Sober Eight

One day, in the month of October 2013, I drank my last alcoholic beverage. I don’t remember the exact date. There wasn’t any hoopla, I didn’t make a conscious decision about it—I just quit.

For too many years, I was a co-dependent, willing participant in dysfunctional alcoholic relationships. Memories I wish didn’t exist disturb my sober mind, retribution for drunken activities participated in and ones witness to...

My drinking life was a lie, though some of it was really beautiful. She makes sure to remind you of the good times, too. She’s insidious that way, alcohol. My only regret is that I didn’t break up with her sooner. Eight years. Grateful.

Peace

Balance

Last night. Summer’s last evening, its last breath—air motionless and muffled, dripping thick with so much moisture it was like breathing underwater. The full moon failed to pierce the veil, her muted glow amplified the silence in macabre perfection.

I woke this morning to the blessed breath of Autumn, kindly blown in on a continuous North-North-Westerly breeze. Big, fluffy, bright white cumulus clouds ride that current in a steady stream across high pressure blue skies—a fifteen degree drop in temperature, my gratitude is abundant!

Time marches on. One moment it’s heavy and suffocating, the next you can breathe. You must have the former to appreciate the latter. Life is balance. As much as I loathe the platitude, “this, too, shall pass,” it is a great Truth. Focus on the good, be thankful for every moment and be kind.

Peace.

Amateur Recluse

I recently added, “amateur recluse,” to a profile bio. I have zero shame in admitting that—hell, it’s been a long time coming. It just feels right with my soul.

Age, gives us the benefit of hindsight, which, when lovingly sown, grows wisdom. This is the time of my life—the time I was meant to Be—everything my silent, mindful heart never dreamed of.

Recluse? Well, not fully...yet, but age wears me well and I will express my gratitude for every moment passing, until she wears me, no more.

Connect with Spirit. Be kind to one another. Keep Love in your hearts. Forgive yourself. Peace.

Grandmothers

I woke up the other morning thinking about my grandmother, Nanee. She was the quintessential grandmother—her essence, unconditional love and her home the embodiment of it. Many of my best childhood memories were made there: a simple cardboard box filled with old wooden toys, vacation Bible school, cinnamon toast, a cuckoo clock striking the hour, the smell of my Pawpaw’s pipe, a tall ceramic Siamese cat perched on the hearth, bubble baths, butter beans eaten with a toothpick, an old McCoy’s cookie jar and this green communal water jug, to name a scant few.

This is not THE jug, but it is the closest I could find on eBay. Everyone in the house, all the kids from the neighborhood—we all drank icy cold water from this vessel. We were a circle of hot and sweaty kids standing on cool linoleum with dirty bare feet in the light of the open fridge slugging water, smiling at each other, wiping our mouths with the back of our arms...I never saw Nanee refill it. It was always full and always ice cold. It was magic, just like childhood ought to be. Thanks Nanee.

Peace

LIVE!!

Spending less time on social media unquestionably has its perks. As a writer, the flip side of that is getting absolutely nothing done. Eh. Life is short and managing ten plus platforms is making me crazy, so I stepped away for a bit.

I laughed more, took more scenic drives with the fam bam, enjoyed the art of mid-day napping, worked in the yard, played endless games of catch with our crazy canine, learned how fun Jackbox TV can be, ate ice cream for dinner—no schedule, no rules, just lived in the moment and loved every drop of joy in my cup that runneth over.

This world is filled with beauty, wonder, love and kindness if that is where your focus lies. God is so good. Trust Him. Love Him. Love one another. Be grateful for right now because it's all we have. Take a deep breath, throw the rule book out, and LIVE!!

Peace

Blurb About Bare Feet

Just stepped outside to check the mail. What a glorious day—sixty-six degrees, light breeze, clear blue skies and I was barefoot. The instant my feet made contact with the solar warmed driveway, I felt a sweet, simple childhood memory wash over me and breathed in the springtime perfection of my youth.

Going barefoot before summer was strictly verboten, house rules about getting sick or some such nonsense. Sometimes being a latchkey kid had its perks and on a day like today, you could find me and my friends after school, playing outside barefoot until the asphalt cooled and our feet were sore. It was a great time to be alive.

 

LOVE

They say that one person can make a difference. Maybe that used to be true—it seems nowadays, one voice only echoes off skyscraping pillars of social media oligarchs, destined for silence no matter how high the pedestal from which it's shouted.

The world is changing, and it's changing fast, faster than any other time in history, I dare say. Those who would disagree with me, I sincerely respect your opposing view and perhaps we could start a civil dialog that doesn't digress into name calling and execution in the public forum. No really, have you peeked into the thread of a sensitive topic lately?! It's brutal.

I believe it's fear that drives the masses to anger, paranoia, misplaced hatred and violence. Life is too short to be wasted with that kind of behavior. Jesus said to love God and to love one another—that these were the most important commandments. We'd better start doing better. We'd better start talking to the Almighty and we'd better start listening. We'd better start raising our frequency to a higher vibration, the highest vibration, Love. Maybe that's the only difference this ol' gal can make, but it's the one that matters most.

