The dumpster dive, the tuna salad, the story...

(originally published 02/02/09)

A retelling of a tale... about a Big Fish.

Big Fish hooked!

The lunch room was empty, he had forgotten to bring along a companion to his tuna salad sandwich- a reading companion. And the remnants from the lunch crowd earlier produced no magazines, or even a snippet of the sports page. So he took to digging in the trash...for reading material. He was desperate, bored- tuna salad made too blandly could only be savored by reading material- taking one's mind off not enough mustard and too much mayo. His dumpster dive produced a Sunday edition of the Bangor Daily News- and even it was only a segment- the sappy kind that women read or sissy boys get all emotional over. An AP article caught his eye because of the gardening byline- he loved to garden. The tuna salad experience was looking up. He read and ate...finished up his lunch and threw the BDN back into the bin. And worked his way through till the end of his day- punched the time clock and headed home. That's it. End of story?! 

Man goes to work, has tuna salad for lunch, reads sissy segment in paper only because there was nothing else more he-man like to entertain him, tosses paper into garbage and finishes out his day.

Except- something he had read in that article tugged at him as he pulled into his driveway, some 20 odd miles away from his work place. Something weird, mysterious- so alluring, he turned his Toyota around and drove back, willingly- to the place of hard work for some 30 plus years- parked his truck, nodded to the guard (who probably thought it was pretty odd to see the man back at work after only clocking out some 40 minutes ago...) made a beeline (well, maybe not a beeline- more like a pilgrimage...OK, this part I'm trying to make sound more interesting) for the lunch room. To go dumpster diving again. Only- this time, there was no tuna salad, no need for passing the time with a good read...this time- the need was- truly, he didn't know. He only knew that something made him silly enough to waste time and a gallon of gas. So- for the second time that day, the man dug through the trash- this time more excited, more deliberate, more...nuts.

The dumpster dive, the tuna salad, the story... for whatever reasons, these strange combinations drove the man right out of his mind...and into his heart. He picked up a pen and paper and wrote to the subject of the story on gardening...just to say hello. Just to say I'm thinking about you, just to say-

"I've never done anything like this, I hope you don't think I'm odd- I just felt compelled to write to you and tell you I think you're a beautiful person. I just wanted to get in touch, hoped it would mean something to you, to let you know you should keep doing what you're doing..."

That's what Big Fish do...out of the ordinary, extraordinarily kind, wondrous things. They send an envelope to the Community Center in the local nearest little town, with a note explaining-" Please put this lady's address on this envelope if you would, and forward it to her. I'm from Maine and just needed to get this message to her. Thanks."

As of September 2007, this Mainiac and I have been pen pals. He didn't even own a computer or cell phone- he preferred going to the ocean, gardening , walking in the woods, listening to the radio. The Radio!!! I have since transformed him just a little bit- now there's a CD player, a computer (he hates it), and he did own a cell phone for a little while, but chucked it somewhere, probably into the deep Atlantic off some rocky shore.

He flew out here last March...and the rest, as they say- is history. He now commutes infrequently, meeting folks from all over the globe in his travels. He doesn't know a stranger, gives his seat up in busy airports to little old ladies and women with children. Tips his hat, and says stuff like-"Hey Bud!" and "Wat an Aushol!" and "Deah-could I have a drink of watah?" On his first ever trip here, he was a bit nervous- so the guy next to him, naturally charmed I'm sure- gave him a red key pass. (Apparently, there are secret little wonderful club rooms in certain airports where, with one of these keys- you get treated like Mick Jagger.) And now the guy(from Seattle) visits Maine to see the Big Fish and they've formed a friendship. Every time my BF flies, he meets, or better word- connects to other folks through his friendly, Maine-bear hug-like charm.

(So many times I get- "Why'd you come to Maine?!!  How did you meet The Big Fish?"...well, this story is how and partially why.

