Life, as we all have heard, is not about the destination; it's about the journey.
If you actually ponder that statement, it could make a world of difference for you. Envision enjoying waking up each day, thrilled with the prospect of another sunrise, a beautiful drive to a job, chatting with co-workers, meeting new people, learning new talents, a delicious dinner, followed by an incredible sunset and then a peaceful night of unwinding before thankful prayers and sleep. How many of us can say that's how we proceed through each day?
Imagine if you did!
Far too often we get caught up in the tedium, the minutia, the seemingly insurmountable mountain of absurdity that we choose to acknowledge each day. Just consider the difference it would make if we chose to leave the things we cannot alter or amend in a heap by the bedside with our pajamas each morning. Free yourself from the what-if's, the maybe's, the might-be's. Focus on the I can's, I will's, and the WOW! That was really fun's.
Today, I will begin by writing myself into a smile, followed by a good workout, and then perhaps a new pair of sneakers to lighten my step. I hope, for you, a day of new, fresh, and exhilarating moments.
Choose to enjoy the trip!
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Friday, July 29, 2011
A Ch-Angel of Note
It is hard enough to be an adolescent person. Life is seemingly in such turmoil every day. Friends are fickle, parents are overbearing and overwhelming, school is a roller-coaster of work and emotion. Love is some sort of game for only the popular crowd and the dangled carrot is never captured.
Until . . .
Nearly thirty years ago, someone very special showed a little interest. It is absolutely astounding what a little attention can do to the psyche of a young teenage person. I had, for a couple of years prior, been finding an outlet in prose. I wrote when I was happy. I wrote to release tension. I wrote of those I secretly admired and wished to be closer to. I didn't have any idea where this would lead, but knew that it was a tremendous vent for so much pent up energy.
Apparently, this wonderful woman, saw those same opportunities. She offered me a writing book with heartfelt words of encouragement to follow my dreams of poetry and writing. While I sat in a world of turmoil and trauma, this Ch-Angel of mine saw through the madness and encouraged me to pour out my heart, my soul, my thoughts, and desires.
Since that time, I have had several poems published in various publications. I have had two children's books published and have had the gumption enough to start this blog. I find writing to be an incredible outlet of raw emotion and, when pushed to the proverbial brink, I am often woken in the wee hours of the morning with inspiration and can often write lengthy verse in a single, unedited session.
It is because of the prodding of this Ch-Angel that I have been able to accomplish these things. When others showed no faith or belief in me or my talents, this Blessing-of-a-Beautiful-Person was always there . . . pom poms flailing in undeniable cheers! Through all this time, she continues to push me to continue, to write, to rhyme, to create. She is my second mom and also one of my mom's best friends.
And so, to you my Ch-Angel of the day, I offer my love and my thanks. There are a multitude of moments I would never have survived without you and your urgings to pursue the talents God gave me. Thank you for all of that and thank you . . . for you!
I love you!
Until . . .
Nearly thirty years ago, someone very special showed a little interest. It is absolutely astounding what a little attention can do to the psyche of a young teenage person. I had, for a couple of years prior, been finding an outlet in prose. I wrote when I was happy. I wrote to release tension. I wrote of those I secretly admired and wished to be closer to. I didn't have any idea where this would lead, but knew that it was a tremendous vent for so much pent up energy.
Apparently, this wonderful woman, saw those same opportunities. She offered me a writing book with heartfelt words of encouragement to follow my dreams of poetry and writing. While I sat in a world of turmoil and trauma, this Ch-Angel of mine saw through the madness and encouraged me to pour out my heart, my soul, my thoughts, and desires.
Since that time, I have had several poems published in various publications. I have had two children's books published and have had the gumption enough to start this blog. I find writing to be an incredible outlet of raw emotion and, when pushed to the proverbial brink, I am often woken in the wee hours of the morning with inspiration and can often write lengthy verse in a single, unedited session.
It is because of the prodding of this Ch-Angel that I have been able to accomplish these things. When others showed no faith or belief in me or my talents, this Blessing-of-a-Beautiful-Person was always there . . . pom poms flailing in undeniable cheers! Through all this time, she continues to push me to continue, to write, to rhyme, to create. She is my second mom and also one of my mom's best friends.
