Next………..

Skimming across the surface
The smooth flat stone finally sinks to the bottom~
But before it lands
It is caught by the undercurrent
And tossed and turned and rolled and lightly cuffed
Until it comes to its resting place
Half immersed in the sand, half exposed
Tranquil, serene, waiting for the next wave…..

 

 

Published in: on April 19, 2014 at 5:58 pm  Comments (7)  
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This Night Stands On Its Own Merits

heart with smile

heart with smile (Photo credit: Pan.101)

“You cannot judge the prudence of an action by the results.” ~ Henrietta Ann Klauser, Put Your Heart on Paper

After Klauser makes that statement she follows it with this truth: “What a hard truth and profound statement. It will give you great power when you are at peace with that.”

Her book, “Put Your Heart on Paper”, is one of my favorites, but I must say that this statement particularly resonates with me. I hate to do something and not realize the results. I want to know that my effort was not in vain. That the work or time I have put into something counts. But even if we cannot see the results, or the results are different than we anticipated, Klauser want us to know that the effort was worth it.

She tells of an insight she received from a friend when she told him the story of staying up one night when she was at university to comfort a friend in crisis even though she should have been studying. She told him that if she still passed the test than the time spent with her friend was worth it. The insight she received was this: “No, whether you pass or not, this night stands on its own merits.”

Those simple words, “…this night stands on its own merits” is one we can learn from. The action is what was important, not the outcome or what we would consider the reward. The reward in this case is that the friend was helped through her crisis and that was the important thing—the thing that had merit

I find myself always looking to do the thing that is worthwhile—the thing where the outcome will be worth the effort put into it. Now I am thinking that the process may be the key and that the time and effort put into something is worth merit, not just the product.

I seem to be quite serious of late, sort of giving myself some “self-talks”. Will let you know if they are successful, but I guess I should keep in mind that the process of working things out is just as important as the end result.

(I am hedging my bets and buying a lottery ticket too though).

Bliss is the journey as much as the destination. What do you think?

 

A Profundity

path path path

(Photo credit: hockadilly)

We need a path

before we can make

the journey……

Published in: on November 19, 2012 at 4:39 pm  Comments (26)  
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Then and Now

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As many of you know, I occasionally include my newspaper column on this blog. It is the 14th anniversary of my column “On The Homefront….and Beyond”, so I thought I would share it with you. It appears on p. 5 of the Kingsville Reporter:

I have been writing this column for fourteen years now. It started out as a joint venture with another writer friend of mine, Liz Moore, but after about ten months she moved to London and this space became mine. A lot has changed in 14 years. I was a young (young being relative here) mother then, with a 7 year old and 12 year old. The topics I wrote about then were a bit different than the topics I write about now.

Then, I wrote about sending my kids back to the first day of class in September, and performing a ritual “happy dance” until my oldest asked me not to do it anymore because it made him feel like I wanted to get rid of him. I understood, and I stopped doing the happy dance. And I quit humming “It’s The Most Wonderful Time of Year” to boot. After a summer of wracking my brain to find things to do to keep my kids from being perpetually bored, I was probably ready to have them back at school, but I did not want them to know that. And if I were honest, they were pretty good at keeping themselves busy and happy.

Today, my kids are in their twenties. One is away at college and is a computer genius (which you have to realize that to me, anyone who knows the ins and outs of a computer is a computer genius— still, I think he is brilliant—but I am his mother after all.) I call my eldest son a Rock God, which he is not really comfortable with, but he is getting used to me referring to him as such. And he does play a mean lead guitar. His band is called Rodents & Rebels. Not a name a mother would choose, but hey, they like it.

Then, I would write about our adventures in the soccer field, at the baseball diamond, and on the basketball court. Today, my kids talk about being “buff”, which I think means there is a six-pack in their future, whether it be the liquid kind, or the “arrangement of six bulges in the human abdomen” kind (this definition thanks to all-knowing, all-seeing Wikipedia).

Vacations back then took the form of camping trips, which was and is not a favourite past-time of mine. But in retrospect, with the nostalgia factor kicking in, camping really was a great family time—even if you had to sleep on the ground and walk half a block to a washroom where the showers were always cold. I remember waking up in the morning to coffee and eggs and bacon being cooked over an open fire in order to get me to “stay just one more day mom” and of course I would acquiesce.

English: Camping by Barriere Lake, Barriere, ,...

