This morning ~ before the chores, and before all the thinking and the doing – with an Indian summer sun on my face, a cup of tea, teen’s chatter in the kitchen, fresh strawberries, tomatoes and purple posies from the garden… I found myself once again remembering to appreciate the small moments and life’s simple blessings. And I just wanted to wish the same for you. ~ P
I’m one of those people who rarely watches TV. Not someone who says they rarely watch, I mean I rarely turn on the tube at all. Honestly, I’d rather be drawing, painting, reading, writing poetry, walking in the Alps, having tea with friends. But I do catch some news while doing dishes, and once a week might tune in for half an hour to some nifty thing on the history or biography channel, or something about aliens or Aztecs. Still, there are times when I need some plain old good entertainment just like anybody else, and watching a little tv seems like an easy ticket. That’s when I want to break something, because when on earth did it become so damn complicated? I think it might have been when we had to use more than one remote control – that was the beginning of the end.
Worst thing is when you can’t find the remotes (plural) because somebody didn’t put them back where they belong. If you’re lucky enough to find them (after much grumbling), you have to remember which one turns on which device and THEN, sometimes you have to switch servers or some such thing to get to the right stream ~ tv or apple tv, and then to Netflix or whatever thing you’ve been suckered into to watch movies you thought would be a bargain but aren’t because the good ones are only available if you pay extra…. which defeats the whole purpose. But I digress. Sort of.
Tonight I decided I’d finally start watching Downton Abbey. Recommended highly, and free on Netflix. I’ve resisted because I don’t have a lot of spare time to begin with and it sounds like something I’d get wrapped up in. But the time seemed right. So I get to the proper channel/server/device/whatever and it’s not accessing. Then I google the answer and finally find one. Happy day. Next I go to Netflix, and it’s not listed. Again, I google “why” and discover it’s no longer streaming through Netflix and will soon be paid only viewing through Amazon. (Amazon?) But, I learn, you can still get it on Hulu. So I go to my tv screen and punch up Hulu, but there’s only Hulu Plus, which I have the privilege of purchasing. I decline. Besides, I thought you could watch it on the “regular” Hulu thing for free. (I’m all about “for free” with this stuff. I know, silly me.) But apparently as of sometime in 2013 that’s no longer the case. So I spent my precious time going around in frustrating circles and what am I gonna do? Go read a book, which is what I was going to do in the first place. I am sorry not to get to see Downton Abbey, I’ll be honest. But it can wait.
But before I go ~ my rant isn’t quite over ~ I just want to add that I don’t expect things to be free in general. Air, water, hugs, yes. But we’re a society driven by commerce – we work, we get paid for our work. Companies and individuals offer a service, they get paid. Farmers put their produce by the side of the road and people pay for the veggies the farmer toiled over. But at what point does it get completely ridiculous? When you have to pay for a tv service, movie service, special channels – oh, but yea, you get 8500 channels that come with the deal that you’ll never, ever need – and then all these OTHER special networks come on offering amazing deals, which as we all know aren’t so amazing, and all of this in the name of choice. There’s too much choice ~ not to mention that most of it’s garbage, not worth watching. Although I guess a lot of people think they are worth watching, or maybe they wouldn’t be on. So maybe it’s just my overly discerning taste, my over-the-top sophistication, the royalty running through my veins from previous incarnations. Or maybe I just don’t have the “gotta watch the screen” gene. But when I do want to imbibe in some mental diversion via the tele, it’s often more aggravating than not.