And so, to you my Ch-Angel of the day, I offer my love and my thanks. There are a multitude of moments I would never have survived without you and your urgings to pursue the talents God gave me. Thank you for all of that and thank you . . . for you!
I love you!
Thursday, July 28, 2011
The Power of Positive Thinking
About a hundred years ago, I read "The Power of Positive Thinking." Even at a young age, I realized there really was something to it and have learned in the many years since that it's as true as true can be.
No matter what obstacles may stand in your way, it is YOUR choice to perceive them as large and looming, or perhaps, as learning and lessons. There are countless incidents of this in my life, so I will only name a few to connect to several genres.
At 17, my boyfriend of nearly three years left me stranded by a lake about 3 miles from my house after breaking up with me. He did not give me a reason for the break-up or the leaving me there. I was devastated. That first boyfriend really takes a toll on a young girl's heart. I cried for a long time as I sat at the edge of the lake. After a while, a rather furry bunny (one of my favorite critters) hopped nearly in my lap. He just nibbled on grass and hung out for a long time. I realized I had stopped crying and was totally engrossed in this oddity/blessing that God had put before me. I chose to see it as a positive sign. How often do bunnies just kind of hop up and hang out with you? I walked all the way home and never looked back. I made a few changes, cut my hair, joined and gym and . . . met a new boy. Hmmmmmmmmm.
At 21, that second boy moved me to Atlanta, Georgia from New York. After about six months, he slipped up and I found out he had been VERY unfaithful to me. I could have run away home, back to New York, but as I stared at the pre-engagement ring he had given me, I decided to turn this into a positive. I sold that ring, paid off my share of the rent, moved in with his best friend (platonically), and got a job as a hostess . . . where I met my hubby! Hmmmmmmm
When, in my mid-30's, my son was diagnosed with a life-threatening auto-immune disease . . . it was catastrophic. Everything changed. We cried. We struggled. And then . . . The Children's Dream Fund offered Miles a dream and that glimmer of positive became a brilliance indefinable. We grabbed a hold of that opportunity and turned the tides on the whole situation. We still went to treatment monthly and still got poked and got shots and sat in the cancer ward - yuck! But, we found a way to make things different. We started giving back. We worked with The Children's Dream Fund to help make other sick childrens' dreams come true. We found an incredible chance to make a positive difference and the disease took a back seat. We were not so consumed with test results and lab counts. And, it seemed that once we didn't pay so very much attention, like a big mean bully, that disease got bored of bothering us and went away.
Now, in my 40's, I have lost dear grandparents, my dad, a step-dad, an incredible father-in-law, a great-niece who we held the day she was born, an aunt and uncle on hubby's side, and my mom. That's a whole lot of loss to deal with. But God has graced me with a talent to honor them in prose. I don't know where it comes from other than to say it truly is Divine! It doesn't make losing people any easier, but what a positive impact to leave a tangible remembrance of how impactful these folks have been. Still there are tears, but as I read and re-read those poems, there are joyful tears and tears of laughter too.
The POWER of POSITIVE thinking. What a magically wonderful thing each of us possesses.
No matter what obstacles may stand in your way, it is YOUR choice to perceive them as large and looming, or perhaps, as learning and lessons. There are countless incidents of this in my life, so I will only name a few to connect to several genres.
At 17, my boyfriend of nearly three years left me stranded by a lake about 3 miles from my house after breaking up with me. He did not give me a reason for the break-up or the leaving me there. I was devastated. That first boyfriend really takes a toll on a young girl's heart. I cried for a long time as I sat at the edge of the lake. After a while, a rather furry bunny (one of my favorite critters) hopped nearly in my lap. He just nibbled on grass and hung out for a long time. I realized I had stopped crying and was totally engrossed in this oddity/blessing that God had put before me. I chose to see it as a positive sign. How often do bunnies just kind of hop up and hang out with you? I walked all the way home and never looked back. I made a few changes, cut my hair, joined and gym and . . . met a new boy. Hmmmmmmmmm.