 And, our story continues...I am now a Mrs. Big Fish as of 12/21/12 and could never have conceived of this particular happiness.  We grow together.)

Chicken Coop Manifesto

 So what teaching is it that you would need to explore in order to transform your distress into wisdom? Rob Brezsny

 I would like nothing more than to bypass that question, head on out to the little Hoop-Dee-Doo House and hang out with the chickens.  But, me being a true wonder and all...that is a great question worth pondering.

It is good to be as smart as a chicken and that may not sound like the ultimate goal for any sky-high thinker but! the Big Fish and I have contended that maybe a good part of the population isn't...  so- we kind of look to the poultry for common sense...

Similarities I have observed between the two subjects-

 People vs. Chickens

Pecking Order

Pretty much the same, but people pretend to be mannerly when deep inside they're seething-"Hey bud!  I was here first..." - we should peck back sometimes.

Laying eggs

 *kind of, sort of- you know- like how we really get puffed up and clucky when we hatch a new idea.  

. 

Making sure Basic Needs are met- water, feed, shelter, safety in numbers, etc.

  (of course not all people score well here...just saying.)

Communication

Talk, talk, cluck, cluck- thing is, chickens are actually listening to one another better- I observe.  Doesn't take long for the slowest among them to catch on to the wisest and act accordingly.

Comfy spot/shelter

Hard to say here, more observation needed.  (As soon as I'm done with this all too-time-encompassing post, I'll research some more- from a comfy spot...)

Joyful pursuits (No great scientist will ever tell me that chickens don't know joy-a fly loose in coop to a chicken would be like me singing back up for Emmy Lou Harris, joy, joy, joy!!) 

OK, keep trying to follow me here...sure, none of the above can be provided by a chicken- we as their keepers bring much of it about, but after the four walls and a roof, basic stuff is provided- the chickens do the rest, impeccably I might add...hope I didn't lose you with that one...there's more-

Should a shadow appear over their yard, in they go to safety- but only after one of the smarter pluckier ones squawks out an alarm. 

If the feed/water dish should run dry, they don't stand around worrying- they get right to work on scratching and picking up every little thing they might have missed in the ever bustling scamper for anything yummy.

I have also observed that a chicken never feels sorry for itself, even if it loses it's place in the order.  They simply take a licking and keep on keeping on...eventually, they learn to stand up for themselves and struggle mightily to proceed to the top of the order again.

But every now and then, one of those silly sometimes not as smart as your average chicken chickens- surprises me. 

There is one little old gal out there who takes no crap off of anybody.(Including me!)  She never ceases and desists, never takes her eye off the prize she seeks and yes I suppose it might be said that if worse came to worse she would die for the good eggs she loyally sits upon.  And should a common enemy confront all of them- well, this little plucky soul would perish perhaps by fighting off the intruder, not just for her self or the eggs but the whole cockle doodling group.   I know this because if one of the group's inhabitants gets her feathers ruffled by me throwing the door open too quickly, thereby surprising the flightiest one- the brave, seemingly independent one charges me. 

The message given- Proceed with caution, or else!!!

The message taken-Geez, that chicken is doing something so unchicken-like it's freaking me out, she's so little and yet...so fearless!

Which leads me to wonder AND answer the question left hanging way up above there- 

The teaching, the base line lesson that might transform my distress into wisdom?  

Worry is just another way to not confront fear.  It absolutely changes nothing as my health, my head, my heart and my hope suffer.  It belittles all those aspects of me, it actually sickens my soul.  Believe me, I have only recently figured this out.  I have been ill.  

Really ill...high blood pressure.  Lethargy.  Hopelessness.  I can handle dreams being cancelled, thoughts being outgrown, love leaving and honest hostility but no hope AND bad health?!  Well, I wouldn't be a true wonder anymore, I'd be compost, pushing up daisies and that sort of thing.  Yikes.  It took some physical ills to come around to acknowledging not only are we what we eat, we are what we think.  We are what we feel.  We are weak if we say we are.  We are strong when we act accordingly.  And we are at our lowest when we allow  doubts to drown out all of who we are. 

