Tag Archives: Family

Fearless

When the blank screen stares back at you poker-faced, Daily Prompt to the rescue…

Fearless.

I won’t say I am completely fearless or fearful. Although there was a time when I was so fearful to get out in the world I had to psyche myself up just to go into the grocery store.

I felt I would pass out or embarrassingly yell out random explicatives under the blinding fluorescent lighting and rows and rows of strangers and stacked food products.

When I was younger I was afraid to swim in murky water, be it lakes or oceans. All I could think of were the snakes and sharks and piranha that might be gliding by, waiting to pierce the flesh of my feet.

And I have never quite gotten over my fear of diving. The time in the Mediterranean sea when I lost my bikini top pretty much robbed me of ever going head first into water.

Flying was a real chore for a number of years. And public speaking? I’d rather slice my toe and pour hot sauce all over it.

So I guess you’d say I have a number of fears lurking underneath. Most I have either conquered or learned to deal with.

Two weeks ago I went to Busch Gardens, a zoo/theme park which boasts some of the most thrilling coasters in the country. I hadn’t been on one in years. Back in my teens and twenties I rode any state fair ride that rolled off the highway. As the years went by my equilibrium and necessity for survival kept me from enjoying them anymore.

With a little liquid encouragement and the desire to make memories impress my now thrill-seeking little boo, I went on some of the craziest rides ever. I screamed like a little girl being chased by swarms of wasps.

I loved it.

There’s one that rises 335 feet, rotates and dangles you facing the ground below, then drops. I rode that one twice.

I never want to live in fear. Fear is paralyzing. Fear disables meaningful life experiences and the rush that comes with it.

Of course we don’t want to be stupid. I wear my seatbelt. I floss. I look both ways before crossing the street.

But swimming in the ocean, flying to see a close relative, watching my almost 12-year-old look at me with happiness and pride– those are things I will not let fear steal from me.

What are your fears? Do you have some you have painstakingly overcome? I’d love to hear your story…

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/fearless/

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 Photo courtesy of YouTube.com

 

 

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Get the Balance Right

Is it possible to ever get the balance right? Things are off-kilter, ignored, put off, unattainable at the moment, time the ever opponent. My perfectionist personality does not help. Failure is no longer an option and neither is guilt or self-deprecation. It is what it is. And I’m sorry to those of you I have not connected with lately.

Eighteen hours a day working, sleeping, prepping for the two. Which leaves six for chores, errands, food prep, quality time with little Boo, exercise, meditation/prayer/gratitude, and personal hygiene/beauty. So what has fallen by the wayside? Writing. Creating. Connecting with friends and family. Shaving.

And I’m a horrible phone person. I rarely pick up the phone. I have been reprimanded about this at various times. I don’t love the phone. I can’t read the lips of the person speaking on the other line. Can’t see their body language. Hell sometimes can’t hear what they are saying. And because of the demands of life I am a multi-tasker (like so many of us these days). It is easier to have conversations via text with several people at the same time while doing the laundry, dishes, hitting the can. But yes I am fully aware that an uninterrupted phone conversation is important. And I am calling my mom as soon as I finish this.

I made time to catch the sunset on the beach twice this week. It had been too long. Today I am writing. Tomorrow I will catch up with an old friend.

When little Boo was a baby I knew that phase of our lives would be fleeting. There were days that were long and filled with crying and poop, but in between those moments were the giggles and cuddles and chubby legs learning to walk. Now that baby is almost as tall as me and it happened in the swish of a horse’s tail.

I am forever grateful that I am able to see him daily as I assistant teach in his classroom. This will be a year looked upon with great pride and nostalgia when he is out of my daily sights and starting his own career and path in life.

So when I think about all the things I can’t seem to find the time or energy to accomplish I need to cut myself a freaking break. We do what we can.

I was alone when I viewed this spectacular sunset. Now let’s watch it together : )

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Taken with iPhone 5, west coast FL, no editing.

 

 

 

 

 

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Spinning Dresses and New Year Kisses

I rang in the New Year just the way I’d hoped. Surrounded by good friends, good people, and the absence of lemon drop shots.

It’s been a good time off from work. The whole holiday break has been fulfilling (except for the head lice situation nightmare which I may write about when I can just laugh about it).

I have spent quality time with people I have managed to neglect during my nine-hour workdays and various other mom, household, and health/hygiene duties.

I hope the neglected understand.