At 21, that second boy moved me to Atlanta, Georgia from New York. After about six months, he slipped up and I found out he had been VERY unfaithful to me. I could have run away home, back to New York, but as I stared at the pre-engagement ring he had given me, I decided to turn this into a positive. I sold that ring, paid off my share of the rent, moved in with his best friend (platonically), and got a job as a hostess . . . where I met my hubby! Hmmmmmmm
When, in my mid-30's, my son was diagnosed with a life-threatening auto-immune disease . . . it was catastrophic. Everything changed. We cried. We struggled. And then . . . The Children's Dream Fund offered Miles a dream and that glimmer of positive became a brilliance indefinable. We grabbed a hold of that opportunity and turned the tides on the whole situation. We still went to treatment monthly and still got poked and got shots and sat in the cancer ward - yuck! But, we found a way to make things different. We started giving back. We worked with The Children's Dream Fund to help make other sick childrens' dreams come true. We found an incredible chance to make a positive difference and the disease took a back seat. We were not so consumed with test results and lab counts. And, it seemed that once we didn't pay so very much attention, like a big mean bully, that disease got bored of bothering us and went away.
Now, in my 40's, I have lost dear grandparents, my dad, a step-dad, an incredible father-in-law, a great-niece who we held the day she was born, an aunt and uncle on hubby's side, and my mom. That's a whole lot of loss to deal with. But God has graced me with a talent to honor them in prose. I don't know where it comes from other than to say it truly is Divine! It doesn't make losing people any easier, but what a positive impact to leave a tangible remembrance of how impactful these folks have been. Still there are tears, but as I read and re-read those poems, there are joyful tears and tears of laughter too.
The POWER of POSITIVE thinking. What a magically wonderful thing each of us possesses.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Stressed?
I find, most often, that when I get a little overly stressed, the best thing to do is to stop looking SO very hard at my problems and try to help someone else with theirs.
To reach beyond our own dilemmas and offer assistance to someone else, for whatever reason and in whatever manner, puts our issues in perspective. Paying for the few groceries of the person behind you at the grocery store, giving a few dollars toward the next car at the drive through, helping a neighbor with a project, or simply letting a stranger rant and rave of their troubles. When we give up trying to fix our issues and focus on helping someone else out with theirs, we tend to find the strength to help ourselves. Sometimes, when you're truly blessed, it is that stranger that offers you EXACTLY what YOU need to get through your troubles!
Many hands make light work and a giving heart produces many blessings!
Today, I wish you peace and strength, and the openness to look beyond yourself! There, you may find more of yourself than you ever imagined!
To reach beyond our own dilemmas and offer assistance to someone else, for whatever reason and in whatever manner, puts our issues in perspective. Paying for the few groceries of the person behind you at the grocery store, giving a few dollars toward the next car at the drive through, helping a neighbor with a project, or simply letting a stranger rant and rave of their troubles. When we give up trying to fix our issues and focus on helping someone else out with theirs, we tend to find the strength to help ourselves. Sometimes, when you're truly blessed, it is that stranger that offers you EXACTLY what YOU need to get through your troubles!
Many hands make light work and a giving heart produces many blessings!
Today, I wish you peace and strength, and the openness to look beyond yourself! There, you may find more of yourself than you ever imagined!
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Half Full?
Handicaps.
Sometimes it is apparent who has a handicap, right? That would be the person in the wheelchair, or with a walker, or perhaps the tell-tale signs of Downs Syndrome. Right?
I am not always so sure!
I am fairly certain that the folks with handicaps are the ones who treat those aforementioned folks differently. When we don't understand an inability, we tense; we change our tones, our actions, or even our speech. It is a majority of us "normal" folks that cannot comprehend "different".
Most every person that I have ever met with any sort of disability has a huge heart, a genuine sincerity, a deep-rooted joy, and an innate gift of simply accepting those who choose to take a moment to spend with them. I just watched a show about an autistic young man with an incredible photographic memory who has artwork hanging all over the world. THAT is not a handicap! During that same show a young man who had become paralized from the waist down decided to conquer Mt. Kilimanjaro in a self-designed wheelchair. THAT is not a handicap! Years ago I attended a function where a crowd of thousands was asked to put on their jackets with only one hand and then tie their shoes with only that same hand. He then introduced the Guest Speaker who had been shot and lost the use of one of his arms and explained that was his every morning. It was quite an eye-opening experience!