 Luck has not been good as of late, challenges coming right, then left- over the wall and up through chimney...yet my stress response darn near nearly killed me.  And even though my little black hen didn't say all of that to me...in a way, she showed me how to handle the ups and downs a little better.

Conduct Befitting a Good Egg

The Chicken Coop Manifesto

Be tenacious, even when the going gets ugly.

  At worst, you'll lose a few feathers.

  At best- you'll ruffle a few.*

Be who you are- exactly.

(Not sure who you exactly are?  Turn off TV, radio, news,internet,people who vex your very soul,books,busy roads,etc...you will find out and grow more of who you were meant to be.  Might be a poet, might be a hero, might just be you.  A chicken is a chicken is a charming bird with character.)

Love everyone, even the assholes. *(see # 1)

**though consider the bottom line

Would you risk your life for just about any one?

Then, why not your grace too?!

Don't let the bastards get you down.

(And that may be your self in the telling...we are hardest on ourselves.  My little black hen struts her tiny stuff and the so-called cock of the walk* backs down sometimes.)

Stand your ground.

(You may not be first in line, ever.  But that doesn't mean you have to take any crap off the other chickens either. We are all a little chicken about some little big thing.)

Be Brilliant in your plumage.

(Dress to impress your self.  Fluff your feathers when you damn well feel like it.)

Question everything.

  (Including your self.  What motivates your actions? My chickens  put up a big fuss, like questioning...when the snow covers their hoop-house home, blocking the sun. ) 

Be kind when it is warranted and even, maybe...when it is not.

(A good broody hen will never leave the nest and will peck your eyes out given the opportunity- but a better chicken will step aside and let others lay eggs in her humble and warm nest...so that I might easily collect the eggs.)  These are my rules and this is how I see it.

  Take care of the children.

  (And if the brood watching the children needs instruction, do it.  Children, chicks are the only ones entitled to our little wise hen-ness direction.  That doesn't mean telling someone how to do it, it means taking opportunities that arise to teach for the benefit of the little ones. )

Those that do, succeed.

Those that don't- won't.  Nothing.  Ever.

(Success doesn't always come from an end result, sometimes- it is a minute by minute reaching further, risk-taking-small-time-step ongoing adventure. Like a little chick sticking it's head through the chicken wire and grabbing up the fattest bugs.)

Do not take good health for granted.

(What a gift breath is.  What a joy swallowing is.  What a blessing upon blessings sight,taste,hearing,touch,feeling is. When a chicken is in moult, she seeks shelter more often than not and takes the time to let her health glow again.)

Life is a blast.

(Every time I open the hoop house door, there stands the little black hen- ready to take a gust of wind or a shower of snow.)  

Seek shelter when shadows appear, but when they have gone- come out into the sun and

 Crow about the light. 

* Verne

**Bottom line

(Anyone and I don't give a spit who you are...if you neglect, harm, exploit a child- all bets are off.  There should be no cover, no shelter for you- I do not care what brought you to your demise, do not harm children.  Period.

I will never be so enlightened to see a lesson in the suffering of children.

I have never said this on my blog but I strongly feel that some crimes should be handed over to Mother Nature, and there should be sharks and grizzlies involved.  And that goes for Military funeral protesters too. If you agree somewhat- write a damn letter.  Post it to your social networks.  Think freely and act accordingly.  Oh...and please listen to Mumford and Sons.   They are partially responsible for my lack of diplomacy.  Awake My Soul- say that aloud and often enough and true wonder is what you get.)

12 states to get here

Watching the shooting stars last night gliding easily, invisibly edging out the dark...oh how I wondered.  And thought.  And recalled...

To infinity and beyond....

