Exercise... Can we say "Ewww"?

I walk a mile most mornings. Yup, three laps around our pond, making certain to take all of the ins and outs of the pond's shape. I probably COULD do more laps and I probably SHOULD, but... How do I put this? It bores the shit out of me!

In my art studio, I have one of those Total Gyms. Great piece of machinery. A person can exercise almost any part of the body. I look at it several times a day and think "why?"

Face it folks. Exercising by oneself is boring as hell. I sit on the Total Gym sometimes, responsibly doing my leg presses and think of all of the things that I could be doing that are far more interesting... Like watching concrete set or cleaning the toilet.

I danced on and off, ballet, jazz, lyrical, from the time I was four until I blew my knees when I was thirty-five. When I was in my 20's, I was a personal trainer at a gym. I KNOW what I should be doing.

I'm one of those people who really needs to have a work-out partner. It's even better if I don't LIKE that partner... "Ha! That bitch did 25 reps. Watch this people, I'm gonna do FIFTY!". Yea, that's me! I'm bad!

So, it seems that actually GOING to the gym would be the solution. Nope. Do you realize just how many excuses I can invent for simply not getting into my car? And then I think about the fact that I have to PAY someone for the information that resides in my tiny little brain each time I encounter THEIR personal trainers. Ugh!

Let me tell ya, honey... There is nothing "Golden" about this era of my life. The muscles are atrophying at an alarming rate and I don't believe my body HAS a metabolism any more. Yup, that baby's gone! I eat fairly healthy foods (fried foods and greasy snacks make me ill), mostly of the vegetable persuasion and I limit my chocoholic tendencies to 2 or 3 individually wrapped pieces per day. Hell... sin of sins... I've even begun limiting my Margaritas. What's wrong with this picture?

Do you ever feel like sending threatening letters to Madonna and Cher?... "Look, you sluts, gain weight, turn grey, and start sagging like the rest of the female population or I will bomb your aesthetician's practice." Those magazine pics damn well better be airbrushed or I give up!

So I walk my petty mile each morning and glare at my exercise videos and Total Gym in accusation (shouldn't they work simply because I OWN them?), then sit my ass down to read my twelfth book of the week or post something new in here... ANYthing to avoid that dreaded word, "exercise".

Anyway, here's a little humor (from one of my favorite e-mails) to take you through your day:

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A WOMAN'S WEEK AT THE GYM

Dear Diary,

For my birthday this year, my daughter (the dear) purchased a week of personal training at the local health club for me. Although I am still in great shape since being a high school football cheerleader 43 years ago, I decided it would be a good idea to go ahead and give it a try. I called the club and made my reservations with a personal trainer named Belinda, who identified herself as a 26-year-old aerobics instructor and model for athletic clothing and swim wear. My daughter seemed pleased with my enthusiasm to get started! The club encouraged me to keep a diary to chart my progress.

________________________________

MONDAY:

Started my day at 6:00 a.m. Tough to get out of bed, but found it was well worth it when I arrived at the health club to find Belinda waiting for me. She is something of a Greek goddess - with blond hair, dancing eyes and a dazzling white smile. Woo Hoo!! Belinda gave me a tour and showed me the machines. I enjoyed watching the skillful way in which she conducted her aerobics class after my workout today. Very inspiring! Belinda was encouraging as I did my sit-ups, although my gut was already aching from holding it in the whole time she was around. This is going to be a FANTASTIC week-!!

________________________________

TUESDAY:

I drank a whole pot of coffee, but I finally made it out the door. Belinda made me lie on my back and push a heavy iron bar into the air then she put weights on it! My legs were a little wobbly on the treadmill, but I made the full mile. Belinda's rewarding smile made it all worthwhile. I feel GREAT-!! It's a whole new life for me.

_______________________________

WEDNESDAY:

The only way I can brush my teeth is by laying the toothbrush on the counter and moving my mouth back and forth over it. I believe I have a hernia in both pectorals. Driving was OK as long as I didn't try to steer or stop. I parked on top of a GEO in the club parking lot. Belinda was impatient with me, insisting that my screams bothered other club members. Her voice is a little too perky for that early in the morning and when she scolds, she gets this nasally whine that is VERY annoying. My chest hurt when I got on the treadmill, so Belinda put me on the stair monster. Why the hell would anyone invent a machine to simulate an activity rendered obsolete by elevators? Belinda told me it would help me get in shape and enjoy life. She said some other shit too.

_______________________________

THURSDAY:

Belinda was waiting for me with her vampire-like teeth exposed as her thin, cruel lips were pulled back in a full snarl. I couldn't help being a half an hour late - it took me that long to tie my shoes. Belinda took me to work out with dumbbells. When she was not looking, I ran and hid in the restroom. She sent another skinny bitch to find me. Then, as punishment, she put me on the rowing machine -- which I sank.

_________ _ _____________________

FRIDAY:

I hate that bitch Belinda more than any human being has ever hated any other human being in the history of the world. Stupid, skinny, anemic, anorexic little cheerleader. If there was a part of my body I could move without unbearable pain, I would beat her with it. Belinda wanted me to work on my triceps. I don't have any triceps! And if you don't want dents in the floor, don't hand me the damn barbells or anything that weighs more than a sandwich. The treadmill flung me off and I landed on a health and nutrition teacher. Why couldn't it have been someone softer, like the drama coach or the choir director?