For this holiday I will remember–

The spicy, fresh smell of a health food store while walking side by side down the aisles with my mom on a mother-daughter date.

Reading incredibly sick yet nostalgic nursery rhymes to my nephew while his little hand rested on mine. “He put her in a pumpkin shell and there he kept her very well…

The relaxing and grateful feeling of my sister-in-law, and then my mother, and then my new dear friend combing through my hair to remove nits.

Witnessing my Little Boo exercise good table manners (placing his phone down without being asked and engaging in friendly dinner conversation); quiet chunks of time playing board games with him; a spontaneous Face Time call while he explored his aunt and uncle’s lakeside backyard in the cold Tennessee wind.

The quirky and adorable story my neighbor recited to me in her refined Liverpool accent as we sipped Australian wine.

My cousin’s hearty laugh and the resonation of it throughout the years and over state lines.

And yet there is much more. I am truly blessed.

I’d like to be, and be able to be less neglectful in the coming year.

I rang in the New Year with dear friends. And ended up dancing with  a stranger. A little girl with wavy locks the color of caramel and a dress that sparkled like fireworks as she spun and spun like a top that had no way of stopping.

And a strong little bear hug and kiss on the cheek from her before she scooted off into the balmy night.

Happy New Year, everyone.

Girl-Twirling

Photo courtesy of veganfashionblog.com

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Gratitude Unbounded

 

A swollen heart
full of everything
the universe has brought

I give gratitude by the lake
by the sea
under the full harvest moon

I give gratitude unbounded
today

Immense thankfulness for

The late autumn wind
tickling worn tree branches
Glistening sunlight
highlighting the hibiscus

Ocean swells
and the pleasure it brings
to my ears
as does the morning birdsong
A delightful symphony

The comfort of a safe haven
The calm serenity of inner peace
Hands for work and art
Movement to travel and see

Forgiveness
Health
Self love and acceptance
Love within and without
Courage
Happiness
A good steward for the universe

And you

I am thankful for you
each one of you

In the way you have touched
my soul
In the way you were brought
into this world
In the way I will carry you
in my heart
forever.

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Filed under Sunday Night Sonnet

The Gazebo

A moment in time
flashes before
my eyes
or rather the recesses of my brain
where memories, scents, and images
not to mention a quiet bubbling rush
of emotion
collide

In this moment there is a gazebo

We stopped to take a photograph
on a Smoky Mountain venture
I can smell the caramel apples
and feel the familiarity of
the city

We held our baby boy so close
chubby legs and dimples on his flushed
round cheeks
The three of us
in a fairy tale reality
protected by wooden spindles
and fall flower boxes

I’m afraid to try and look
for the photograph
Afraid it won’t be there
Afraid the rush of emotion
may evolve into a roaring river

So in this space in my cortex
the sweet memory will remain
And it will linger on days like this
when I need to remember from where
we came

And the journey since
like those elusive vaporous
layered
peaks and valleys

In stillness will always
be just there
like the eternal structure
of time
like the sanctuary
of the gazebo.

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Fly Little Bird

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There are weeds in the garden
yet hair on the office chair
Dust on the piano
but not on the computer keyboard

Some things ignored, some completed
I hear your laughter here in the silence
and I am grateful
you are back nestled under my wing

I set you up to fly away
And when that day comes
know you will always have
a nest here to come back to

And when your heart broken in pieces
you will find solace without
violence
Carry self-acceptance
and love of self

Fly out into the world
without bitterness
or desperation

And color the palate of the sky
with your broken, beautiful wings

There are weeds in the garden
there will always be
Fly little bird
but not too far away
from me

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Back to the Mall

My parents were over the other night for dinner. After we chomped on tacos with black beans, chunky salsa, and jalapeños we began reminiscing. I’m not sure how the conversation started but we cruised back in time to 1980-something. To Antioch Tennessee where I grew up. We went back to The Mall.

The crappy thing is the mall where I spent so much time from ages 6-26 is no longer there. I mean the building itself is still there but the stores, the people, the smell of corn dogs and waffle cones is just a lingering memory. I think they are turning it into a college annex now. I’d like to go back and see what it looks like. Or perhaps I should just stay away and remember it as it was.