The last week of visiting and traveling with three young ladies to the beaches and mountains and fields aplenty of Maine.  That's three young ladies with Facebook pages mind you...meaning- little time for me to post to the blog.

There was bed swapping and cooking, cuddling, adventures!!!  Oh the week went too fast, the time spent- something of an eternal quality in all of it.  These girls, little girls I call them, have always called them...but oh how fast they have grown and evolved into "Amelia" of Earhart fame, "Bess" my own sweet, now redheaded child and "HK" the truly luminous imp who came to know me and I her through her mama, but now completely- I see her as her own, what a joy- this trio.  "HK" had never been to the ocean.  "Bess" became smitten with a pen-pal, holding hands and being beautiful in a way I had never seen before... and- "Amelia" the bold, brazen yet calmest of the three appeared also serene.  Each brought here their stories yet I suspect- each left here with an inkling of a life changing adventure into the heart of Maine while hand in hand into the heart core of young adults.  Wide eyed adventurers with texting ability, yikes!  I was so sure, so very mama-adult-assured-you'll-miss-so-much-while-keeping-tabs-on-the-memoryless-cell phones.  When I'm wrong, I back down.  When I'm right, I stand firmly on sure footed ground...these gals moved me, not so much back but very certainly over a bit.  While texting, talking, giggling, arguing,smiling- they truly saw it all and I, well- I looked too at what they saw.   And yes, I believed it all possible too, the anything goes of youth.  My little girls have wowed me, left me with more and less of concern for their paths.  They may not know completely where they're going (they took on 12 states to get here...my oh my, now that's another story altogether!) but I think they'll get there in the grandest style of their own choosing, my little girls so completely their own.

I miss that door creaking open and shut so much...they- often out on the deck, talking in their circles while under the great circle of sky and stars and wonder...did they take it all in, I wonder...  Did they believe so much in all they encountered or am I hopelessly, romantically dreaming they did and am affected  thus so- hmmmmm, hard to say.

  

I miss that bathroom brigade, make up artist and blow drying nonsense since the ocean's winds would discourage all that...

I miss the lumpy bumps on the Futon and in the Queen sized bed while the Big Fish and I hunkered down wherever a bed was free...sometimes caving in the old decrepit mattresses in the guest rooms, his old bones and mine- while the youthful ladies spent dreamlike hours upon the comfiest beds.

I miss gathering from the gardens all the fresh herbs and vittles fit for little Queens and paupers such as us too.

I miss most, now hear this- mostly I miss the laughter, the lightness of it all that floated here and there and all around for one week.

Rainbow end to end

My Illinois girls, Hk, Bess and Amelia- ahhhh, your wings so strong yet pliable like soft fresh feathers not yet fully formed.

Illinois Girls

Take care!

a tale of two soaps

You know, if you think about it...love isn’t really a noun- it’s a verb, an action- and when it takes flight, completely free of any human control, it becomes of itself.  Now I can’t write it like it’s supposed to be said…I get all squirmy.  I guess the point I’m trying to make here- when one expects material diamonds that’s what one may get.  But when one ceases to expect, instead- surrendering, throwing one’s hands up into the air, saying “I just don’t know how this is all suppose to play out,  I give up!”  Somehow, somewhere- it is heard as a prayer, a sincere giving in,  the walls come tumbling down…and all the unexpected diamonds in the rough begin to shine.

Now the trick to keep love flowing and flying is to leave it alone.  To quit poking holes in it with too many questions…very hard for this here over thinker.  What if I don’t expect anniversaries, longevity, even flowers come Sunday- can I live with that?  I don’t know...verb that it is, love keeps me on my toes.

  I chased love across a parking lot the other night, as it became angry- and followed it to bed where it mellowed.  It became talking and laughing and finally- sleeping.  The morning found it curiously seeking a remedy, but none was needed as it became forgiving, simply by letting go and laughing.   Love becomes action if one allows it, I think.  When one tries to commandeer love- like putting a dam up and trying to contain all of it’s goodness in a pool, something of it ceases to flow- stagnating it. 

