Mirror, Mirror

It seems to me that if we have a wee bit of courage and an open mind and heart...

...if we develop enough fortitude to spend time with ourSelf; get comfortable with ourSelf; really take the time to examine what makes one singularly special and necessary; truly get to know who you are...

...if we fearlessly investigate what makes us happy and content.  If we learn what we want from life and expect of ourSelf... learn why we are here...  see what is possible and what we wish to accomplish...

...then maybe, just maybe...

...we can run through life with wonder, amazement and joy. Just like my beloved, intrepid Thoryn Peach whose mother, Alea, I have loved since she was that small.

I hope you find joy in your day and your life, just like Thoryn!

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka She Who Is Still Learning About HerSelf

Lessons From The School Bus Driver

 This morning the door bell rang and I opened the door to see Jack standing there with a smile.  Jack and his family are the great gardeners that do jobs for me that I can't manage by myself anymore.  Especially since I don't have any place to let the clippings and cutting compost.  He takes all that away with him to his farm. 

He's such a great person, as is his wife Olive and son, Eric.  So very easy to deal with and talk to; as a matter of fact, we can get into such great conversations that I sometimes feel guilty for taking up their valuable time, but they seem to enjoy this aspect of service just as much.  So, being able to spend some time in the company of kind people is a bonus.

Today, when I said, "Jack, the door's open if you need anything or if there are questions," he responded, "No questions.  Just wanted to let you know we're here and will get started and see how far we can get.  You know school's back in session and I'm the bus driver again."

I asked how his bus is this year; you often hear stories about how some unfortunate drivers end up with Satan Spawn as passengers.  He said, "No problem.  They're good.  I set the rules with them from the very first day. I think kids need to be allowed to be kids, but they have to be respectful."

It was then that Jack the Gardener/Bus Driver taught me a great many things in the conversation that followed:  Jack says "Good Morning," to every child who gets on the bus and waits for them to wish him the same.  If they don't, he makes a joke out of it by saying, broadly, "Why good morning to you, too, Jack!"  He says he only has to do that one time and then the kid remembers he has to return the greeting.

Each afternoon, as they exit his bus, he says to each one of them, "Good evening," and waits for them to respond in kind.  And, they do.  Many of them say, "Thank you."  That's a bonus!

If a child addresses them as, "Bus Driver," he kindly corrects them and say, "My name is Jack, I drive a bus.  If you need me, please use my name."  They do.  He doesn't require that they call him Mr. Jack, but many do, and that's also a bonus.

He tells them, "You all will be many different things in life.  Some might be surgeons, or farmers, or lawyers, or bus drivers.  You'll all be different, but the one thing you all must know how to do to be successful is know how to recognize and acknowledge another Human Being."

So, he sets about teaching them that through the daily expression of a simple courtesy.  On his bus, in the average day, without a big deal, Jack is teaching these little plantlets how to grow into fine specimens of Human Beings.

And it happens just by getting on Jack's bus.

It seems to me, that if each one of us, through our usual routines and jobs, remembered to extend those sorts of lessons quietly to each child or person we encounter, we could collectively make a huge difference in turning this increasingly graceless world back into one that is kind and good.

Thanks, Jack!  For teaching me something today, especially since I never rode a bus to school.  Have a good day!

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly

Silent Sermon Sunday

Life transpires in the gray places

between the absolutes of black and white.

If you seek certainty,

give love.

If you wish peace,

find it in the conversation, the communion,

with the God/Goddess of your understanding.

And remember that you are the Face of God in the 

misty gray.  

So smile often and kindly.

Namaste' Till Next Time,

Holly

Image from the Internet: Stotebury, WV~ St. John the Baptist Church by Victoria Bowden

Silent Sermon Sunday

May we have the eyes to see the beauty 

in every season and every situation.

Most particularly, in every Human Being.

Namaste' Till Next Time,

Holly

Fiona & Argyle

Argyle has come home from the vet's office in fine shape after surgery.  Slow, a bit groggy and sore, but fine.  I've given him the love and quiet that I can.  Reiki has been flowing to him to help with the discomfort.  He's going to be fine.  I feel that neutering a pet dog is the best thing to do.  Research shows that from a health perspective it's absolutely the best thing.  And, from a personality point of view, it also helps.  After all, who needs a dog that feels, all the time, an itch it can't scratch?!  It has to have a negative effect!

Fiona checked him out closely when we brought him back home.  Inspection complete, she wagged her tail just the slightest bit to say, "Welcome home."  Rory seemed very concerned, in the morning, when we packed Argyle up solo.  It may have been that he knew he was going "riding in the truck," and he wasn't being invited to go along, but I sense it may have been more than that.  He definitely didn't like that we were taking the puppy away.  So, it seems that Argyle really and truly is one of the Frock Pack now.

The change happened in small increments.  Episode by episode.  In barely noticeable ways.  Every now and again, you'd see something to confirm that Rory & Fiona were beginning to accept the puppy, but then there were other moments when I was sure they were plotting his murder.

