Words for a Wednesday

Look at a day when you are supremely satisfied at the end. 

It's not a day when you lounge around doing nothing; 

it's when you've had everything to do, and you've done it.

--Margaret Thatcher

In our daily actions,
let us concentrate on details with great care and attention,
let us make this an ingrained habit for the behavior of our bodies and minds,
like protecting a newborn child.
by Master Taisen Deshimaru

I'm learning this...but it takes a lot of mental effort to keep in mind that every action I do through out the day should be dealt with carefully and thoughtfully. No list of tasks that must be accomplished before I can do fun stuff. It's ALL fun stuff! Yeah, like I said...I'm working on it.

Inspired by a dead woman's cream puffs

I've wanted to make cream puffs since eating one at a funeral a few weeks ago. They were light and airy and sinfully good and the signature baked good of the 94 year old Italian woman that had died. I didn't use her recipe, but found one in a cookbook and since I had Thursday off for Thanksgiving and had time to finally make them, I dove in. (Cathy did the turkey and trimmings).

It was fun to bake the pies and make the cream puffs. It fits into the 'living in the moment' zen approach to life that I'm attempting to live each day. It's less about the eating of and much more about the making of...I like the process. This quote says it best...

“Whatever the tasks,

do them slowly with ease,

in mindfulness,

so not do any tasks with the goal

of getting them over with.

Resolve to each job in a relaxed way,

with all your attention.”
- Thich Nhat Hanh, Zen Master

Thanksgiving

A friend sent me this Emerson quote for Thanksgiving and I think he captures what I am thankful for very well. Certainly health, food, shelter, morning light and love top the list.

For each new morning with its light,

For rest and shelter of the night,

For health and food, For love and friends,

For everything Thy goodness sends.

Ralph Waldo Emerson (1803-1882)

Yesterday I heard many stories about how the day would be spent as we went around the room and shared our plans. Some had traditions stretching back 40 years while others were reaching for new ways of spending this gift of a day off. For me personally, it's a family day and I'm most happy when surrounded by them. What are you thankful for today?

He who would learn to fly one day must first learn to stand and walk and run and climb and dance; one cannot fly into flying.

Friedrich Nietzsche
(1844-1900, German Philosopher)

I am a work in progress...

"I am a work in progress

dressed in the fabric of a world unfolding

offering intricate patterns of questions

rhythms that never come clean

and strengths
that you still haven’t seen"

–ani difranco

Anna Quindlen quote

I read and walked for miles at night along the beach,

writing bad blank verse and searching endlessly for

someone wonderful who would step out of the

darkness and change my life.

It never crossed my mind that

that person could be me.

New York, New York - Las Vegas

I love the new 9/11 display - I took pictures
of all the quotes along the walk way.

Healing flowers

When you take a flower in your hand and really look at it,

it's your world for the moment.

I want to give that world to someone else.

Most people in the city rush around so,

they have no time to look at a flower.

I want them to see it
whether they want to or not.

Georgia O'Keeffe

Let us open our leaves like a flower, and be passive and receptive. - John Keats

With a few flowers in my garden,
half a dozen pictures and some books,
I live without envy. - Lope de Vega

The Earth Laughs in Flowers- Ralph Waldo Emerson

This and That

Resume'

by Dorothy Parker
Razors pain you; Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you; And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren't lawful; Nooses give;
Gas smells awful; You might as well live.

Don't worry, there is no hidden message here... I just like the wit of the poet Dorothy Parker.

The people who decide what signs to place on the road have no direct contact with me. However, I was not doing just that, as I passed a sign, going 72 mph that stated in big, bold letters to "Concentrate on your driving"

Not really concentrating on anything in particular - I could have been retrieving a message off my cell phone, looking through a stack of cd's piled on the seat next to me, watching a fly buzz and bang against the window, clouds in the sky. Any number of things might keep me from ever really concentrating on my driving. In fact, I never give driving a second thought when I'm behind the wheel. Even the sign itself proved to be a distraction as I thought about it for miles and miles wondering if any of the people passing me were concentrating on their driving. I watched people. My guess is no one is.