I think the "handicap" lies in not seeing the PERSON! Not seeing the abilities they have and the opportunities they offer. Most of us complain about traffic or crowds in the mall. If we were to change our viewpoint and see our days as "Half Full" or heck, how about sloshing over the top, what a difference we could make!
Have a "Half Full" kind of day!
Sometimes it is apparent who has a handicap, right? That would be the person in the wheelchair, or with a walker, or perhaps the tell-tale signs of Downs Syndrome. Right?
I am not always so sure!
I am fairly certain that the folks with handicaps are the ones who treat those aforementioned folks differently. When we don't understand an inability, we tense; we change our tones, our actions, or even our speech. It is a majority of us "normal" folks that cannot comprehend "different".
Most every person that I have ever met with any sort of disability has a huge heart, a genuine sincerity, a deep-rooted joy, and an innate gift of simply accepting those who choose to take a moment to spend with them. I just watched a show about an autistic young man with an incredible photographic memory who has artwork hanging all over the world. THAT is not a handicap! During that same show a young man who had become paralized from the waist down decided to conquer Mt. Kilimanjaro in a self-designed wheelchair. THAT is not a handicap! Years ago I attended a function where a crowd of thousands was asked to put on their jackets with only one hand and then tie their shoes with only that same hand. He then introduced the Guest Speaker who had been shot and lost the use of one of his arms and explained that was his every morning. It was quite an eye-opening experience!
I think the "handicap" lies in not seeing the PERSON! Not seeing the abilities they have and the opportunities they offer. Most of us complain about traffic or crowds in the mall. If we were to change our viewpoint and see our days as "Half Full" or heck, how about sloshing over the top, what a difference we could make!
Have a "Half Full" kind of day!
Monday, July 25, 2011
In The Quiet
In the quiet of the morning, there is a serenity to the chirping birds. The hint of a new beginning; a new day. The sun softly reminds us that new adventures await and there is much to be done.
Yesterday, after a roaring boat ride to the Dunedin Reef, we anchored to fish. In the quiet of the rolling waves, there was a peace and serenity that comes with simply communing with nature. Enough quite to hear the rise and splash of a rather large orange sea turtle. To don those polarized shades and watch an entire school of fish swiftly flit about beneath the boat as one entity. Such incredible beauty in the quiet.
To come home, all fried and crispy, and slip into a very inviting pool . . . ahhhhh! You can almost see the steam rise from your body and just about hear the sizzle. And then to simply float in that serenity. Such sweet calm . . . in the quiet.
To feed the masses and have the house full of chatter and laughter; intruding upon that quiet and yet, filling the air with such delicious strains of happiness. It just makes my heart sing.
And again, at day's end, the edge of night threatening to slip its cloak upon us once again; the quiet seeps in and takes holds. It is not heavy. It is not scary. It is embraced and enjoyed as it envelopes us and delivers us to yet another new day!
Enjoy your quiet!
Yesterday, after a roaring boat ride to the Dunedin Reef, we anchored to fish. In the quiet of the rolling waves, there was a peace and serenity that comes with simply communing with nature. Enough quite to hear the rise and splash of a rather large orange sea turtle. To don those polarized shades and watch an entire school of fish swiftly flit about beneath the boat as one entity. Such incredible beauty in the quiet.
To come home, all fried and crispy, and slip into a very inviting pool . . . ahhhhh! You can almost see the steam rise from your body and just about hear the sizzle. And then to simply float in that serenity. Such sweet calm . . . in the quiet.
To feed the masses and have the house full of chatter and laughter; intruding upon that quiet and yet, filling the air with such delicious strains of happiness. It just makes my heart sing.
And again, at day's end, the edge of night threatening to slip its cloak upon us once again; the quiet seeps in and takes holds. It is not heavy. It is not scary. It is embraced and enjoyed as it envelopes us and delivers us to yet another new day!
Enjoy your quiet!
