In the fall I live in a gold burgundy box with bronzed carpet
In the winter a white box with a wrap around shawl In the spring I live in box wearing a moist leprechaun green coat In the summer I live in a dark green box, walls floors and canopied ceiling I like living in these boxes they are not sealed I can breathe in my box I am glad I don't live in a gray concrete box called City. In the fall I live in a gold burgundy box with bronzed carpet In the winter a white box with a wrap around shawl In the spring I live in box wearing a moist leprechaun green coat In the summer I live in a dark green box, walls floors and canopied ceiling I like living in these boxes they are not sealed I can breathe in my box I am glad I don't live in a gray concrete box called City.
3 Comments
I am going to reveal something that has been my secret for many years, it is time I admitted about this private relationship. I believe we first met in about 1980 when I finally took up permanent residence in Australia, until that point I had been fairly set in my ways but one day something in me broke loose and I have never been the same again until today.
It happened in the early hours of a morning, not the usual time to start a partnership, it so took me by surprise, yet we have been friends ever since. I casual glance, a stirring, and intrepid move to make the connection and voila that was it, a love, a knowing, an appreciation, complete utter desire, a wanting a yearning, unquestionable thirst for more, one-touch on the lips and my hormones raced. I have nursed this relationship for all these years sometimes we had a much-needed separation yet we would always come back together hungrier than the last. An uncontrollable need to be together. Why are these bonds so hard to break ? An addiction to connection a need, a desire so strong willpower it evaporates the desire unquenchable? I feel like a drug addict. Prior to this meeting life had been so much simpler. Years have past and to this day we have shared a lot together. It is time for confession as everything is unraveling I feel it is in my best interest to be transparent about this secret lover. Today I am announcing my divorce from this unhealthy partnership. This COVID has brought to light the necessity for self-reflection and honesty, I have carried shame for too long it is essential to release guilt and codependency. Thank you you all for listening so I wave goodbye to the old bean and once again return to being faithful and say au revoir to that rich cream foamy frothy sexy Cappucino/ latte, macchiato, Americano, drip, french press, espresso and offer a peace offering to my teapot. I am so sorry I traded you for coffee. I am sure it was the result of the sexy Italian waiter he drew hearts in the foam on my first cup on that unforgettable morning in Florentino Restaurant in Collins Street Melbourne and served it with such a suave gesture I swear he infused his sex into the cup. That is where the romance began. My cup overflowed with the mouthwatering aroma, from then on those rich dark exotic experiences would pave the way to seek the crème de la crème of the best coffee roasted bean. Today, I am marrying my teapot and inviting others to join me at my ceremony. I am now officially uncaffeinated. So long, my dear friend, you have served me well every morning for 30 years. Thank you from the bottom of my cup. Musings
I have a hundred stories in my head yet nothing has velcroed onto the pages. I am finding this stay at home rule is causing mental overload and consequently a challenge to fully focus on the creative zone in my brain. My head is full of ideas for my future, what I need to take care of, how I need to be prepared for the fall. I have not been anxious up to this point, the mood of spring has been infectious, newness, growth, beauty, possibilities. Listening to the robin's morning song, witnessing the crows and eagles dancing in the skies. Focusing on the morning sun climbing higher in the sky, smiling as the bright colored petunias settle into their mosaic pots. The resurgence of over- wintered geraniums, a miracle that this annual has survived the frost and cold? Perhaps that is a good metaphor for what is possible, even my chrysanthemum is sprouting new growth, it is ahead of itself but clearly excited to be part of the flower family on the deck. Should I waver in my hope and optimism all I must do is walk with mother nature to hear her message. Beauty and possibilities abound, it seems an easy quest. Yet, as I sit in my rocking share and dissect my busy head and emotions, I cannot sway with the rhythms of spring my nervous system oscillates and wobbles. How did this apprehension and uneasiness