the flower garden, trying to tame the weeds and runaway ground covers. How had I let everything gets so wild? My flower garden was as cluttered as my house and head. It was so satisfying and therapeutic digging and clearing space. It was time to become conscious and let the sun in.

Digging in the yard uncovered many things as I scooped up layer after layer of dead leaves and pulled away the Gout Weed. I had spent too much time feeling others’ pain. I had no time to feel my own.

Can you believe it? I’ve just knocked a glass of white wine, thank goodness it’s small, onto my Mac laptop. I watched motionless for a nano second before turning the laptop upside down. Meanwhile it shorted and I was unable to turn it off. I dried it off as well as I could. I closed the lid to put it into a bag of rice and it lit up. I was able to turn off then. I decided to leave it open, upside down to dry.

It is really the flux and flow. I’m more in flux right now. I’m flowing away on the wine. I am surprise I am not more upset. I could lose everything on my Mac as I did not back up anything. Oh well, I will have a clean slate. I can start over. I can be a born again.

In the meantime I am poking along on my PC. There is no hurry , is there? You will pardon me if I am a little lax on the tenses and grammar. I am sorry that I can’t show my peonies almost ready to bloom….maybe tomorrow I can take more pictures.

Tomorrow is another day in the flux and flow of life.

LAST NIGHT – Friday Fictioneers

It’s Friday and time for fiction of 100 words, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

PHOTO PROMPT Copyright-Madison Woods The photo is actually from Lura Helms

She rested her back against her old friend, feeling its coarse rough bark through her thin blouse. She was home.

Already she was missing him – his arms, his voice – his very essence.

I love you!

He looked at her.

How can you love someone in two weeks? It’s the uniform.

She cast her eyes downward, tears coursing down her cheeks. There was nothing to say. She sipped her champagne and swallowed.

The moon shone down. Perspiration beaded on his forehead. He mopped it with his white handkerchief, leaned over and kissed her.

You’ll be alright. Let’s just enjoy the night.

HAVE MOTTOS, WILL TRAVEL

Today brings more grey and mist but the morning is lit up with my blooming irises. God always find a way to light up the world.

I don my pink power shoes and head out the door with my Sheba in tow. Waste not time in letting the grey seep into our souls. Have feet, will travel. Aren’t mottos great for pushing us forward into the great unknown?

My great unknown was alive this morning with traffic, noise and city workers. I heard City Hall got a bigger budget and they’re busy out spending it – improving the infrastructure. Road Blocked, Detour, Street cleaning and No Parking signs were everywhere. The neighbourhood hummed.

We saw City of Saskatoon cars driven by my guess, grey-haired retired seniors. They were probably the ones who put tickets on windshields of illegally parked cars. Where were you suppose to go when there is no driveway? Someone honked. I looked back to see who it was. Did we do anything wrong? A city worker in his green and yellow neon vest got out of a black Toyota truck. He was only getting a fellow worker’s attention.

We put a little more mustard into our feet. We trotted faster and got the hell off the streets, back into our safe haven. We checked to see how the vegetables were faring.

The raised beds are doing considerably better than our garden in the ground. The cucumbers and squash and tomatoes are still struggling even after an application of sheep manure. But the potatoes, beans, peas, onions, etc. are doing fine. I’m taking note for next year. It is all a process – try this, try that. It is worth it no matter what happens.

Have heart and you will harvest. Yet another motto from yours truly.

IDLE NO MORE TODAY

Today we had no time for being maudlin, crying into our soup and feeling sorry for ourselves. There was things to do and a life to live. The day held promise of sunshine and blue skies.

I put on my own Wonder Woman footwear – pink and black runner shoes and head out of the door with Sheba. She is the perfect running partner. We give a new meaning to interval training, running a few steps and then stopping to sniff the grass or telephone pole. It is a glorious day with sunshine and a gentle breeze. We are in tune with the Universe once more.

We run, we sniff, we run some more. Soon we are home again. The kettle is on. The cup of tea is made. I sip and work on Jesus, one slow stitch at a time. Progress is made, like drops into a bucket from a dripping tap. I’m not in a hurry. I am spending quality time with my Jesus. Hallow be His name. Thy kingdom come.