Gone are the days of simply turning on the tv. “On”. Done. No hundreds of steps to get there. No wheeling and dealing. Commercial breaks didn’t bombard you with every pharmaceutical offering in the universe or the push to put men on Viagra. (Don’t get me started on that…) You flipped through a tv guide that didn’t require a doctorate in research in order to navigate. There wasn’t round-the-clock programming to keep people in a continual state of distraction. There wasn’t a tv in every restaurant, bar, doctor’s office, grocery check out line… It’s really beginning to feel like science fiction come to life with these talking boxes everywhere keeping everyone “entertained” and god knows what kind of subliminal messaging coming through. Yes, I do think like that sometimes. It’s an utterly fantastic medium for mind-control, if, by chance, that were of any interest to anyone in positions of power. Control the masses sort of thing. (This is the point where my daughter rolls her eyes – MOM, I can think for myself, it’s not evil…) Which is all really unfortunate, because television also has the potential to be really worthwhile, educational, enlightening, etc. But again, I digress.
The point was – well I’m not sure except I started out wanting to watch a quality show, had a whole bunch of hassles in between and never got to see it. Instead I got riled by the hoops one has to jump through, and the money that passes hands for the luxury of wanting to throw the thing out the window. Kind of like booking air travel… oh but that’s a whole ‘nother rant, for another time.
Guess I’ll just have another cup of tea, because tea fixes everything, and go get marvelously lost in the pages of a good book.
That’s what I’m gonna do ….. see you in a week or so!
So I had a couple of nasty days. The kind “sent to try us”. The Murphy’s Law kind. Fender-benders and lost phones, roads closed, fistfuls of money out the door, that sort of thing. Aggravation.
I kept my cool, though, because I’m like that ~ rational, patient, pretty much calm & controlled when crisis flares ~ but I will admit that privately curses sprang from my lips and a few items were slammed on the ground. Like a rubber band wound too tight. But of course, the rubber band springs back, and so did I. Not much to do at that point but take care of what needs taking care of.
Then the rain came. Buckets of beautiful rain.
There’s nothing quite like a booming, early morning thunderstorm to clear the air. I like to imagine the rain cleansing as the wind whisks our troubles up, thunder rolls them away and lightning strikes out doubt and confusion. As if, for a moment in time, we’re smack dab in the middle of a cosmic realignment.
And then, slowly, the storm eases off, and we’re placed back in our place of reality, somehow revitalized, a little bit liberated. The air somehow new. Angst washed clean. And I’m reminded that “shit happens”, that we do the best we can, that energies can shift quickly and without warning, and that the universe is one great big mysteriously magnificent thing in which we get to play and work and wonder and worry and pray and laugh and learn and love and that making sense of it all just might not be our job.
I’ve always been an optimist. Still, when I was much younger, concepts like “positive thinking” seemed wise but not very attainable. I hadn’t learned how to access the secret code. And of course, when you’re young and the world is exciting and challenging, stretching every fiber of your being in all kinds of dramatic ways, advice like “look on the bright side” feels insignificant, even powerless, alongside your intense concerns.
The thing is, after a good share of life’s trials and tribulations, I’ve learned a few things. (Funny how that inevitably happens.) One of them is that “thinking positively” really is much simpler and much more effective than I’d imagined way back when. It’s a choice. It’s a decision. It changes everything. Our thoughts then become an attitude and can make life a very different, and better, place.
And, for me, it’s all inescapably tied up with love… a word restricted to a fault by some and used in meaningless excess by others. But of course, it’s not just a word, it’s a state of being that places life in another orbit, a very different, and better orbit. Love is a feeling, an action, and an energy that lives in the root of our being, able to wind around our means and reach out to the tippy ends and edges and way beyond. Love is everything worth anything.
At some point I latched on and haven’t let go of the notion that love transcends all else. When life pulls me down, when it throws me against the wall, I can punch back with love. I know it’s there, love’s essence ~ this great well of God-like, Great-Spirit, Divinely Intelligent, Universal Magnificence – that I can tap into for sustenance. I believe we all can.
It’s an amazing thing, love. There can never be too much.
And so a few lines flowed out the other night (which prompted this whole little essay). Thought I’d share them. (With love.)
Becoming Love
Love someone,
Let yourself be loved,
Do all things with love ~
Work with love,
Sing with love,
Speak with love,
Share with love.