________________________________

SATURDAY:

Belinda left a message on my answering machine in her grating, shrilly voice wondering why I did not show up today. Just hearing her voice made me want to smash the machine with my planner; however, I lacked the strength to even use the TV remote and ended up catching eleven straight hours of the Weather Channel.

________________________________

SUNDAY:

I'm having the Church van pick me up for services today so I can go and thank GOD that this week is over. I will also pray that next year my daughter (the little shit) will choose a gift for me that is fun -- like a root canal or a hysterectomy. I still say if God had wanted me to bend over, he would have sprinkled the floor with diamonds!!!

Dell... Hell!

I've loved personal computers since they first came on the scene. My first experience with anything of the sort was a keyboard that was hooked to a monitor. You could type in something like 350 lines of code and produce a picture of Alfred E. Neuman. How funny is that?

My first PC was an IBM clone. When that finally blew, I was able to afford a Gateway. Loved it and the tech support was phenomenal. When they started the downhill slide, I turned to Dell.

I've had five Dells, three still working. I could probably get the PC back up if I wanted to fool with it, but decided on a laptop instead. My daughter still has that laptop, given to her when I upgraded to the one I have now. My oldest son has the first Dell I gave my youngest, given to him when the youngest upgraded (he was in school as a computer science major, so had to have the higher capabilities).

This last laptop is the one at issue now. Like I mentioned, my youngest was a computer science major, which translates into needing the biggest, baddest computer we could afford. It ended up costing us $3400 AFTER corporate discounts (perhaps not a huge amount of money to some of you, but a ton to me!). He'd had it just a little over a year (past warranty as usual) when the graphics card died.

You'd think that this would be a minor matter of calling Dell and ordering a replacement, wouldn't you? Nope. We called and ordered it. A few days later, nothing, so my son contacted Dell via live chat. There was a problem and the order had been canceled (I guess they couldn't be bothered to notify us of that, eh?).

I got on the phone at that point and worked my way through a bunch of Indians (not a racist remark!) with really strong accents (note: I'm hard of hearing!)... Obviously, their scripts had no protocol for this scenario... to an American in tech support and, again, supposedly the part was on its way... Nope, nothing. Big surprise.

Then I started getting the e-mails and phone calls (I got so tired of telling them I was hard of hearing!) wanting to resolve the matter. They wanted us to SEND them the computer so that they could repair it (at a healthy charge). Both of my sons could replace the part with one hand, so WHY would I do that???

In response, I sent them this e-mail:

We actually WERE connected with tech support and supposedly a part was ordered. The tech said that he was putting in a special request for the part and would notify us within 48 hours. The tech was also supposed to e-mail detailed instructions for changing out the part. Your e-mail, however, is the first response that we’ve gotten since that day.

This situation began before the conversation that you mention in your e-mail. My son had called and ordered the graphics board, but never received a confirmation e-mail. Two days later, he made contact again via live chat and was told that the order had been cancelled, that his $3400 computer was irreparable.

We own FIVE Dell systems, a PC and four laptops. We’ve recommended Dell to more than twenty people, some in business situations. I will no longer be praising Dell and will more than likely look to another brand in the future. I will also suggest to my friends in the corporate world that they not purchase Dell.

This had been an absurd situation from the beginning. I am completely disappointed in what was once a fine company who put quality products and customer service as a priority. Someone has dropped the ball in this situation. Please get my son the part he needs to repair his computer so at least we can get a few more dollars worth out of an expensive machine.

Thank you

So, what do you think happened next? More e-mails/phone calls from individuals I couldn't understand as well as an attempt on their part to get me to order a graphics card for a PC... Even I know a part labeled PCI is NOT for a laptop!

Next, they wanted us to send them the computer and give us a 20% discount on the repair. They sent me the following e-mail (note the grammar!):

I am really sorry for this situation that you are in, as this system is out of warranty, systems at technical department won’t allow us to issues replacements for graphics card that you are looking for. We are at customer care and we can issue replacements in first 30 days.

Since then, I've gotten a few more e-mails telling ME to call tech support and order the part. Isn't that kind of going back to step ONE??? Now, they simply ignore my inquiries.

The end result is that we now have a $3400 laptop relegated to a back closet and my son got an HP PC for his birthday.

So, if you're looking into buying a computer, DO NOT BUY DELL!!!

STDs and the Older Generation

I was told about this article in the news and just HAD to check it out. It's a thing that most of us never consider, Grandma and Grandpa getting laid... Ewwwwwwww! Right? LOL Not!

I'm a member of that rather grey area that used to be called over-the-hill and is now called the "new 30s"... or is it 40s???... Hell, I don't know. The point is that sex is still a part of the lives of myself and everyone I know (yea, we girls seriously TALK about you men out there, so beware! Mwahahahahaha).