Saturday, July 23, 2011
A Billy Bots Moment
My grandfather's name was William Botsakos. In his "prime," among many other job titles, he was a professional boxer and I have been told his ring persona was "Billy Bots." When we were young, now remember there were five of us and then two more, "Billy Bots" would lift us up, one on each bicep and carry us across the living room. If we were willing, he taught us how to box. I think that his approach was sometimes underhanded, like standing on your opponent's toes or using the elbow as an "after" thought or follow-through, but what he truly tried to convey was . . . to never quit! He instilled that spirit in my mom, who ~ with his assistance ~ instilled it in each of us! As the only girl with six brothers, life was not always princess parties and frilly dresses. In fact, I was happier playing football and getting dirty with the guys. Some things never change! LOL
I have had a myriad of "Billy Bots Moments" in my life. One of my favorites would be . . .
Having been told by my step-dad that I'd never be a good dancer for one reason or another; and that I didn't really have enough talent as a gymnast, I could have become depressed. Instead, I took him up on his offer to teach us golf. We all started with a single club that, with the use of a quarter, could be altered to become any iron and a putter. For years, we wandered around golf courses Mulligan-ing ourselves silly. When I was finally old enough to hit the links by myself, I tried different stances, grips, swings, etc.
When we were blessed to join Wiltwyck, a beautiful private club in Kingston, New York, my game really picked up. I continued to work on techniques on my own. I was also continually told that golf was not a girl's game and why didn't I pick a sport for girls. (The LPGA was only in its infancy.) Having heard enough of that nonsense, I had a "Billy Bots Moment"! I decided I would start a girl's league at Wiltwyck. After inquiring, and receiving a minor setback, I was told there simply were not enough girls interested.
OK . . . so how do I get on the boy's team?
What? There was much mayhem. Can this be? What do we do? Special rules? Favoritism?
Heck No!!!
I followed the same rules as any boy out there. Could only challenge one to two spaces above me and had to play from the men's tees. Well, "they" were certain I would get beat early and lose interest. Um . . . not Billy Bots' granddaughter! I played my way through the entire B team in less than a summer and actually made my way through a good portion of the A team. I travelled with the boys to other clubs and played. I actually caused enough commotion that a girl's team was started and flourished in the year's to come. My best score, from the MEN's tees at Wiltwyck, was an 80. That's not too shabby for a 15 year-old untalented gymnast who'd never make a good dancer.
I would say that's a "Billy Bots Knockout"!
I have had a myriad of "Billy Bots Moments" in my life. One of my favorites would be . . .
Having been told by my step-dad that I'd never be a good dancer for one reason or another; and that I didn't really have enough talent as a gymnast, I could have become depressed. Instead, I took him up on his offer to teach us golf. We all started with a single club that, with the use of a quarter, could be altered to become any iron and a putter. For years, we wandered around golf courses Mulligan-ing ourselves silly. When I was finally old enough to hit the links by myself, I tried different stances, grips, swings, etc.
When we were blessed to join Wiltwyck, a beautiful private club in Kingston, New York, my game really picked up. I continued to work on techniques on my own. I was also continually told that golf was not a girl's game and why didn't I pick a sport for girls. (The LPGA was only in its infancy.) Having heard enough of that nonsense, I had a "Billy Bots Moment"! I decided I would start a girl's league at Wiltwyck. After inquiring, and receiving a minor setback, I was told there simply were not enough girls interested.
OK . . . so how do I get on the boy's team?
What? There was much mayhem. Can this be? What do we do? Special rules? Favoritism?
Heck No!!!
I followed the same rules as any boy out there. Could only challenge one to two spaces above me and had to play from the men's tees. Well, "they" were certain I would get beat early and lose interest. Um . . . not Billy Bots' granddaughter! I played my way through the entire B team in less than a summer and actually made my way through a good portion of the A team. I travelled with the boys to other clubs and played. I actually caused enough commotion that a girl's team was started and flourished in the year's to come. My best score, from the MEN's tees at Wiltwyck, was an 80. That's not too shabby for a 15 year-old untalented gymnast who'd never make a good dancer.
I would say that's a "Billy Bots Knockout"!
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