In the beginning the mall included a 3 screen movie theatre. Me and my brother tried to sneak into our first movie theatre rated R movie. But the ticket boy caught us crawling on our hands and knees right before we could enter The Serpent and the Rainbow. That was also the theatre were we spent several summers prior marking off our “Summer Movie Camp” cards. Every day of the week they showed a discounted movie for kids. It was the first time we got dropped off at the mall by ourselves. Our neighbor Jason would usually accompany us and his mom was so cheap she would have him stash cans of Big K sodas and Dollar Store-bought boxes of Jujubes and Chocolate Stars in his trench coat pockets. He shared.

The food court back then was not a myriad of ethnic culinary delights as mall food courts are now. I think the most exotic place was Picnic Pizza, owned and operated by a real Italian family. Why they chose to relocate to Antioch I do not know. My brother’s favorite place was Hot Dog on a Stick. He would get not one but two “Cheese Bars” which were huge logs of cheese on a stick, dipped and fried in batter. I did not partake in the infamous cheese bar but rather stared longingly at the various flavors tempting me from behind the glass at the Swenson’s counter. “That ice-cream is high” my mom said so many times. I think she only let me get their outrageously expensive ice cream twice before they turned it into a Sunglass Hut.

But she did occasionally let us buy candy from the Sears candy stand. Yes, Sears had a candy stand between Women’s Sleepwear and Automotives. You could smell the hot caramel and roasted nuts five sections away. There’s something mildly rebellious about eating confectionaries while shopping at a department store.

JCPenney’s had a hair salon and that’s where I got my first real ‘do and met Carson, my hairdresser for the next twenty years. I went from blunt bangs and long mane to the female mullet. My brother was so jealous. “Why can’t I get a cool haircut?” he demanded. Now he laughs at old photos of me.

Later a shoe store called Journeys opened and provided me and my brother with our first trendy skateboarding shoes and me with hours and hours of stalking staring at their top salesman. His long black hair and skate punk style left me completely star-struck and unable to utter more than a quivering “No, I’m just looking” anytime I actually went into the store when he was working.

I watched the mall change during those three decades. The flowing fountains and draping greenery changed to ceramic brick to accompany room for kiosks. The sunken dining area of the food court leveled to make room for more ever-changing food stands. The movie theatre demolished and turned into a Dollar Tree. The arcade made it through with several name changes.

This is the mall I remember. One of the only photos I could find of it on the internet.

This is the mall I remember. One of the only photos I could find of it on the internet.

And I have so many memories from those decades. Begging for throwing stars from Oriental Way. Sitting in swinging basket chairs at World Bazaar. Watching puppies through the plexi glass cages at Pass Pets. Getting my ears pierced at Claire’s. Buying my first pair of parachute pants at Chess King. Buying my first school dance outfit at Deb’s. Hanging out on a Friday night and seeing that popular metal-head/punk guy named Wolf and wondering what the hell his story was. Visiting my first openly gay friend who worked at Wilson’s Leather. My own retail career at Wolf Camera and Video for 3 years.

I’m glad with the help of my parents and my brother I can relive those memories. I wish I could go back to the mall and see it just as it was back in 1984. What a trip that would be. But it will just have to exist in my mind.

So I make new memories at another mall where I have taken my son here and there for the last 11 years. We spent the day there the other day sipping lemonade and smelling candles we couldn’t afford and racing each other on the Fast and Furious arcade game. I hope he will remember in the years to come. God willing I hope I do too.

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Things I Learned from my Dad

Things I learned from my dad:

Folding the perforated paper on the dotted line, both ways, before ripping it out of the notebook. Invaluable still. Keeps me from wasting paper, cursing more, and making a ragged mess out of a should-be perfect piece of parchment.

Blowing into the edge of the stick side of the (carefully opened) popsicle bag before lifting the popsicle out of said crinkly sheath. Keeps the popsicle pristine and the little ice crystals from sticking to the bag. And red or orange or purple no. 5 from sticking to your hand, which also causes more cursing.

Having a spotless car. Dad drove me crazy with his meticulous top-to-bottom, left-to-right way of washing vehicles throughout the years. But there was never a spot on the El Camino, Datsun, Caprice Estate, Cressida, or ’87 Toyota Pickup when he was finished with them. I wish I could say my Prius is the same. I’m lazy and run it through the automatic. But if I did grab a hose and proper sponge, soap, and tire brush, that girl would look like an Amsterdam black diamond.