The thing I absolutely didn't predict was how Fiona would find her mothering nature thanks to Argyle.  Being 10 days older than Rory, she has always asserted her power over him; he has never argued her thinking and tolerates her bossy behavior.   She has always directed Rory, but never mothered him per se.  

I just didn't think she had it in her to be motherly.  I was wrong;  when it comes to this puppy, she has been very matronly in a stern and imperious way, for sure, but that's her nature as the Alpha.  But motherly, none the less.  She's actually been nicer to him than Rory has been, especially the first few weeks.  Rory was very snappy and rough with him.

When Argyle needs quiet time, or wants to know all is right with the world, you'll find him close to Fiona.  And, that's how I found him on the steps with her, patting her softly on the back.  People who do not live with animals, will tell you they have no deliberate thoughts or intentions as we understand Humans to have...

Those of us who live with animals understand what a load of crapola that thinking is...  I watched that puppy softly touch her on the back and stay that way for a few quiet moments before he put his head down and rested knowing she was close.

So I'm writing this one to acknowledge Fiona for being so uncharacteristically good to the puppy.  And, to say she surprised me in a good way by her ability to let another dimension of her true nature blossom.  It reminds me that the same is true for us when we rise to the occasion of sharing our virtues and growing parts that are resting dormant.

I have to go now and sit with my puppy patient who is still sore and wondering where parts of him have disappeared...Fiona is sitting next to him.  She's a good nurse.  I'm impressed.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka Mommer

The Last of Christmas

I can't put it off any longer. Day-light savings time has been here for awhile now. I started the garden clean-up; started being the operative word.

Most of the Christmas decorations have been packed away; most being the operative word in that sentence. I've hung an early spring wreath on the front door. Even my slow tree in the front yard is beginning to bud.

Yep, winter has gone, the Solstice was a few days ago. Even as I contemplate this idea, I'm still amazed that for many of my blogging friends on the far side of the world, it means that summer is over and they are headed into fall. I wonder, if I could time share with them, it means I could live in my favorite season all year long! I'll have to give that more consideration...

The thunder storms have started early. The spring rains are doing their best to remind me of the season change. And yet...here I sit looking at this last vestige of the holiday season. Yes, because of the adorable wee lights and the colors, but mostly as a way to recall a significant kindness done during the season of lights.

You may have read my post about Dad making a ceramic Christmas tree for me many years ago. When I wrote The Season of Remembering I was toying with the idea that the things in your life take on a different meaning and importance as we get older.

Very shortly after I posted it, I got a Face Book message from the daughter of a friend of mine; I haven't spoken with her in a years. Alea wrote to say that she now lives in Florida and has a ceramics shop. She wanted to let me know that she had got a great many requests of late for the Christmas trees, invariably a patron saying, "My (fill in the blank,) had one of these when I was little and I thought I'd make one for our home because I remember the lights..."

She wanted to know if she could print and post my blog because she thought it really captured the appeal of these holiday tchotchkes. I whole-heartedly agreed. I suggested she print a bunch and leave them at her counter for people to pick up. I went on to say that I had always wanted one of the really little trees but, they weren't around when Dad made mine and that, yes, I really did love the one he made.

It was great hearing from Alea; a nice holiday moment of catching up. Hearing that a once tiny, precoutious child is finding her way happily and creatively through life is always a gift.

A few days later, in the mail arrived a wee tree. The accompanying note from Alea said she hoped it would add to my joy of the holidays and thanked me for letting her print my post. Many people had been in to paint a tree for their home.

And so, a tradition continues for another generation to enjoy. That's really what the holidays are about...creating a moment when life is predictable and gentle and joyous.

Shortly after the holidays, I had surgery and one thing lead to another and, well, the little tree never got put away. And, I never got a thank you note off to Alea, which is very unlike me. I hope she reads this to understand how grateful I am to her generosity and talents. And how the little tree will be a new moment of remembering.

Today it is pouring buckets and its so gray and gloomy that, even though I was going to put the wee tree away finally...I think I'll just sit here and look at those tiny sparks of color and smile a bit longer.

I hope you can find some color and love in your day today.

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka Aunt Holly

Seek & You Will Find

"Something within each of us waits and listens for the sound of the genuine... If you hear it, and turn toward it, it will free you."

~ Paula D'Arcy
Waking Up To This Day:
Seeing the Beauty Right Before Us

I hope this week gives you ample opportunity to listen and turn toward it...


Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka She Who Strives To Be Genuine

Forgiveness- Part of Letting Go

Today, as part of the emotional clean-out I talked about yesterday, I'm going to take some time to look over the hard parts of my life. The parts that were delivered to me at the hands of another. And, I'm going to sit in the hard place of reliving the event.

I'm going to deliberately sit in the shadows for awhile today. I won't like sitting there. It will make me feel anxious. And, angry, even. But, it needs to be done. This is the kind of cleaning when you really take a look at the far corners of the basement. You know there are spider webs and other icky things there. You also know that if you really want to make a clean sweep of everything, you have to take a deep breath and dive in so it can be swept out. Otherwise, even though you gave it a good attempt, your basement won't really be clean.