Turn the key, hit the gas and do everything but take a nap between driveway and destination. That's my approach. A scene from a movie comes to mind. The camera pans around a car as a family travels through the night to reach their vacation destination. Kids and dog are sleeping propped up against each other in the back seat, mom is leaning comfortably on a pillow tucked up between the seat and the window in the front seat, sound asleep. Then on to the dad, Chevy Chase, is behind the wheel, head laid straight back, mouth open and snoring evenly. This scene doesn't end well- screaming if I remember right.

I worked with an older lady many years ago who never married and never had children. She was always bringing pictures of her dogs to us. I thought she was nuts. Dogs in little hats and sweaters that we oohed and aahed over to be polite. Now I'm fascinated myself by Zoey, Jack and Tiffany. They are in a little training session and focused on receiving their treat. Maybe she wasn't nuts.

Look not in my eyes, for fear

LOOK not in my eyes, for fear
Thy mirror true the sight I see,
And there you find your face too clear
And love it and be lost like me.
One the long nights through must lie
Spent in star-defeated sighs,
But why should you as well as I
Perish? gaze not in my eyes.

A Grecian lad, as I hear tell,
One that many loved in vain,
Looked into a forest well
And never looked away again.
There, when the turf in springtime flowers,
With downward eye and gazes sad,
Stands amid the glancing showers
A jonquil, not a Grecian lad.
--A. E. Housman

Time is Life

(click to enlarge)

I learned to love writing in a journal nearly 30 years ago. I found this old journal from high school and laughed as most of the comments from the instructor are encouraging me to "use my time wisely"; advice one could give me today. I'm the kind of person that can spend hours reading through a thesaurus for the perfect word to complete a sentence, while laundry piles up, dust collects and bills go unpaid. I love the artistry of cooking, but find myself reading cookbooks rather than actually cooking from them. I've sauntered through the bottle shop at Old World Market Place reading wine bottle labels, only to walk out without making a purchase.

My personal agenda is loose and disjointed. I am suspicious of people who live in neat houses; where do they put all their stuff? When do they find time to clean? Tracking along side of someone with a tightly structured agenda, directly connecting task A to task B is unnerving. My time is wasted on a regular basis - finding my way back home, searching for a ringing phone, or the other shoe. Hours lost while driving back country roads, or people watching at a busy metropolitan cafe.

In Italy, business owners close their shops for three hours every afternoon. This time is spent meeting their spouse or friends, sipping coffee, eating food served to them on tables set with flowers, table clothes and linen napkins, relaxing, people watching, perhaps a stroll through an art gallery. It's part of the "good life" they are so proud of as a culture. The good life, they say is Life itself. In Italy time is life.

I love this quote from Goethe:
"One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words."

Good advice!

As for that instructor from all those years ago, he also encouraged me to keep writing. I think he made his point.

(click to enlarge)

"What you don't feel, you will not grasp by art,
Unless it wells out of your soul
And with sheer pleasure takes control,
Compelling every listener's heart.
But sit - and sit, and patch and knead,
Cook a ragout, reheat your hashes,
Blow at the sparks and try to breed
A fire out of piles of ashes!
Children and apes may think it great,
If that should titillate your gum,
But from heart to heart you will never create.
If from your heart it does not come."
(from Faust I)

"I brake for butterflies"

Much converse do I find in thee,
Historian of my infancy!
Float near me; do not yet depart!
Dead times revive in thee:
Thou bring'st, gay creature as thou art!
A solemn image to my heart.
William Wordsworth

Thanks dw - an inspiration, as always!

I took these pictures at the Butterfly Pavalion in Colorado.

anyone lived in a pretty how town

I was inspired to begin this website while enjoying a blog from far away. Thank you Fezoca! http://blog.fezocaonline.com/index.html

I've always loved e.e. cummings too. The first time I heard this poem was many years ago while watching the movie Prince of Tides. In the movie it is read aloud to a woman in a hospital bed who recently survived a suicide attempt.

anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn't he danced his did

Women and men (both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn't they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain

children guessed (but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more

when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone's any was all to her

someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then) they
said their nevers they slept their dream

stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down)

one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was

all by all and deep by deep
and more by more they dream their sleep
noone and anyone earth by april
wish by spirit and if by yes.

Women and men (both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain

E.E. Cummings