Peace

 

No Better Medicine

I don't sleep well—haven't for years. Used to be drinking that kept me from a solid eight, now, it's anyone's guess. Last night it was Valkyrie. She was on me, not beside me, ON me most of the night—my slightest adjustment eliciting Oscar worthy groans and yawns from Her Majesty. Maybe I keep HER awake with my snoring, but no matter, there is no better way to start the day than this...stinky Frito paw in my face, fifty plus pounds of dead weight on my torso and the most expressive, expectant, soulful eyes in the Universe staring at me every morning like it's the first time.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, for me, there is no better medicine for depression than our dog. She takes me out of self every day and allows me to see the world through her eyes. There is nothing but this moment for her, every single one a miracle—balls, birds, car rides, frosty paw treats—it's all pure bliss. I am so grateful for these hours, small and monumental as they are.

I hope you are all having a blessed day.

Peace

Memories

I hope you all enjoyed your Easter weekend, however you chose to celebrate it. I spent the morning with Jesus and the afternoon cleaning out the garage—boxes upon boxes that have been stored and moved countless times and for what? I realized today, that my life is in those dirty, collapsing, brown cardboard squares—so many pictures, so many memories frozen in time that almost never see the light of day.

Beach scenes, birthdays, loved ones, a wedding, growing children—all scattered and out of sequence yet they paint a picture of a seemingly happy life. I remember that life. I was miserable. I tried like hell to pretend I was normal. I was married to a successful man, had a lovely home, perfect kids, but I was lost. Lost and so lonely. You never know what demons people face, or what lengths they go to, to hide it.

I will be 53 in a few weeks. I am not lost anymore. I am not lonely. I prefer quiet contemplation to casual conversation. I have gray hair and curves, and I am confident with that. I am happy, most days. I still battle my demons—I always will. Wisdom is the crown I wear every day, knowing that all we have is Now. My boxes, my pictures, my frozen moments, remind me of who I am and how far I have come in this life, for which I am so grateful.

Peace

Have A Conversation With God

About twenty years ago, my mother gave me a copy of Conversations With God. I secretly said, “pfffftt,” and shelved it. It sat there, gleaming white and pristine, beckoning me—nay, taunting me, daring me to read it.

When I finally acquiesced, it literally changed my life. As you can see, I have quite a collection of works by Neale Donald Walsch, more than twenty in fact. I have read them all—some several, several times! My original copy of Book 1 is now care worn, highlighted and annotated in different pens, pencils and scripts. I wouldn’t want it any other way.

These books began, for me, a long period of self reflection and healing what was broken inside. They are still relevant. They are still powerful. They still move me to tears. I feel very blessed and so thankful for my mother who slipped a book into my hands hoping I would find something of myself that was lost. I did, and a whole lot more...

Highly recommend. Start with Book 1, go slow, take it in and feel the aaahhhh wash over you!!

 

High Pressure Blue

I call days like today, high pressure blue, and they are my favorite. They almost always follow stormy weather—sharp color, crisp breeze, a rising half-moon, does it get any better than this? For me, the answer is no. This day can erase weeks of sadness. This day reminds me of unlimited potential waiting to become breathing reality. This day is a day to reset. Focus. Listen. I hear the faraway shrill of a soaring hawk, the cacophony of caws from a murder of unseen crows and the sweet peeps of birds hiding deep in the neighbor’s Leyland Cypress. I am humbled and ever so grateful for Life. It has been a good day.

Peace

My Favorite Things

First light

Songbirds

Morning dew

Crisp inhale

Hot coffee

Loyal friend

Warm embrace

Favorite chair

Laughter

Golden hour

A good book

Quiet thoughts

Happy memories

Sharing just a few of my favorite things. Living in the moment, I have learned to count many things once taken for granted, as divine. I do this daily, and I do it often. I seek to find all the beauty of the day...

What are some of your favorite things?

The Perfect Day

Somewhere, between Spring and Summer, there lies a perfect morning waiting to be born. It will be a day of abundant sunshine, clear blue skies and an ever so slight breeze that brings with it the fragrant smells of sweet alyssum and geranium.

I imagine a smile forms on my lips as I close my eyes, tilt my head back and inhale. The Earth is alive with the sounds of songbirds and honey bees. My best friend drops a slobber covered ball at my feet and I open my eyes just in time to catch the N number on a low flying single engine Cessna.

This, as yet, unborn perfect day, will include fresh squeezed lemonade, and a garden hose, a wet dog and an abundance of laughter. Morning floral perfume will be replaced by late afternoon lighter fluid and charcoal grills, hamburgers and hot dogs flaming under black enameled lids.

Full tummies and sun-kissed pink cheeks take a moment to stargaze at Ursa Major and Leo...can they be as easily recognized as Orion? He dominated the night sky just a few months before. Quiet contemplation of our place in an infinite universe is humbling. The chill of Spring claims the evening, and we are reminded that she still reigns, not ready to relinquish her season just yet.

Pondering a perfect day. Complete in my gratitude. Blessed beyond measure. Peace and mindfulness, my daily disposition. Be a light in the darkness, and be kind whenever possible...it's always possible.

Faith over Fear.