I started this whole post out completely different from what you’re reading here.  Matter of fact- I wrote the whole column last week, after stepping into the shower and becoming profoundly affected by- two bars of soap.  Isn’t that silly?  I even took a picture as soon as I slipped out of there- those two soaps with significantly different ingredients spoke to me of my relationship with the Big Fish.  And I truly cannot explain what it meant to me to see them there- side by side.

  I only know that I feel something unimagined and for lack of better words- not perfect, but it’s right.  And it flows, on and on, in and out…I don’t know what to make of it, I don’t even know what else to say here…ain’t love grand?  Ain’t it a pain? And soapy and soggy and all too wonderful much of the time, and slow like molasses when I wish it would keep up.  And quiet- like snow sometimes and all in a rage like a thunderstorm too.  Sometimes it’s pale- like an eggshell though sometimes it’s as vivid and bright as a twelve year old’s memory of a candy red new bicycle.  It’s cumulative of all the goodness I’ve ever known- this love does that, bringing back those snippets in heaps. 

With all that felt and said in only the way of a true romantic or an unhinged mind…may everyone who reads this find that simple something in their shower or in that dish they're washing, or in that lumpy, crumpled-up bed that needs made…because love made those messes, not to be tolerated or even obligated by ceremonial oaths- I think that’s just how love lives and beckons us to be- aware of it’s sublimities.  

Enough from me…what do you think? 

Is love something we make up as we go along? 

Is it a verb or a noun? 

Is it something you hold onto or is it best let go…should there be expectations?

(Take care-)

There'll be laughter

There'll be laughter, even after-

You're gone.

I'll find reason, to face

That empty dawn

For I've memorized each line in your face

And not even death could ever replace-

The stories they tell to me.

I'll miss you...Oh how I'll miss you...

And I'll cry a million tears

But the sorrow will pass

And the one thing that will last-

Is the love..you've given...to me.

There'll be laughter...

written by Iris Dement

A good friend recently lost her dear-sweet husband too soon. I had written in the past of having friends (I'm very blessed with incredible friends who share their lives with me and teach me oh-so-much about love.)

who are truly living lessons in devotion to their mates. This couple were my number two teachers. Yep- I've got another set of soul mates who had been my model for what it must be like to live for an other's happiness. These two couples could not be separated, even in names. They were always the two names said in one breath, in one instance. Death was the only thing that could ever part any of them physically. And death has entered in and left a striking void...and all I can attest too at this time, for this I know and know too well; love never really dies. For them, for their families- mountains may seem like their twin. And for some time, there they will stand in the shadow of the mountain and they'll wonder, waking and in their dreams- how they'll ever get over it.

These things I write here are not meant to sadden but to make aware - the people who share your life are gifts of love. A blessing that must be kissed frequently, reprimanded gently in an argument and loved completely at all times. That's how one moves mountains, by knowing in time- that all was said and all was done, that there will be laughter again because you knew it oh so sweetly before, gratefully acknowledging that no one else could have made you smile so. No one else could have filled you up and made you know more everything than might ever have been discovered or even wished for on your own.

The song up above says so much more than I could ever conjure up. I sang it this morning, thinking of E-and-Jim. I sang it once more- just to see if I could get through it without the waterworks.

How death humbles us, weakens us, batters us- but never, when love is involved- diminishes us.

There'll be laughter...

The Young Pioneers

Speaking of the future in past posts, I thought it a good time to speak of my favorite future pioneers-my children and some of their accomplices. Now make sure you caught that last word- not accomplishments, but accomplices. Never will you hear me speak of my children as in perfection. After all...poor kids- look who their role model is.