arise with such force, hijacking my thoughts and feelings? Of course! Facebook and all other media outlets THEY need to be put into potting soil and buried until next spring. Does the geranium live in fear of a year in the cold soil? Do trees regret at losing their leaves? Does the blueberry bush wonder if the fruit will never appear again, are the birds thinking of signing up for online dating In case they will never find a mate? Are the worms making plans to migrate? Should the salmon change their spawning habits? Of course not, cycles are the quintessential rhythm am affirmation of the earths clock, everything changes and evolves. As I sit in this knowing, I exhale, allow myself to rock gently in comfort. I too, am in a cycle. I can give myself permission to dream to let things flow. How hard it is to push through the hard-cold earth oftentimes fraught with enemies and challenges. With faith and knowledge, I surrender to be in this moment, I talk to my mother, Mother Nature and I sense her wisdom wrap around my kaleidoscope of thoughts and worries to exhale and believe that this cycle will subside and I can now concentrate on rewriting a new story in my head. AMEN What is good about today ? Let me list some of the parts of my early mornings that bring me joy. Such simple actions make me smile and give me warm fuzzies all over. The wet nose of my dog nudging me to wake up, a groan from me is signal from him to lick my face coupled with a healthy shove on my body “ “GET up lazy bones time to pee and then eat he murmurs in my ear”. I leave the warmth of my bed to escort him to the front door so he can do his business. The rush of cool air greets me, the smile at the purple petunias singing on the front porch. The resident robins’ morning chorus sings to my heart. The frenzy at the birdfeeder just like a drive thru, they are gathering to dine on sunflowers seeds, millet and other delicacies. The sparrows dance around squabbling with each other mother feeding her chicks, the ground feeder Towhee collecting all the remains his dappled tawny chest catching the morning sunlight his tail significant and regal. A yellow morning light parts the clouds perhaps the promise of a sunny day. There is a stillness from the fir trees sentinels to my home, the ceremonial Beefeater's Yeoman guards, protecting my crown jewels, that of my home and garden. The huge umbrella maple trees waving in slow motion nodding branches beckoning a landing spot to the crows and gymnastic squirrels. All the garden smiles there is beauty emerging from the soil a village of industry. My gratefulness extends to the worms, the silt the sand the clay, fertilizer the magic and the soul of the garden building joy and life from all the natural elements. More gratefulness as I turn on my coffee machine and watch an aromatic brown liquid gently fall into my favorite mug, a pleasure for my senses, my palette, my cognitive process awakening. Sipping on my morning nectar I rock gently back and forth, and my porch and I give thanks to my world. I know if I open my device, I will find another world wrought with anger, hate, fear, disappointment, spilling form every part of the world. But for me today I am listening to the sounds of the birds, bees and my dog snoring satisfied after dining on his breakfast kibble. My day is a good day today. What is good today is what I choose to focus on, for today there is nothing more than that. Amen Forty Days and Forty Nights
By Pattie Hanmer Following the restrictions put in place by our local Governor and the mandated self-isolation imposed by the health regulations of Washington State, I am force to entertain myself and my family during these months of the COVID-19 pandemic. Luckily for me, I am not trapped in a home with anyone. Just me and my dog during COVID-19 and he seems to entertain himself licking his paws and food bowl. The word "quarantine" originates from the Venetian language form, “quarantena”, meaning "forty days". This is due to the 40-day isolation of ships and people that needed to stay on board before they went into port during the time of the Bubonic plague. I am not counting the days. They all seem to run together like a “Groundhog Day” scenario. So, the quest is to entertain myself, keep healthy, be vigilant about forming good mental habits, and to make sure that I have a daily supply of oxytocin to avoid an overload of cortisol hijacking the body. To this point, I have reveled in how this experience of forty days and forty nights of self-isolation is a rather biblical experience. Every day I allow my creative self to conjure up a story, a piece of art, a new recipe in the kitchen, or devise a new plan to move forward. There