I don't think it matters so much if the cup is half empty or half full. It matters more what's in the cup.
I've had a year of roses and they are still blooming in December.
Saturday, December 04, 2010
Friday, July 23, 2010
WHERE ANGELS PLAY
The room so neat
It's almost bare
Bookcase, a shelf
A desk and chair
An office where
The sick will meet
With therapist
A woman sweet
To tell their tales
Of pain and woe
Misunderstood
By friend and foe
She smiles and nods
Sometimes she sighs
At moments tears
Are in her eyes
She feels the pain
And eases stress
So patients can
Receive some rest
An interlude
Of peace occurs
A question asked
A memory stirs
An insight comes
The pain departs
And then with joy
Within their hearts
Both laugh
As angels come to play
It's almost bare
Bookcase, a shelf
A desk and chair
An office where
The sick will meet
With therapist
A woman sweet
To tell their tales
Of pain and woe
Misunderstood
By friend and foe
She smiles and nods
Sometimes she sighs
At moments tears
Are in her eyes
She feels the pain
And eases stress
So patients can
Receive some rest
An interlude
Of peace occurs
A question asked
A memory stirs
An insight comes
The pain departs
And then with joy
Within their hearts
Both laugh
As angels come to play
(c) Beth NoLastName
Sunday, October 18, 2009
AFTER THE STORM
I want to run to the nearest clock and stop the minutes from passing. Slow down! Slow down! That's my life you are ticking away!
Then I laugh, assured if the time passes swiftly, I will simply be given extra years so I can still do all I want to do. I remind myself there is no hurry for anything. Everything is right on time.
Just a few weeks ago I was experiencing pain. The situation didn't change, but I did, so there is no pain any longer. There is peace and joy in it's place. The same people who would tell me to stop hitting my hand with a hammer if I cried out that it hurt, expect me to stand still as they create pain for me. I apply the same logic as I would with the hammer. I cease doing as I was doing. I allow that hammers are useful when applied rightly, and the people who are hurtful to me may do just fine relating to others. I set myself free and continuing on my pain free way. It works just fine each time I apply the lesson learned.
Was I sad? Of course I was sad! People are humans, not hammers. I care and I grieve deeply. But grieving does not last forever, or in my case, for long. My conscience is clear, so I don't need to go through the "What if I had done this?" or "I shouldn't have done that." I just feel the sorrow that someone and I can no longer be close.
Life is full of someones. Spending a great deal of time mourning the loss of relating to just one, makes no sense to me. While life doesn't always make sense to me, I do like to make sense to myself. There are no vacuums. When something is removed, something else takes up the space it leaves behind. I don't rush to fill spaces. There are times I enjoy having more moments to myself, unfettered by the need to relate to another.
I always liked the song WHEN YOU CAN'T BE WITH THE ONE YOU LOVE, LOVE THE ONE YOU'RE WITH. Spending time alone is a most rewarding experience.
Then I laugh, assured if the time passes swiftly, I will simply be given extra years so I can still do all I want to do. I remind myself there is no hurry for anything. Everything is right on time.
Just a few weeks ago I was experiencing pain. The situation didn't change, but I did, so there is no pain any longer. There is peace and joy in it's place. The same people who would tell me to stop hitting my hand with a hammer if I cried out that it hurt, expect me to stand still as they create pain for me. I apply the same logic as I would with the hammer. I cease doing as I was doing. I allow that hammers are useful when applied rightly, and the people who are hurtful to me may do just fine relating to others. I set myself free and continuing on my pain free way. It works just fine each time I apply the lesson learned.
Was I sad? Of course I was sad! People are humans, not hammers. I care and I grieve deeply. But grieving does not last forever, or in my case, for long. My conscience is clear, so I don't need to go through the "What if I had done this?" or "I shouldn't have done that." I just feel the sorrow that someone and I can no longer be close.
Life is full of someones. Spending a great deal of time mourning the loss of relating to just one, makes no sense to me. While life doesn't always make sense to me, I do like to make sense to myself. There are no vacuums. When something is removed, something else takes up the space it leaves behind. I don't rush to fill spaces. There are times I enjoy having more moments to myself, unfettered by the need to relate to another.