First we have Emma, I haven't shed much light on that major source of light in my life. She no longer lives at home and isn't all that impressed by me exposing her personal history. But, I'm just going to take a shot here, knock down her walls a bit by writing about her. My eldest daughter is boisterous, loving, laughing, livid, lovely and crazy. Matter of fact- she herself says she has a "black belt in crazy." She is the kind of person that would bring life into a room , everyone present would be wondering if there had been a power surge- the room would remain lit up, even after her exit. It is hard to write about this dear, she is constantly evolving...hard to describe. Emma is a rush. Never a trickle but a full cascade. Bigger than life, this one. Imagine her journeys...

And now, drum roll please...Mathew. My son, my big, big boy. He wandered in today to show me his two new lip piercings. AAAARRRRGGGGHHH! And yet...whatever. It's your face sunshine...do what you want. My only negative comment was-"Are you sure that is employable?!" But...he also looked pretty trendy in a hip sort of way. He thought so too, and felt pretty cute about the whole thing. He is one smart cookie, too smart sometimes...and this lands him into deep conflicts with himself. He questions everything...I admire this trait and abhor it all at the same time. (Although, he may just be a chip off the old block.) Another comedian here...it's hard to stay mad at Mathew, he'll say something funny and I just have to leave the room...in peels of laughter (some times while pulling my hair out...)Mathew is a big ship in a little stream. He hasn't quite yet learned the tricky navigation to get down stream and out into the ocean...but there is no doubt in my mind, he will.

And then there's Lily- the artist, the activist, the hula hooping mediator. Lily is the last one at home...the youngest of four and finally getting her say. She speaks more so in hushed tones, drawing out statements from long thought out perspectives. She is reserved, but never shy- many make this mistake about her. Sometimes our conversations go like this," Ma- have you ever considered the deep cosmos and how they are ever changing but in a sense, due to the time extensions of the universe- slow and seemingly unchanging compared to the vast waves of change here on earth?" Me-"HUH?!" Talk about contemplating...she often has to explain her big sentences (as in broader views) in smaller words for her dear "Ma" as she calls me. We never have arguments, we have discussions. And she usually goes so far over my head that I then- rebel. "Oh yeah?! Well, um....your room is a mess, Missy. Go clean it." Trump baby, trump. Oh yeah-



My adopted boy, Eric- oh what a fine man. I took this boy to heart several years ago-never was I given a choice. My eldest son, Beau- would come home with little Eric tagging along. "Mom, he will always be here for supper on Sunday and part of this family, understand?" An ultimatum rarely given by my son- so of course I did understand. It meant that Beau had adopted Eric as a brother and we would respect and love him too. We do. Even after the Marine gig, the tours, always the visits home would include Beau first gathering up Eric and walking through the door, often together. And now, our Eric joins us always in light and dark and we love him and expect him to soar, as he "makes his dreams come true...and he decides the rest." (Besides, he's got Katie by his side...what more could a man want?! Kater-tot, a good woman and teacher too. Hint, hint....good woman, hard to come by mister.)



Now Beka is the last of the adoptees, well maybe not the last...but we took her to our heart often enough to be filled by her grace. Now, we overflow and can't keep it all to ourselves- yes sirreee, she taught us well. Oh, and soon- she'll be the teacher you hope your children get- the one that will remain in their hearts, even when their 90. Beka doesn't leave impressions so much as she leaves love every where...she's lovely and loving and kinder than most. But...I've seen her riled, oooohhh, don't get her ire up. When folks such as Beka, true through and through- get a little bent out of shape by the misdeeds of another who is not so true, just mean- well, it's kind of like a lightening storm, the strike is a humbling lesson. Yes, a teacher with integrity and a lofty spirit.



Kylee, always in my heart a daughter- her first child will be my grandchild- regardless. And her groom, a son in law- a friend and loving man. We could not have hoped for a better union of love...Matt was heaven sent.