I want my emotional basement, attic, closet, crawl-space clean and ready for the new year. Not just surface clean. I want the deep, satisfying sensation you get after you've tackled a job that seemed daunting; when you worked really hard and at the end of it, you have that wonderful sense of accomplishment. Don't you feel proud of your work?

It's almost like you reclaim part of your space when you toil through a spot that has gone untouched for so long. I always feel like I should plant a flag in it, like you see those explorers doing at the top of mountains...

Forgiveness is the elbow grease that's required in today's clean-up. It's the flag that I want to plant on the top of the emotional mountain. And, it's just as hard to accomplish as if I took the trek up a mountain or through the darkest jungle.

It would be easy to forgive if I could forget. Actually, it wouldn't be required at all. If I never remembered who hurt me and how, I'd live my life with relative ease. And, I think that's what confuses most of us when it comes to forgiveness. We get frustrated because we think, "Okay, I said I forgive her, but honestly, every time I think of what she did, I get so hurt." If we truly forgive, doesn't it mean that we'll eventually forget?

No.

You'll never forget. And, that's why forgiveness is a miracle with which you bless another. It's something that you probably will give repeatedly to a situation, a part of your past, every time your memory drops you back into the dark place. Forgiveness must be given repeatedly.

That's not to say you should continue with a person who always does things to harm you. That would be crazy. Learn to let go of situations and people who never do anything more than wound you. Walk away. Run, even.

But, to those who have brought you life experiences that hurt, while helping you know more about being a Human Being... Those are the ones that you must forgive. Even though you will most likely never forget. Forgiveness given is a miracle that blesses both people. You for giving it. Them for getting it.

We're not supposed to forget. I think that having a memory is the vehicle that allows us to practice forgiveness. Forgiveness for allowing ourselves to get hurt. Forgiveness of the one who did the hurting.

If you need me, I'll be in the basement. Wish me luck!

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly

Dog As Teacher

As I sit here at the computer, I am joined by my two companions, Rory and Fiona. For those of you who haven't met them, they are my three-year-old Scottish Terriers, or as Aunt Katherine says, Scottish Terrorists. If you have ever shared a home with a terrier of any sort, you understand the jest. Terriers are nothing if not tenacious. I am amazed by what I learn from them each day.

I’ve been blessed by several canine companions over the years. Five of them have been Cairn Terriers, and one Husky/Shepherd mix. All of them have had very distinct personalities, some more lovable than others. My last Cairn, Meggie, who died after 16 good years, really believed she was a princess. Everyone called her that, so she must have been correct.

It was Heyoka, my mutt, who easily captured everyone’s heart and made them smile. He absolutely loved every second of life even though he’d been abandoned and left in the streets. Once he found his way to my secure home, he blossomed into the dog who taught me the most about love and loving life.

Each morning, he stood next to the bed wagging his tail, as if to say, “Happy to me, it’s a new day!” He’d hurry to the kitchen for a treat and his morning stroll in the yard. That was the start of his day for years. Even when it was hard as he got older, or when recovering from a painful surgery, he still wagged his tale and seemed grateful for the day. He was an uncomplicated dog with small needs and a huge sense of well being and joy. He gave me a great deal of comfort during the lonely times of my life. I miss his doggy smile and his adoring presence!

All of my dogs possess the one virtue that I lack- patience. You might have guessed that from my rant about English! Although I am much better now than I used to be, patience is still not mine. It’s been said that, “Patience is a virtue acquired by habit.” So, I’ve attempted to acquire the habit of being patient. Watching my animals, sometimes I think I’m on the verge of understanding it more. Dogs don’t practice patience, they just have it.

Thanks to Fiona and Rory, I think I might have some deeper insight to the patience thing. The other day their walk was suddenly canceled when I had to take an important call. They waited hopefully for a minute or two and then, with leashes still on, laid down and took a nap. That’s when it hit me; I’ve been going about it the wrong way! You can’t acquire patience by doing anything. You can’t practice it until it’s a habit. Patience is the outcome of learning to live life with acceptance.

My dogs accept that they will get fed when I get to it. They accept that they can stay out in the yard for as long as I wish to be out there to watch them. They accept that they only go for a walk when I am ready to take them. They accept that it’s time for bed when I turn out the lights. And, it’s all right by them. Because they are so accommodating, I go out of my way to keep them on a usual routine, treat them with love, and do things they like.

So, instead of patience, I think I’ll start practicing acceptance. I’ll accept my day as it comes. Accept that people will not always do what I think they should. Accept that every situation will not come out as I’d wish. Along with it, I need a sense of hope so that each moment I always expect the best. Joy needs to be in that recipe, too. Joy in simple things like a drink of fresh cool water or my favorite snack. And, walks with the person I love most in the world. If I live in acceptance from moment to moment, I will be patient with things as they unfold. And, I will be patient with myself and those in my life.

But, for now I have to go. My two teachers are stretching and looking at me with hopeful expressions that say clearly, “It’s time for dinner, oh joy!”

Namaste' Till Next Time,
Holly aka Mommer