English: Camping by Barriere Lake, Barriere, , Canada. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Today, organized vacations take the guise of attending out-of-town weddings or celebrations together, and are not necessarily vacations, but as a mom, I will take any time together with my grown-up kids.

Fourteen years ago things were different. Fourteen years are admittedly a long time in a family’s life—we have all grown a little older—some us have to dye our hair now, some of us do not have as much hair as we did then, and some of us are not home all the time. Sometimes I would give my eye teeth to have that time back, but I also like things as they are now. We still have a long way to go on our journey, and I will continue to let you in on our lives as they change over time.

Dreams Do Come True

Name That Shakespeare Play!

Name That Shakespeare Play! (Photo credit: Tracy Lee)

Intro to Organizing -101

I have a sign that says “Dreams…do come true” casually propped up on a bookshelf in my library/office/dining room/really, really messy, messy room. Over the doorway of the same room is a quilted homespun sign with this message: “A clean house is the sign of a life misspent.” Suffice to say that I have not misspent my life, at least in the clean house category.

My decades old dream is to become organized. And the fact that I may live for another 40 years, it is a worth pursuing. (Mind you I will be really close to 100 years of age, but they are predicting that we will live longer these days.) I also would like to have a clean house, and finally take down the quilted sign which is brown with age, and curling at one corner in a most unattractive manner.

Let me introduce you to my office, which is one of the rooms in my house that needs to be organized (this is the understatement of all understatements.) It is where I write and meet deadlines for the weekly newspaper I work for, as well as articles for magazines and a variety of other venues (who am I kidding here, I write for whoever will pay me). I am also supposed to be the office manager for my husband’s contracting/kitchen remodelling business. I am not a really good office manager. I really dislike paperwork, which may sound odd for someone who writes, but paperwork and writing are diametrically opposed. I do some minor bookkeeping, which I do not altogether understand, but our accountant walks me through it. He speaks to me in short sentences and words I mostly understand. I have a decent education, but all the courses I took in Shakespeare do not help me with rudimentary math.

English: Wooden File Cabinet with drawer open....

English: Wooden File Cabinet with drawer open. Taken by me. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The whole song and dance about bookwork explains why this room is so messy, as my filing system is remarkable (I know this as my husband John remarks on it all the time). In a nutshell, I am afraid to file things away. I am an “out of sight, out of mind” kind of girl. I am an “outie” not an “innie” when it comes to filing, and I am not referring to any parts of my anatomy. There have been studies done that prove that some people can file things away and actually find them again, and others need everything out in a jumble, to sift through every month in order to keep their books, and every year to do their income tax returns. (I will tell you the Christmas cake story later to prove my point that I should not put things “away”).

My office consists of two longs desks (which are really flat doors that my husband framed) set on a number of filing cabinets. There is a lot of stuff in the filing cabinets, some of it well over twenty years old that I have been meaning to throw out or re-file. The desks form a kind of L-shape against two walls. Right now one desk shares my writing work files with John’s business files and financial files, plus piles of newspapers I still have to clip my column out of. ( I write a weekly column, which you can partake of in this blog–called  coincidentally– On The Homefront and Beyond.)

The other desk has a phone, a printer/copier, a dictionary the size of a small house, and more files and papers destined at some stage to be put away, plus a myriad of bills, and important papers that I must look at–someday for some reason.

In the middle of the room is our dining room table with my laptop, surrounded by (you guessed it) more papers and receipts, and right now Christmas cards and last night’s copy of the Agenda for the municipal Council meeting I attended and have to write up. My day book is laying there forlorn, almost forgotten, and a calculator sits at the ready for me to finish this month’s bookwork (as well as the last 12 months). There is a lace tablecloth on the table to remind me that this is a multi-tasking room and not just an office. There are occasions (though few and far between) when I actually clean off the table, and we eat glorious and festive meals gathered around it. I believe Thanksgiving was the last time in recent memory.

As this blog entry is getting a bit long, I will continue later, but I think you are getting the point–the success of the rest of my life really does depend on me getting organized. I have a number of books I will be calling on to point me down the right path, and will tell you more tomorrow (or the next day, remember I am just getting organized, I am nowhere close to reaching my goal yet.) Oh, in case you were wondering, that is a minus sign in front of organizing–this is not like Economics 101 or Psych 101–it is me learning how to be organized, not teaching. I am just taking you along on the journey.

Hope you stick with me–

Published in: on November 30, 2011 at 8:30 pm  Comments (2)  
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