Oh, and Miss Rhi- there is blood between us and love all around. I've known her since she was born- blond and blue eyed and ornery and sweet all at the same time. I don't get to spend as much time with her now that she's older and working and always busy. But when I do- she's like a little grasshopper, showing me constantly how she's grown, teaching me things I could not learn had it not been for her perspective and liveliness midst a family from the dark ages-Ha! I'm the black sheep of the family, only I don't deny it- the rest of the brood are all gathered like sheep and living in the year 1900. "Women are meant to breed, be quiet, wait on the menfolk...." AAARRRGGHHH- Can you imagine? My family thinks I am preposterous, "Who does that woman think she is?" Rhi always seemed to think there might be more to me....thought my company was beautiful. Although, we know we're loved- it's just like picking that love out of an English Walnut...having to reallllly work hard at it. One must have realllly thick skin and accept that Neanderthals are alive and well in our own family tree.

So- the young pioneers in my life are all so very fascinating, their interests lie in things that matter... love, kindness and a family that wasn't necessarily raised under the same roof, but feels like family all the same. In my teens, I was the tomboy girl who said I'd never have children. By the time I was 30, I had had my four beautiful babies. And I always wanted more...and I got them- love always creates. When I die, let them judge me by my company of friends...and family.

Be well and take care- oh! And remember- Children are the future, can we all agree to make it a brighter one for them? In all my life, always- it was a child who offered me the brightest potential, problems and joy. The memories I keep are the ones a child created with their sense of wonder and fairness.

Essentially, a story....

"You've got to dance like there's nobody watching, and love like it is never gonna hurt."

A friend sent me the pic above...just like him to share such things... that matter. I think I'll declare this the official Quote Blog today. Some favorites of mine, perhaps mixed in with some you all comment with. Totally interactive today- Hey! We might even learn something or two, and turn around and share it with the folks around us. Except the teens- they don't listen, I usually copy things and leave it in the bathroom- if I want them to absorb a wisdom- best place I know to get their attention. It works...rarely. There is a sign in the bathroom: NOTICE: Changing the toilet paper roll WILL NOT cause brain damage!
That sign only reaffirms their belief that they must rebel- they now leave a toilet paper roll right above the sign. Precious angels.

The acid of bitterness eats the container that holds it.

Long enough have you timidly waded, holding a plank by the shore,
Now I will you to be a bold swimmer...from song of myself-Walt Whitman

"Look with the eyes of your soul and engage the essential," teaching of the Q'ero

Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind. Dr. seuss

“Sometimes you put walls up not to keep people out, but to see who cares enough to break them down."

"...Child of our time -haven't you found the right shell for your soul?" Edith Sodergran

"Seek out that particular mental attribute which makes you feel most deeply and vitally alive, along with which comes the inner voice which says, 'This is the real me,' and when you have found that attitude, follow it." -- James Truslow Adams

"Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts." -- Rachel Louise Carson

"I do believe love is blind....sometimes I think it has to be." truewonder

There are two ways of spreading light; to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.
Edith Wharton

"Some tension is necessary for the soul to grow, and we can put that tension to good use. We can look for every opportunity to give and receive love, to appreciate nature, to heal our wounds and the wounds of others, to forgive, and to serve." -- Joan Borysenko

Truth is a deep kindness that teaches us to be content in our everyday life and share with the people the same happiness. Kahlil Gibran

"...And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should..." Desiderata Max Ehrrman

"Remember, thou canst be brought into no condition, be it ever so severe, where Love has not been before thee and where its tender lesson is not awaiting thee." Mary Baker Eddy

“I’m really advertising to the public how easy it is to be good without an attitude; it’s just as easy to show decency as it is to hate today.”The Pigeon Man, Mr. Zeman