Let love rise like the sun
in your heart
And settle behind your eyes
as the sun goes down.
Drink love into your water,
Pray love into your woes,
Breathe love into your very bones ~
Become love.
Just Love.
– Patricia Saxton
“Breaking Free” / colored pencil / © Patricia Saxton
So the dog days of summer are upon us. Heat waves. Air Conditioners. Katydids. And it turns out, a little streak of not feeling my best. It happens.
You just don’t get this far in life without some scars, lessons learned, boatloads of trials and tribulations, patterns that repeat, ups and downs, enlightenments and unwelcome doubts. I tend to work through them privately and quietly and come out the other side just fine ~ better, wiser, stronger ~ but just like you or you or you, when in the throes of question or angst, it’s no picnic.
It doesn’t much matter what the personal throes are about – for one, everybody has a story, and for two, this isn’t the place, it’s not that kind of blog. But on a more universal note, what does matter in just about every instance is how we handle it. How we react to, respond to, and “deal with” whatever we experience.
In my case, feeling out of balance is probably an understatement, but I’ll call it that for some context. And, having had about enough of that, I had the presence of mind to remember that when I meditate in the morning, things flow more smoothly, and I can also get some wonderful messages. As simplistic as that may sound, just that thought – set to action – can make a difference (as many of you already know). And I wanted to share with you part of what came from that meditation.
I share this with you because it might, just might, speak to you on some level in a positive way, and if so, the sharing is worthwhile. If not, no harm done. And it’s back to the dog days, feeling lighter. : )
♦
There is a myth,
A myth that life is hard
That you must struggle
That you must be dragged about
And twist and turn
And hurt and heal
And clamour out and rise above
With battle scars as medals.
But there is another way,
A better way ~
And you may wonder
How and why and when,
And what do those who’ve found this know
That you don’t know.
It is that love breeds love and joy breeds joy and light breeds light ~ those are the way. Those are what you aim for, those are what you fill your thoughts with, those are what you place gently, firmly into your heart, sprinkle out into the world around you ~ and it is the very same that you allow, accept, and receive into your own precious soul. However small or large, love is love is love.
Go and sing this song in your heart.
For you are love.
~ Patricia Saxton
♦
In May 1776, Betsy Ross sewed the first American flag. A year later in 1777, the Continental Congress passed the first Flag Act, establishing an official flag for the new nation:
“Resolved, That the flag of the United States be made of thirteen stripes, alternate red and white; that the union be thirteen stars, white in a blue field, representing a new Constellation.”
However, between 1777 and 1960, Congress passed several acts that changed the shape, design and arrangement of the flag and allowed for additional stars and stripes to reflect each new state. This broad span of time without specific guidelines resulted in many design interpretations – which in a sense also reflects the deeply rooted sense of freedom so cherished by Americans. The expressions were rich and proud, eventually evolving into the flag we pledge allegiance to today.
Carrying that theme of evolvement forward, in 1986 I discovered a beautiful book by Kit Hinrichs, called “Stars and Stripes” – a compilation of exceptionally creative American Flag images created by some of the finest graphic artists of modern time. I found it absolutely delightful, and a great tribute to the creativity and talent that abounds amongst us – and the creative freedom we’re able to enjoy in this great land of the free and home of the brave.
Below are just 13 samples of the many ingenious designs from that book honoring our American flag. Enjoy, and Happy Birthday USA!
all images copyright of creator
I think I’ve got my mojo back.
Of course, in all honesty, I hadn’t realized it’d been missing. But you can get into a certain life rhythm that over time, and without your awareness or your consent, flattens certain elements of yourself. Some of it seems to happen out of necessity ~ for example, I’d be dappled in oil paint in a room full of canvasses if I weren’t so concerned about keeping a roof overhead; I’d be writing more poetry and making more music and probably doing a lot more for others. And I’m all too aware how much I miss those things – they’re very much part of my fabric, my DNA I guess, and my spirit thirsts for them. And they’ve had to be patient in recent years; they’ve had to “flatten” while my focus needs to be elsewhere.
