A DIFFERENT STORY – Day 74 in a year of…

Day 74, October 4, 2016 @10:00 am

img_7918Mornings are still dark at 7 am.  I’m slow at rising.  I’m slow at putting on my morning face and coming to the keyboard.  I diddle and daddle.  Finally I put on makeup, earrings.  I put on a pink sweater I haven’t worn in a coon’s age and some reasonable pants. Why do I wear the same ratty old clothes day in and day out when my closet is brimming with stuff?  Why don’t I wear a smile more often?  The answers could be as simple as habit and laziness.  It takes more energy to make choices than to go on auto pilot.  My habit has been to grab and don.

Habits and feelings have a habit of seeping back.  This morning I am quite aware of it.  I’m squirming with the discomfort of it all.  I pace, picking up a Kleenex and a napkin left here and there.  I gather some laundry to take downstairs to do. Remembering I haven’t checked the clutter in the basement for a few day, I cleared and discarded a few items.  When I can’t do big, I do little has become my mantra.

img_1628I’m finally here though, tapping on my keyboard.  The click, click beneath my fingertips are rhythmic and soothing.  Thoughts come and feelings come.  I’m pushing through the gloom and the mundane of this morning.  I see my glass/day full instead of empty.  I’m romancing myself with each tap, tap of the keyboard. I’m creating new thoughts, new habits and new views.  I’m telling a different story. What stories are you telling?

HOT SUMMER DAYS

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It’s not even 7 am yet.  The sun is out and it is already hot and humid.  I have already been awake since 4:30.  Too early to get out of bed.  Sheba is stretched out on the cool wooden floor at the foot of the bed.  She is stretching her boundaries.

At 6:00 I decided it was a waste of time staying in bed.  It would have been fine had I been content.  But I was not.  Such is life now and again.  Everything changes and this, too, shall pass.  So for now, I will stay and embrace it.  I can still tap out my words and feelings.  Perhaps I can free myself.

I padded out to the kitchen.  I hear Sheba retching and soon out came her breakfast, eaten in too big of a haste.  What a mess!   But she is lapping it all up again.  I turn my back and let her do her thing.  Sometimes you just have to.  Life can get like that.  I wipe the floor with damp paper towels.

I am tapping out my words on the deck.  The birds are chirping.  A crow cawed.  Sheba is at my feet listening.  The words are coming from my   fingertips.  What a blessing!  What a relief!  I can still make life work.  I try not to think too much.  I just try to move.

Yesterday we went for a long bike ride.  I pedaled with my heart in my mouth.  I pedaled with heart and metal.  I pedaled with success.  We celebrated with coffee at the Broadway Roastery.

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There was not enough tables with umbrellas.  We would sizzle under the hot sun.  So we moved Rod’s cargo bike under the shade of the trees and used it as a bench.  It was a lovely way of enjoying our coffee and watching the people come and go.  But I do think he need to add some pop up trays for our coffee.

So you can see that even not so great days are in reality great days.  It is in our minds and hearts to decide what they can be.  I try my best and that is all that I can do.  It is enough.

SUMMER TIME

IMG_5235It is summer time and I am looking out the window at the greenest green.  It is ironic that I am feeling my bluest blue.  Beneath the blue I can feel my red anger bubbling through at the Power that made me this way.  But I suppose that HE has a reason.  That is what Caroline Myss says.  There are no accidents.  There is a plan, a story, a drama to be played out.  I will wait and see.

I will sit and stay with my feelings and not run away.  If I expect Sheba to listen to me, I have to listen to myself first.  Sit and stay.  Nothing will hurt me…. even when the clouds cast a shadow over me,  I feel my skin crawl and someone is walking over my grave.  Sit and stay.  Everything is copacetic…A okay!

I sit and count my blessings.  I sit and feel my discomfort, my pain.  I sit and do my breath counts. I sit and plan my projects, the books I will write…on my life and times as a child in China, as an immigrant in a small town, as a nurse, as a…… I breathe in and out, counting the cross stitches on my Jesus picture.  I see the loaves of bread and the potato biscuits I made yesterday.  I sit and see the joy running in Sheba and I know that there is a higher power and purpose and know that this, too, shall pass.

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And now, it is time to get up and MOVE…and do all those ordinary little things that add up to a life.