I always liked the song WHEN YOU CAN'T BE WITH THE ONE YOU LOVE, LOVE THE ONE YOU'RE WITH. Spending time alone is a most rewarding experience.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
COMMITTED TO LOVING
For over a week I went through a lot of stress, which stretched my emotions to the breaking point, but only enough for me to shed tears, not enough to lose any sanity, or even any sleep. Stress, as it will do, caused me to change. Change is always welcome.
This week I was rejected for having changed. I was laughed at...ridiculed. Since the person choosing to do that was my favorite person I went into an emotion whirlwind, shaken to my core.
I have survived. I have bid goodbye to that person. I accepted the pain and it didn't kill me. I reeled from it for a bit, and it altered my sense of reality and self. But I am a better person as a result. Given the choice to lower the esteem in which I hold someone else, or lowering my self esteem, the other party loses every time. I live the opposite of the way I was raised to live. Pride and fear can take a flying leap.
I would love to say this has never happened before, but that is not true. I have cared for many people and held them in high regard, only to lose respect for them as they treated me as less than worthy of respect. I view respect as a healthy fear of loss. Once someone treats me poorly and then laughs at me, I lose any fear of loss I have. I would rather be away from that person. I say goodbye.
Healthy people laugh with one another, not at one another. They talk to one another, not at one another. Once I am treated as an inanimate object and told to negate my own emotions, I do whatever needs to be done to get free of that relationship. There are no exceptions.
Abuse comes in many forms. I choose not to enable it.
This week I was rejected for having changed. I was laughed at...ridiculed. Since the person choosing to do that was my favorite person I went into an emotion whirlwind, shaken to my core.
I have survived. I have bid goodbye to that person. I accepted the pain and it didn't kill me. I reeled from it for a bit, and it altered my sense of reality and self. But I am a better person as a result. Given the choice to lower the esteem in which I hold someone else, or lowering my self esteem, the other party loses every time. I live the opposite of the way I was raised to live. Pride and fear can take a flying leap.
I would love to say this has never happened before, but that is not true. I have cared for many people and held them in high regard, only to lose respect for them as they treated me as less than worthy of respect. I view respect as a healthy fear of loss. Once someone treats me poorly and then laughs at me, I lose any fear of loss I have. I would rather be away from that person. I say goodbye.
Healthy people laugh with one another, not at one another. They talk to one another, not at one another. Once I am treated as an inanimate object and told to negate my own emotions, I do whatever needs to be done to get free of that relationship. There are no exceptions.
Abuse comes in many forms. I choose not to enable it.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
BREAK TIME
I'm stuck.
That happens sometimes. It's as if the wheel of life has stopped and the gears simply aren't meshing and turning at the moment. It's akin to being perched at the top of a Ferris wheel, waiting for the ride to begin again. While I am here, I take the time to look around me and settle back to review my day, and if stuck long enough, my life.
In recent months, I have begun a number of things, a book, a craft/sewing project/ learning to play a keyboard, but I have not continued on. There was a time years ago when I wasn't able to finish things that interested me, as if I didn't deserve such things...but I got past that so long ago that I have accomplished a great deal more than I ever thought I would.
But right now I am stuck.
I've gone through so many changes lately, I sometimes feel like a character in The Invasion of the Body Snatchers. I love the result of all of the changes, and have no regret at all. But I am stuck!
Making decisions and following through has cleared confusion out of my life often. I would like to go forward and follow my creative urges. Instead I keep coming across blocks, so I spend time purging things that are in my way, rather than creating new things. I can be grateful the blocks that come up now are things outside of me, and not created from any lack of esteem. It simply feels odd to be changing what I do and who I relate to at such a rapid rate.
As I sit here writing, a light goes off. I have grown. I have outgrown situations and even people that were once very helpful to me. The same things that helped the wheel to turn are now blocking it from turning! Amazing.
