Archive for the The Journey Category

There are so many things in this world that are bad for you, and plenty of people eager to lecture you about them. From GMO’s to CFO’s, it seems we can’t escape the madness. The only way to truly be safe is to build a bunker, line it with asbestos free insulation, and live there with no outside contact with the world. With my luck, however, it would probably leak and I would contract foot fungus.

There are times in life when you have to chuck logic out the window and just indulge in your guilty pleasure. Last night I was feeling a little sorry for myself. It’s one thing I truly excel at. My cranky hip is giving me grief so I was forced(oh the horror) to stop what I was doing and take a 20 minute Epsom Salt bath to relieve the pain. I realize this sounds like a luxury to a lot of women but stopping my evening routines to sit still is torturous to perpetual movers like me.

I picked out about 20 minutes worth of music on my Samsung Galaxy III phone(shameless plus) and leaned back to let the relief begin. I climbed from the tub about 25 minutes later and my husband said, “Juice Newton? Really?” You see, I had been caterwauling ‘Queen of Hearts’ about 10 minutes too long for him.

Juice Newton? Why not. I mean, she’s corny, catchy, and fills me with nostalgia. She wrote one of the greatest love/pain songs of all time back in the 80’s and it has stuck with me ever since. In fact, I cannot play a game of cards without singing that song every single time I see a queen of hearts, much to the chagrin of my middle son, who is completely addicted to all things cards. As far as guilty pleasures go, she has fewer calories than a bag of M&Ms, won’t fry my brain, like a narcotic, and she’s a “natural” mood enhancer that won’t cause caffeine withdrawals. In fact, now that I think about it, the only guilt I experience when rockin’ out to her grooves is the erroneous objections of my family. Juice Newton = BLISS!

So, my inspirational advice for today is, if you have been eating too much ice cream(don’t scream at your son when he asks for it just because you know you can’t give him some and not eat it yourself) and want a good alternative, find your favorite jam and jam to your heart’s content. (Side effects may include eye rolling from spouse and children and endless teasing from friends but these effects are temporary and will subside within a few days)

We made a trip to the country on Saturday to visit my grandparents on the farm. It was a beautiful day. We got to pick blackberries(I made a cobbler) and we got to see cows, and I even caught a teeny, tiny fish in the river. I had a wonderful visit with my grandparents and learned how to play “Crazy 8’s.” Then I had to come home. To the stinky city. To my small weed infested yard and a pile of bills.

When I grow up I want to live in the country. I want to eat fresh fried catfish and wade through weeds and get chiggers. Well, maybe not chiggers. But it is a simpler life out in the country. Time just slogs by, like a stick floating in the current.

I could go on and on dreaming but the truth is, country living is also hard living. My grandparents are getting up there in years and are struggling to keep everything going. Caring for cattle is hard work and they’ve lost several head this year. My aunt and uncle do their best to put up hay and take care of the monstrous black angus moo cows and I bet if I asked them, they would say there is nothing slow or easy about it.

My point is this, the grass always looks greener on the other side. Visiting the country is nice. It’s a cool day trip where I get to hang out at the river and soak up the sunshine. But actually maintaining a farm is not easy. I’ve often heard my grandma say what hard work it is and she is not lazy! My fondest memories are her berry stained hands rolling out dough for a pie or cobbler. And I don’t remember her sitting down much, well maybe to core and peel pears for canning. I have so many sweet memories that I let nostalgia sweep me away and forget about the cow patties. We discovered this on the way to the river. We began walking down the pretty, white sandy path only to be knocked over by the smell of digested hay, recently passed through the gastrointestinal tract of several cows. Fun times!

It would be easy to grumble and groan about my city life. And it’s true, some days I do grumble about it. But focusing on what I don’t have(a farm) won’t make me happy. I need to be content with what I have. And I do have many wonderful blessings. I don’t need to list them here. I know what they are.

Well, I’ll list one. This morning when I got up for my walk I saw a large barn owl sitting on the wire outside my neighbors house. I stopped next to it and looked up at its majestic face. It looked down at me and regarded me for a few minutes while I watched in awe. Then it gazed into the distance and forgot about me. It was the single most wonderful thing I have experienced all year. Yes, even better than the country.

Today, count your blessings. Don’t long for what you don’t have(I know-double negative, sorry!) Be content with what you do. And visit the country or the ocean or the mountains. Life is beautiful, and the grass is just as green on your side of the fence. You just have to open your eyes and really look at it.

Our days are short and we take them for granted. We waste time thinking there will be more of it tomorrow. But one day we won’t have a tomorrow. We are finite creatures with a limited number of days. Immortality is a dream.

I’m sitting here in the quiet of my room listening to the crickets and the ghosts of words gone by. So often we sling our words like sabers; hacking and wounding with little thought to their recourse. One moment our lips say, “I love you” and the next something treacherous. Once spoken we cannot take them back. It seems a simple thing to watch what we say but bridling the tongue is much more difficult than it appears.

Even worse, sometimes harsh words take root in our hearts. The barb sprouts and sows a harvest of bitterness. The offender says “I’m sorry” but the offended finds it difficult to forgive because they don’t have a mental eraser to wipe away the bruises. So it seems logical that we use our words carefully, especially with those we love the most. So why don’t we?

Be kind. Be generous. Be sweet and true. Even when you don’t feel like it. Even when it feels impossible. Especially when you’re tired. Better yet, when you are frustrated. Be kind when every one else is not and you will shine like a star. Anyone can use their words as weapons. Why not use yours to heal?