Just the Right Moment

I am amazed as I have meandered in and out of your lives through a post here and a post there that I feel like I have been led into your living rooms and kitchens for a little chat…for you and me to share pieces of ourselves.  I have enjoyed your openness which has made me feel more welcome here, more like I belong.  Even though my mind has taken a bit longer than I would’ve wished to get back in the swing of writing and thinking and typing in a different paradigm following vacation and trauma modes, I have been met by new readers and lovely reminders that I can be imperfect yet lovable and perfectly myself.  Having said that, I would like to thank all of you and wish each of you well in your various spheres of life.  Even when your days become monotonous, you are still making a difference and have an important voice.

All my love and gratitude,
K. 🙂

Allowing Happiness

One of my writing habits (I would say “quirks,” but I imagine that I am not alone in this practice) is having something to grab and snack on while I write.  I know I need my blood sugar up in order to function…so I am typically snacking on something sugary but will occasionally go healthy with something like fruit or salty with chips/pretzels/crackers, etc.

Well, a few weeks ago, my preschooler approached me, seeking the Skittles that sometimes (often) sit beside me while I am writing.  I only buy the bulk-sized bags.  Like super-big.  The largest ones I can find.  And, I do share.

So, I had my big bag here beside me…and I pulled out a handful every now and then to put on the counter, then grabbed one or two at a time and popped them into my mouth. Well, my preschooler came up beside me, grabbed a purple (which he knows is my favorite color) with his pincer grasp, and turned to me with the words, “Open your mouth.”

He rarely tries to feed me, so his words and actions brought a smile to my face…which made my day a little bit lighter.  He popped it into my mouth, and I chewed it while retaining my smile.  🙂

I’m amazed at the intuitive nature of the beings around us and of the way they can bring happiness to us if we will but allow that feeling to flow into our hearts.

Well, I’m signing off for the weekend and hope that you…and I…will have a lovely (lighter) feeling…and days full of peace and hope for the future.

Third Time’s the Charm

So, I don’t often work much with clichés or colloquialisms.  In my writing classes in college, we were taught to avoid those types of fall-back phrases in order to explore new ideas and more creative ways to express our thoughts.  In the following cases, though, I have found the phrase “third time’s the charm” to be appropriate. 🙂

First Case in Point:  Dentists

Since our last relocation effort, I have neglected finding a new dentist for my family.  We had insurance issues…and distance issues…and personality issues.  We visited one for a dental emergency that wasn’t the best fit.  We visited another for a cleaning and an attempt to do some work, which also wasn’t the best fit.  Finally, we found a good fit yesterday.  And my child (who had experienced a traumatic dental experience) practically skipped home (figuratively, of course, since we drove), and I have been relieved that all went well.  Third dentist worked!!!!!  Hooray!!!!!

Case the Second:  Boots

Back in this post, I talked about my excitement related to FINALLY ordering brown boots…and how I sent them back.  Well, I ordered another pair of (unmentioned) boots in the meantime, and they were also a no-go.  I was getting a bit frustrated…but, fear not!  The third pair I ordered worked out beautifully!  I wanted heels (not riding boots) in a dark brown color with a more fitted shaft…and not too trendy so they last through several seasons.  I found a pair online that said they were over-the-knee (so I was a little concerned, since I wanted the boots to come just under my knee)…but I guess my legs are long enough that they fit exactly like I wanted them to fit!  Hooray!!!!! No more brown boot shopping for me!  Third pair worked!!!!! (Now, if I can just figure out how to treat suede so that they will be water-resistant…any one?  Any one?)

So, a song from my days of listening to and loving Schoolhouse Rock is playing in my head right now; I guess three really is a magic number.  Do you agree?  What experiences do you have when the third experience worked for you?

Sending hugs!!!!!

Choices

As I approach the dashboard of my blog to write this Monday morning, my heart is (honestly) a little heavy.  I know I can sit here and recount the conversations of the weekend and how we are all really no less safe than we were four days ago…but we may feel like we are.  I know I can ignore what I am feeling, as well, and get lost in some editing or fiction writing or a book or movie.  I also know that I can take my advice from Friday (which I posted before the news hit) and count my blessings.  I think I will choose the last.

(I would be dishonest to say that I didn’t hug my little ones a little tighter before they left my door this morning, though.)

I am so very blessed in my life.  Currently, I live in a more-than-ample house with a kitchen I adore using.  I have beautiful, insightful children who impart wisdom to me daily.  I have a handsome husband who loves me in spite of my multitude of flaws, shortcomings, and occasional sadness over situations I cannot control.  I was raised by good parents.  I have amazing friends and family members.  I can rock heels.  (And, last week, I even found brown boots…but that is another story!)