Now I am in the eve of the day. The meal is done. The dishes are in the dishwasher. The baking is done. The bread and cinnamon buns are cooled and put away. Raindrops are falling again. I am sipping wine, feeling mellow and content.

It is a good day. I cannot ask for me.

NOT ALL DAYS ARE EQUAL

Some days are hard. Life is hard. Sometimes it takes a week before I can take the towels out of the dryer. The words don’t come. When they do, they are dryer than dry.

The sun came out today. I thought that would make me happy but it only made my glumness take hold. It was thick. It made it difficult to keep my eyes opened. My legs felt like cement pillars. But I did try to run with Sheba this morning.

It was not a total success. No surprise there, right? I wondered at the perfectly manicured green lawns along our route. Where did people find the energy? Why did they care? They were beautiful, these lush, thick emerald carpets. Even in my state of mind, I appreciated them.

We entered the park. The heaviness eased its burden, for how can it not – amidst God’s green acres. The beauty was too great and it fled, its dark tail between cement legs. I was freed to enjoy God’s creations, if only for moments.

WonderWomanV5 — Wonder Woman. Art by Terry Dodson Wikipedia

No all days are equal. I know that for sure. Days like today will come again and I will weather it again. So the towels sit in the dryer for a few days. No harm done. My words will play hide and seek with me but they always come back. I need not be a hero and scale walls of tall buildings. I am only Wonder Woman and not Spider Man. I can use these boots and just walk around them. Life continues.

MORE RAIN AND NO SHINE

It rains still. How many days now? I have lost count. But Sheba and I are strong. Every morning we don our black rain gear and we walk our talk – neither rain nor sleet. Hush! I better keep my mouth shut. Even if it is the end of June, you just never know what the weather will do.

We’re not as glum as we look. It’s hard to do selfies and to get both of us in one shot. My arm isn’t long enough and the iPhone screen is not that big. This is the best I could do.

Last night I was sitting at my desk in front of the window. Sheba was at my feet. Thunder rumbled. A big bolt of lightning flashed and crackled right before me. I screamed. Sheba jumped up, barking. My window was opened. The neighbour yelled “SHUT UP.” The rain poured.

Such is the energy surrounding the home and hearth at times. I know what Shakespeare mean when he writes something stinks in the state of Denmark. But I am Wonder Woman, the warrior princess of the Amazon. I can ward off stagnant and malevolent energies with my magic bracelets. I can lasso the demons with my golden rope. So you are warned.

God answers back with a rumble of thunder.

THE WORLD WITH OUT

The rain continues to come down. I continue to venture forth into the Universe to feed myself, for no woman is an island unto herself. She cannot be nurtured and grow without any outside forces. Within, she will dwindle and wither and become as insignificant as she already feels.

The world is noisy and chaotic. But it is where we all want to be because the chaos and noise are just as bad inside ourselves. It is safer and more comfortable to experience it on the outside. I rather say it is because of ‘THEM” and it is “OUT THERE” than blame myself and that the fault lies within me. Wouldn’t you?

But I did find quiet corners within the maddening crowd. I was not quite an island but still felt safe enough. The chaos and noise were on my periphery. They worked as a shield to protect me from myself. I was insignificant and yet not diminutive. I still had power. I was Wonder Woman once.

I could be again. Where are my bracelets and lasso?

MOVING ON – Friday Fictioneers

It’s Friday and time for fiction of 100 words, hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

PHOTO PROMPT
Copyright -Mary Shipman

He glanced up at the once grand and graceful building. Its walls still stood tall and erect. But it was stripped of its finery. Its fine coat had long ago faded. Boards bared their decay.

The windows stared back at him, their lifeless eyes devoid of their sheen. A shadow floated past. He shivered in the gathering dusk. He saw the woman’s ashen face.

He gave one final look. He remembered the life that once was – the light, the warmth of laughter, the clink of glasses, music, dancing….

They once were but no more. It was time to move on.

onethousandandtwo

Looking at Infinity

Month: June 2014