Perhaps I am stuck for a good reason. In a life centered in love, there are times we need to slow our pace a little to allow room for those we love to either part with us, or decide to come along as we continue in our growth. To honor the proess, we need to pause and reflect on what has come before, to be able to release it. The wheel only turns in one direction. There is no reverse.
That happens sometimes. It's as if the wheel of life has stopped and the gears simply aren't meshing and turning at the moment. It's akin to being perched at the top of a Ferris wheel, waiting for the ride to begin again. While I am here, I take the time to look around me and settle back to review my day, and if stuck long enough, my life.
In recent months, I have begun a number of things, a book, a craft/sewing project/ learning to play a keyboard, but I have not continued on. There was a time years ago when I wasn't able to finish things that interested me, as if I didn't deserve such things...but I got past that so long ago that I have accomplished a great deal more than I ever thought I would.
But right now I am stuck.
I've gone through so many changes lately, I sometimes feel like a character in The Invasion of the Body Snatchers. I love the result of all of the changes, and have no regret at all. But I am stuck!
Making decisions and following through has cleared confusion out of my life often. I would like to go forward and follow my creative urges. Instead I keep coming across blocks, so I spend time purging things that are in my way, rather than creating new things. I can be grateful the blocks that come up now are things outside of me, and not created from any lack of esteem. It simply feels odd to be changing what I do and who I relate to at such a rapid rate.
As I sit here writing, a light goes off. I have grown. I have outgrown situations and even people that were once very helpful to me. The same things that helped the wheel to turn are now blocking it from turning! Amazing.
Perhaps I am stuck for a good reason. In a life centered in love, there are times we need to slow our pace a little to allow room for those we love to either part with us, or decide to come along as we continue in our growth. To honor the proess, we need to pause and reflect on what has come before, to be able to release it. The wheel only turns in one direction. There is no reverse.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
RIGHT ON TIME
I'm sitting here listening to lastfm.com...Paul Simon-Under African Skies. Earphones are a most wonderful invention. My eyes tell me I am sitting at a table on the second floor of the Trenton Public Library, but my mind laughs and my foot moves in time to the music. Senses are a wonder thing. I can transport myself beyond my environment with sounds, that seem to be inside my head. Usually when surrounded by people I like to remain open and receptive, but here in an urban library where I want to read and write the ear plugs and music are a coping mechanism.
Ahh! Now it's Harry Chapin and Mail Order Annie. I'm playing catch up! Let me explain.
In the course of my life, I did not watch TV as others did. I rarely ever went to a concert or a play. By the time I was 26, I was widowed. My life did not seem to go the same way as my peers, but it was my life, so I made decisions as to what I wanted to experience and what I didn't want to experience. I decided by the time I reached thirty that I had no desire to watch television when I could read a book and learn something instead. For fifteen years I read non-fiction. I kept extensive journals. I explored my inner world. I found my gifts and developed them into talents. I worked at life.
I reasoned then there would be plenty of time left to play catch up when I grew old, thinking then that I would be old when I reached my sixties. Well, I reached my sixties and I wasn't old, so I just kept going, but a few months ago I rethought my plan. If I wait until I FEEL old, I may not want to play catch up!
So here I am...retired and loving it. I've always loved music, and sang often as I worked, but the only songs I knew were from my early childhood...songs of my parent's generation. That came in handy when I worked nursing the elderly, but it did nothing to give me common ground with my peers. My peers now ARE the elders in this country, and I do recognize the tunes, but I don't know who sang what. I didn't learn the names of the groups or recording artists. I didn't keep up with the times.
All of that strikes me funny. I look around at the state the world is in, and realize I didn't miss much of any consequence...other than some fine entertainment. Well, I am now being entertained.
It's my turn.
Ahh! Now it's Harry Chapin and Mail Order Annie. I'm playing catch up! Let me explain.
In the course of my life, I did not watch TV as others did. I rarely ever went to a concert or a play. By the time I was 26, I was widowed. My life did not seem to go the same way as my peers, but it was my life, so I made decisions as to what I wanted to experience and what I didn't want to experience. I decided by the time I reached thirty that I had no desire to watch television when I could read a book and learn something instead. For fifteen years I read non-fiction. I kept extensive journals. I explored my inner world. I found my gifts and developed them into talents. I worked at life.