Singing in church. Dad wasn’t considered Johnny Cash but he was definitely not tone-deaf. His baritone timbre vibrated around a 2-3 pew radius and his timing impeccable. If I got off track during “It is Well” I could always count on him to steer me back. There was no big screen with a PowerPoint flow of lyrics to follow. It was old school hymnals and Dad could read music good enough to keep that mass of naked voices around us sounding like, well, a choir at church!

Pushing me to get out of my comfort zone. When I was a kid I wanted to be an actor. When I got into high school I wanted to be in the school play. When I told my dad I wanted to act he replied, “You can’t act.” I was crushed. He was usually my advocate. But because I was a shy girl and never liked to put myself out there I guess he thought it was a pipe dream. So I took that lack of faith and made it my goal to prove him wrong. I ended up not only being in the play, but being the female lead. And guess who was in that audience every single night of performance? And with a camcorder to boot.

I could go on and on about all the things Dad taught me. How to gas up and start a lawn mower. How to use an old bed sheet to rake leaves on and dispose of lawn waste. How to do a proper cannonball. How to play “Chopsticks” on the piano. And I could go on and on about all the things he tried to teach me that just did not compute. Using the weed-eater. Math beyond 4th grade. The proper way to pack a car trunk. How to dive.

I hope he knows how much his presence in my childhood and into mid-adulthood means to me. A lot of other kids weren’t and aren’t so fortunate. And I know I don’t tell him enough.

Thank you Dad for not only teaching me things but for being present along the way. You were there for me even when I did stupid stuff. You held my hand and let me know you did dumb things too and everything would be okay.

me & dad

Happy Father’s Day, Dad. I love you.

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Oranges, Sage, Sand and Time

Yesterday while stepping outside the office to the parking lot I caught a whiff of some kind of dry brush percolating its arid scent in the late spring warmth. It immediately transported me back to 1989. To a sandy and rooted path towards the Mediterranean sea. I looked down at my feet and couldn’t believe I had really gone on that trip all those years ago. Seems like an eternity. The girl who traveled there had freckles and bushy brown hair and a wondering mind. I still have the freckles and a matured version of that mind so it must have been me.

I love how smells take you to places and evoke memories in an instant. In the midst of everyday life we step back and take a deep inhale through the honker and relive a moment as if it were right at our feet.

Take oranges for another example. That smell of freshly sliced citrus transports me back to an even earlier time. To childhood and the kitchen counter and the oranges stacked in a bowl during Christmastime. It is always Christmas when I smell an orange. And now the citrus fruits lining my lanai swell and ripen in wintertime.

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Fresh cut grass reminds me of Tennessee summers and my dad and my brother and the aggravation then prideful relief when the yard work was finished.

Decaying leaves and burning wood always remind me of fall and Halloween. The beginning of school days. Trick-or-treating. Playing in piles of orange and red and brown fallen oak and maple. Writing somber poetry.

Curry and coriander bring forth memories of Christmas Eve and our now decade-long family tradition of enjoying an Indian feast before driving around to see all the neighborhood holiday lights.

Instant coffee and tobacco– my grandparent’s house. Powder soap and crayons– elementary school. Soft, sweet Petunia– my mother’s garden. Aveeno Eczema Therapy lotion– my son’s infancy. Rain– lazy summer days and escaping to shelter. Cinnamon– all the good memories ever all wrapped into one.

Last night I stared down at my feet after a good jog on the causeway. The terrain underneath reminded me of that path to the Mediterranean sea and the desert of the Australian Outback and all the places I’ve been and seen and experienced. It’s still a bit of a shock how much I’ve done. The smell of the salty, shelly gulf wafted around me and I smelled not a memory but a presence. I was home. And alive in the present with all the memories of the past in my brain waiting for the frontal lobe to spark the temporal and let me relive them again, if only for a time.

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Sunset by the Sea

That golden orb
lay down so eloquently
the bottom of it
pulled down by the sea
or perhaps the rotation
of the earth
that which we cannot see

And I shared a bench
with an old man
who did not speak
But I heard his heart
when his eyes were alight
no grief
We took in the moment
each of us our own thoughts
dreams hopes desires
beliefs

Sunset by the sea
I gave gratitude
for you and me
for spirit peace equality

A couple lay in each other’s arms
a family played joyfully
mother and son
daddy and baby
a circle of souls
waxing philosophically
three women late in their years
a wet-eared puppy

That golden orb
not a backdrop
but the focus of the moment
holding us all together
to bask in its enjoyment

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