is so much available to learn, study and absorb due to the immense availability of digital information at my fingertips. The challenge is to sort out the chaff from the wheat. Who has ever been in a pandemic before with an internet? We could be consumed with the news being dispersed from every corner of the world - it is a viral information epidemic which I consider is more harmful than the virus itself. I have coined the time BC, DC, and AC (Before COVID-19, During COVID-19 and After COVID-19). I can speak to the first two but the After AC is mystifying. So, I will focus on the DC time from my perspective. Perhaps in years to come this decade will be known as “The COVID-19 Age” not the “Iron Age” or the “Bronze Age” but a historical period of time that was equivalent to the past extensive civilizations but condensed to a 10 year cycle due to the global impact and the behavioral adjustments that arose during this significant time. Initially, my mind and thoughts are busy trying to decide whether to purchase appropriate stocks in this bear market. Three months ago, I might have bought Zoom or Johnson and Johnson, but alas I am no Warren Buffet, I do not have the financial vision that perhaps was in the Wall Street ethers. Now I focus on mother nature and her bounty. The gardens, the flowers, the birds, the new growth. An explosion of tulips in my garden, a rainbow of bliss. My cherry blossom tree, with a sweet perfume - delicate, pretty and in full bloom; this seems much healthier rather than wealthier concerns to explore and appreciate. My latest new activity is hiking the Shinglemill Trail on Vashon Island, an undulating hike of a mile or more from mid-island to the water. I love going in the late afternoon when the birds are getting ready to settle down into their tree condos. It reminds me of New Zealand - peaceful, tranquil, and provides a sense of my own private Universe. It provides a perfect opportunity to hug a tree rather than hugging a person. Quietly and with intention, I wrap my arms around a hemlock, fir or cedar tree providing me a deep nourishment, a very consoling alternative to a human, my nose appreciates the aroma from the bark and the moss, preferable to a Chanel No. 5 or petunia essential oil which can sometimes be overwhelming on a person. My days flow along. I do not even count them. I have a routine of some kind, yet I know the gradual pull to the familiar does not help my neuro-connectors; and this is a not a time for complacency. This is an opportunity to be still, reflect, consider what is essential in life, and discover what it is I could be doing to move forward with what supports me and my community. So much information is flowing, and it is an overload to the nervous system; so, I am choosing to keep my life simple and find my “Giggly spot”. This is great medicine for anyone that is feeling the intensity of the pandemic. I have chosen several friends to share fun stories in a “Chicken Soup of the Soul” kind of way, from memes to streaming videos, “YouTubes” and a whole host of entertainment from years-past TV and movies. In this way I have found my “Giggly spot”. I dedicate at least 10 minutes a day to laughing out loud either on the phone with a friend or with myself. Norman Cousins, an American political journalist, wrote a book “Anatomy of An Illness.” In the 1960's he had been diagnosed with a degenerative disease which left him in constant pain, and he was told he would die in a few months. He disagreed and reasoned that stress had contributed to his illness, he believed positive emotions would help cure his disorder. So, he checked out from a hospital and took huge doses of Vitamin C while watching humorous films and “laughing matter”. He discovered 10 minutes of a good belly laugh would ease his pain and was more effective than morphine. His condition improved and within 6 months he was back on his feet and able to resume work. His story baffled the scientific community and inspired several research programs. I do not believe it is a panacea for the virus, but it is a good ingredient towards helping my state of being. I am choosing to avoid conflict - I do not want my energy to be contaminated. I am seeking people who look towards the world with optimism to inspire me and to make me laugh. My giggly spot floods my body with endorphins a natural immune fighter, and I hope to spread a laughing virus. Forty days and forty nights of laughing is my quest. I can only do what I can do for my wellness and self-care; however, if it can offer just a dose of happiness to others, then I will feel I am contributing towards helping some stress to subside. Simply seeking inner peace, listening to inner wisdom. |