I reasoned then there would be plenty of time left to play catch up when I grew old, thinking then that I would be old when I reached my sixties. Well, I reached my sixties and I wasn't old, so I just kept going, but a few months ago I rethought my plan. If I wait until I FEEL old, I may not want to play catch up!
So here I am...retired and loving it. I've always loved music, and sang often as I worked, but the only songs I knew were from my early childhood...songs of my parent's generation. That came in handy when I worked nursing the elderly, but it did nothing to give me common ground with my peers. My peers now ARE the elders in this country, and I do recognize the tunes, but I don't know who sang what. I didn't learn the names of the groups or recording artists. I didn't keep up with the times.
All of that strikes me funny. I look around at the state the world is in, and realize I didn't miss much of any consequence...other than some fine entertainment. Well, I am now being entertained.
It's my turn.
Sunday, August 09, 2009
A RECYCLED LIFE
I have a friend in Florida who rescues Dalmatians. I thought of her yesterday when I bought Buford Bear and his buddy Rufus Mutt for $.50 apiece at a yard sale. The price was right and I know they won't eat much. I questioned my sanity for a bit, but as I set them on my bed, I laughed. They looked very much at home. I just know the more I look at the fellas, the more I am going to want to write a children's story about them. Others have a muse. I have amuse. (It doesn't take much to amuse me!)
Today I read about composting and was surprised to find there are many things that can go into a compost heap that I wouldn't have considered. The fact that I live in one room on the third floor of a YWCA residence completely surrounded by cement and asphalt has nothing to do with that!
Stuffed animals and composting? Here I sit, after nearly six years of living in one room in a downtown area, day dreaming once again about having a worm bed. Should I ever wind up senile in a nursing home, the aides are going to be walking around scratching their heads as I chatter on. I won't be asking for any dolls, but I might ask for Rufus and if anyone has seen my earthworms.
This month I quit Twitter and facebook. I had the experience, enjoyed it for what it was, and left while the party was still going. I'm thinking of creating my own site and calling it Twitbook. You know? A simple site for people like me who get lost on the way to the bathroom. I did find something that suits me to a T, though. Its called Stumble Upon. I explored it today and had a great deal of fun doing some supervised surfing. It's just the right tool to allow me to follow my interests, yet not get lost along the way. It's akin to having an implanted homing device.
I'm looking forward to tomorrow. I have received consent from the state library to use a table there for cutting out patterns. The space is attractive, quiet, well lit...everything I could ask for from a crafting space. Tomorrow, rather than carrying my laptop in a bag over my shoulder, I will have a bag with material, patterns, tissue paper and Fiskars (scissors). I'll lay out patterns on tissue paper to make duplicate sizes, and then lay out some patterns on material. The material I will be using is from used jeans. I found some at a yard sale for $2.00 a pair. They were exactly what I wanted. I intend to make lined denim patchwork vests. Each one will be different than the last...one of a kind creations. A woman who runs a consignment store in New Hope, PA said she would be interested in seeing them.
It's been over ten years since I sat down to create with my sewing machine. Ten years! When I arrived in New Jersey nine years ago with my computer and my sewing machine, I had a dream. Making my own dreams come true has been a life-long habit. I learned that plans don't work, although I make them to have a sense of direction. Dreams, though, come true. Dreams don't have a time limit as most plans do. I bought a new machine five years ago. It's still new. I have only used it a few times. Now it will earn it's price back for me, just as every sewing machine I ever owned did in the past.
Because I live where I do, I am considered legally homeless. I am now the most comfy cozy homeless woman I have ever known. I tour the world with my computer, meeting people from all over, and now I will return to sewing and crafting, just as when I owned my house. It should go well. I have no stress of mortgage payments, house taxes, fuel, or utilitiy bills. I have nothing better to do than to create some patterns and designs.
I am a child at play. Rufus and Buford understand that.
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