Somehow choosing to focus on the vast blessings before me helps my heart feel a little lighter.  I will try to choose happiness instead of feeding the negative feelings bouncing around my head of fear and uncertainty.  I will count a few more blessings along my path today…and among them will be you, my dear readers.  🙂

Thanks for listening…and reading.  I appreciate you more than you know.

Blessings All Around Us

Okay, so before I get back to posting some fiction that is bouncing around my brain (literally–sometimes it hurts until I get it out and down through my little fingers which type the images through words onto a screen)…I just want to take a moment to encourage each of us to look around whatever setting in which we find ourselves.

What do we see?

I see a screen (which is a blessing itself as it allows me to communicate with the world from my tiny little desk).  I see windows and sunlight streaming in through them, which produces Vitamin D and boosts endorphin levels.  I see a photo of a child that once grew inside me which brings back fond memories.  I see Kleenex for when my nose runs.  I see Germ-X, which I can use to clean my hands after I use the Kleenex.  I see artwork of children I love, a table where people sit to eat together and exchange ideas through conversation.  I see a kitchen filled with memories of making sweets, breads, and dinners, and images of my family around the counter making plates of goodies to take to friends and neighbors.

What do you see?

Look a little deeper.

The blessings are all around us, if only we stop, look, and listen.

🙂

Hope you have a glorious weekend, my dear blog friends! I’ll catch up with you on Monday!

(photo copyright Sarah Knight Photography)

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What’s in a name?

I have always felt a strange sense of responsibility regarding the naming of a life.  I have long felt that a name can have so much to do–for good or ill–in the formation of a life.

My dad used to tell us about ways that children made fun of his name when he was a child.  I also remember that my brother’s name was one that was used jokingly.  Thankfully, my name’s pronunciation was difficult enough to say, much less make fun of, which I’m sure saved me some sort of embarrassment in one way while creating it in another.  Oh, well.

Still, as we brought each of our children into this world, I felt a powerful need to create a strong force around them with regard to their names.  I wonder if I have taught them enough about the reasons and feelings around the names they have been given.  I wanted them to each have powerful and purposeful names and to know the meaning of their names…but, like all lessons in life, I’m sure this one’s presence in their minds waxes and wanes like the phases of the moon.

                                       From here

Similarly, when I write, I find myself struggling again to name a character…to summon the forces of nature and writing to again create a life.  Sometimes I find myself, though I am past searching for names of lives that will come from my own womb, pouring over baby name books, searching for the name to fit the character I see in my mind’s eye.  I still feel a sense of ownership with these characters, who in some way become real to me, just as Jane Eyre, Clare Abshire, and Anastasia Steele are real to so many (I recognize that these women are oddly grouped…sorry).  I was also reminded this weekend as my husband and I attended the latest film from a franchise older than I am what is in a name…the faces may have changed several times over the years, but when a British accent speaks the name, “Bond…James Bond,” people listen.  His name has a power.

So, do you know why your name is what it is?

Did you ever want to change it?

And what have you done with your name to make it yours?

Why is it so hard to hit “Publish” today?

(First, I have to say that the spacing of writing poetry on WordPress is too spaced for my taste; I prefer my lines more compact.  I have no other complaints with the format of the blog, though (other than I sometimes have trouble embedding media).  Maybe someone out there knows a solution to my spacing and media formatting issues they could share? 🙂  Second, I am stalling because I haven’t shared poetry publicly for years. Literally. I barely even write it anymore unless an image or mood strikes.  (I did try my hand at a little spoken word poetry after listening to Sarah Kay’s TED Talk, but that’s for another day.)  Anyway, here is a little piece I wrote the other morning about 2 a.m.)

Darkness to Light

 

Sometimes our toes mingle

At the appropriately named foot

Of the bed we’ve shared for almost a decade

They brush together,

Like timid fingers on a first date

Intertwining over cuticles, around layers of polish, and rough spots which were once smooth.

I love this choreography we perform each night between sheets which push down our feet, when toes sometimes join to fight the oppressive force of the mighty panel of white fabric (tucked in a hospital corner, of course).

When light streams through the window, the dance of eventide ends, and

Toes once bound by proximity are released to their own ends of socks, clogs, flip-flops, boots, running shoes.  (Most of the time I prefer mine bare.)

Still, when the darkness returns, they find each other again, like lovers after a long separation

Where they again intertwine as if on the first night oh-so-long-ago….

 

Someone once asked, “When your lover dies, what will you miss most?”

Myriad answers filled the air: his smile, her hair, his hands everywhere.

I shrugged to speak my answer, but I find it every night when he is gone.

I would miss his toes intertwining with mine, dancing this dance between panels of white.

Who will help me greet the morning if he is no longer here?