Essentially, a story expresses how and why life changes. --Robert McKee

Harvey and I sit in the bars... have a drink or two... play the juke box. And soon the faces of all the other people they turn toward mine and they smile. And they're saying, "We don't know your name, mister, but you're a very nice fella." Harvey and I warm ourselves in all these golden moments. We've entered as strangers - soon we have friends. And they come over... and they sit with us... and they drink with us... and they talk to us. They tell about the big terrible things they've done and the big wonderful things they'll do. Their hopes, and their regrets, and their loves, and their hates. All very large, because nobody ever brings anything small into a bar. And then I introduce them to Harvey... and he's bigger and grander than anything they offer me. And when they leave, they leave impressed. The same people seldom come back; but that's envy, my dear. There's a little bit of envy in the best of us.

and also...
"Years ago my mother used to say to me, she'd say, "In this world, Elwood, you must be" - she always called me Elwood - "In this world, Elwood, you must be oh so smart or oh so pleasant." Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant. You may quote me." Elwood P. Dowd/Jimmy Stewart in Harvey

"Love many trust few and always paddle your own canoe." Not sure who said this, but it sure speaks well to me.

Thanks for sticking around-hope you will enlighten too...with some of your own favorite quotes. Take care-

(Oh my favorite...can't leave it out, wear it around my wrist..from beyond...)
...If you give up the time, your soul will play the song..."
Beau G. Robbins-USMC-Corporal-Wonderous son-(found in his journal, after...)

Taking Stalk

The days are winding down, the road of 07 is just about to end...the places I went! The places I'll still go on my meandering trip here in a few days. An educational trip it will be...oh the poor people I'll run into-I'll probably leave 'em scratching their heads,"Huh?! What was that all about? That lady just kicked JimBob's butt in pool, made him cry-and then he thanked her!" Or "Good Lord that gal can eat, her legs must be hollow-where'd she put it all?!" And most hopefully-"Sure was good to meet you!" Don't worry you all-the pics I'll snap should be a story every one, and the story...well, it won't be of the big fish variety. I try to be true, every word-sometimes my measurement of this world's wonder is more expansive than some, but...that is just how I see it, multi dimensional.
Now back to the places I went in 07:

Stayed in the Heartbreak Hotel for awhile, a permanent residence for some, not for me.

Grew a life with more manure than the experts say is healthy. Gotta do something with B.S though.

Watched the people I love shine brighter than they had in a loooong time-had to wear shades around 'em.

Caught a realllly big fish, had to put him back for awhile-he was big as could be, it was I that needed to grow a bit...

Sat underneath the darkest sky many nights, but the stars that penetrated that darkness were the brightest I'd ever seen.

Learned more from the weeds growing through the cracks of cement out my back door than I did from anything else I cultivated.

Found out that ice and snow flows in some people's veins...and no matter what you do to warm them up, they still remain frozen.

Love of money is the root of all evil, and some times the branches,twigs and leaves to.

Figured out how to squeeze 28 hours out of a 24 hour day.

Listened to and loved opera for the first time-hell, I don't even know what they're saying half the time, but it moves me.

Met my all time favorite number one band since I was 16 years old-THE OZARK MOUNTAIN DAREDEVILS...oh my! I could not contain my joy, no sireee I did not-whooped and hollered most magnificently. And met some wonderful fellow whoopers and hollerers too.

Pondered the meaning of life, every day. I know all I need to know for now, and that adds up to a thimble full. Much more to learn, or forget...

Had a dear lady shine her light on me, and BAM- I was illuminated, everything I perceived to be invisible(including myself)took shape, and glowed!

Pissin' and moanin', bitchin' and groanin' is like sitting in a rocking chair expecting to take a trip...you ain't going no where.

And now...this is where David Letterman should step in-The number one permanent impression left on me by the year 2007: (drum roll please....)

Life can be lonely and life can be sweet, you can pick alot of roses but the thorns will make you bleed, you must roll with the change, and grow with all the strife...just do what you have to in this game we call life.
And that's love.

Forever true...take care-



***the rainbow pic on previous post is one of miss lil's-she is a perceptive little artist in residence here, i often borrow her images for this spot.***