But that’s not mojo. That’s about time constraints and practicality. Mojo (good mojo) usually describes a someone being “in their groove”, everything going their way. And that’s true. But to me it’s also an energy that fuels your core, that pushes you to stand up straighter and speak with more conviction and act with more confidence and be more decisive and set more boundaries and to say, “this is my space, my energy, and I will use it well and protect it and respect it and nobody’s gonna mess with it.” It’s an essence, that feeds all your other actions and behaviors. It means you feel in sync with the strength of your spirit.
So how did I get mine back? I’d been sensing a shift in my world. Perhaps even looking for something to kick that shift into gear. Well, I may have found it, literally, by kicking.
Last week I took my first ever kick-boxing class. Aside from the awesome workout (which I, and my very different set of swimmer muscles survived, thank you very much), as a testament to the many benefits of hard-core exercise, I felt something more than muscles awakening. I felt my inner warrior rising up from what I can only describe as a foggy nap.
This warrior has been there all along, sometimes full-on, sometimes at rest, but I recognized her almost instantly. “Hello! There you are ~ welcome back!”
I’ve always liked this warrior side. She’s staunch in her beliefs about right and wrong, positives and negatives, and fiercely adamant about being true to your best self and letting your light shine. She seems even taller than usual and doesn’t tolerate bullshit. (pardon my French). She’s got your back.
And the lesson for me was simple ~ Sometimes you have to change stride and shake things up to feel your mojo kick in and your inner spiritual warrior step out.
Kick-boxing class, I’ll be back…!
I had no intention of going downstairs that night. Having felt relief that the furnace had been fixed and the weather turned pleasant, I was enjoying some well-deserved time outdoors.
But the universe moves in mysterious ways.
If I hadn’t noticed that the light was out in the hallway; if I hadn’t been compelled to go downstairs to get a replacement bulb; if I’d waited even half an hour longer; God forbid, if I’d waited til the next morning…. the damage from a runaway hose on the water heater would have been much more than a huge ordeal, it could have been an even bigger disaster, ruining paintings, electrical equipment, and I hate to think what else.
That’s not to say that the removal of carpeting and walls and about 5 hours of steadily running water hasn’t been a problem. But somewhere in this, perhaps some blessings too.
Maybe it was just “life”, just another trial and tribulation, cause for cursing and a whole lot of aggravation and time spent on something I didn’t have time for – or maybe it was something that averted a potentially worse event (I’ll never know, and that’s okay!) – but for whatever reason, the water flowed like a river where a river doesn’t belong, and made me take note.
Water symbolizes fluidity. When restricted, it doesn’t flow ~ and then when released, like a broken dam it bursts and gushes and overflows, spoiling everything in its path. There’s a lesson there, and it wasn’t lost on me.
And hey, over the past week I’ve learned that PSE&G backed up their words with action – they were there for me. I learned something about pressure valves, met some of the local firemen, and through them, a great team of restoration and damage repair guys. The carpet I’ve been wanting to change just found an instant answer and all this took my mind off the cicada onslaught.
Of course, between the cicada’s incessant whir outside and the drying fans inside, it’s a surround-sound experience I could do without. And the flooded area is a long way from being put back together. But it’s sorting itself out ~ and because it could have been worse, I probably have to say I’ve never been so happy to feel the urge to change a lightbulb. Who knew it could prevent calamity?
I love spring! It may sound corny, but I’m over-the-moon when everything turns green, when everything’s new and fresh and full of wonder. I love going barefoot. I love hearing the birds singing their little hearts out, the squirrels skittering, the crickets cricket-ing. I love getting a little dirt under my nails. And when flowers bloom ~ flowers are, after all, the superstars of springtime ~ my cares feel lighter, my heart and all the world a little brighter.