This article is one of many I Googled that discusses the alarming rise of STDs in those 45 and older. Most of the publications cite the cause as the rise in middle age divorce and the ease of online dating (my daughter states unequivocally that the internet is evil. I guess this is an instance in which it might possibly be true). Another reason given is the creation of Viagra and other solutions for ED.

The truly disturbing reason given is ignorance, that no one is discussing these issues with older individuals. Come on! My mother seriously believed that a person got pregnant by French kissing!!! Just because our seniors have done it all that doesn't mean that they necessarily know the hows and whys of everything.

So, read this article or others like it. Then buy your Grandma or Grandpa a copy of "Sex for Dummies" or an "Idiots Guide" or something of that ilk (ignoring the humiliating titles). Give them a chance to SAFELY enjoy the hell out of their later years. Aren't we all happier when we getting laid???

http://www.time.com/time/health/article/0,8599,1819633,00.html

Breathe In, Breathe Out, Move On...

"According to my watch the time is now,
The past is dead and gone.
Don't try to shake it, just nod your head.
Breathe in, breathe out, move on...
Don't try to explain it, just bow your head.
Breathe in, breathe out, move on."

Jimmy Buffett



Buffett wrote that song about Hurricane Katrina, but every time the shit hits the fan or things are looking down, I try to keep those words in mind. They hold. The past is finished. Hopefully something has been learned. The future is undetermined. There is only so much we can do in preparation. What is important is the now, this tiny moment in time. So, what are you going to do with it?

You know, I actually own a watch like the one mentioned in this song? LOL Yup. Bought it from "Signals" a few years back. In place of the mechanism is a bit of sand and a small stone that has the word "NOW" written on it. I bought it because of my belief in the Tao principals.

Living in the "Now" sounds like an easy thing to do, right? Wrong. It's probably one of the most difficult. We're all too good at the "woulda, coulda, shoulda" game. And it's REALLY hard when things aren't going the way we'd like. So, what can we do?

A game plan for the future, near or distant, is always a good thing. But how
about creating one for this very second of time? If things aren't so great right this instant, is it possible to find some tiny bit that is good? I believe our sanity depends on it.

Walk outside and take a look around... Wow! Look at what we've got! Look at the clouds, moon, sun and stars. Check out the diversity of flora and fauna. The processes of the green world are what allow us to have the air we need to live. How cool is that?

The world around us is an awesome thing, but so is that world inside each of us. Regardless of any similarities, we are all entirely unique. Our minds race and our emotions flow as our hearts beat and we breathe...

Inhale, exhale, inhale...

Sitting in the midst of a garden or perhaps on the edge of the water... Maybe even among a crowd of people.

Exhale, Inhale, exhale...

Infinite molecules moving at a set pace create everything that we see, everything that we are. Energy defines us all.

Turn inward and outward at the same time and stretch out your hands. Let the energy flow.

Inhale, exhale, inhale...

We are part of everything and everything is a part of us, each a vital piece of an amazing machine. The past has shaped our world just as it has shaped us. The future is an uncertainty. The only thing guaranteed is now.

The idea of control is absurd. All we can control is our own minds and actions. Even love flows where it will.

Stretch out your senses. Let go.

Exhale, inhale, exhale..
Tune out the sounds around you and simply be. All that matters is the breath. Release everything else.

You are beautiful for the simple reason that you exist. That is enough.

It is time to merely breathe in, breathe out, embrace the now, then move on.

Namaste.

The Three R's for the Earth

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle... How hard is that? Why are so many people resistent to the concept? And amidst all of this "awareness", just WHY are companies using so much more packaging for their products? I'm afraid I don't understand.

When I was young, I remember saving the plastic bags from bread and our used aluminum foil, washing them, then using them again. For us, it was a matter of economics. Not very sanitary, but a decent thought process. But today, we immediately throw everything away... And I do mean EVERYTHING.

Don't wear that shirt anymore? Into the garbage it goes. Tired of that worn-out chair? To hell with recovering it or donating it. Just push it to the curb as trash.

Go buy a part for your computer or a pack of cheese slices. Before you can use either, you must first unwrap... and unwrap... and unwrap. Ridiculous! And we never think twice about it! We've become a disposable society. How sad.

I have friends who find the idea of recycling exhausting. How can that be? We're provided with both a garbage container and a smaller one for those things that can be processed and remade. Put the nasties in one and the bottles, cans, and paper in the other. This is difficult, why? The trucks make runs and pick up the recyclables... We don't have to do a thing! Even members of my own family sometimes have a problem doing this although I have containers for recycling all over our home and property. I don't get it.

One thing I've seen a change in is that whenever I place an order online, it typically comes with these little inflated bags to protect the items from moving around during shipping. A huge improvement from the styrofoam "peanuts" that have been used in the past. Still, I'd rather see shipping houses make an arrangement with publishing houses to reuse outdated magazines and newspapers for that task. It's an change for the better nonetheless.

How about all of the crap that we buy on impulse that just sits until we throw it away? How about the excess in food we produce or buy that gets tossed? Hell, what's with that huge stack of napkins we just HAVE to get when we buy our Quarter Pounder??? Those are things we need to reduce as well.

We are so wasteful that it's pathetic. What's really sad is that we don't even notice. Why? The Industrial Revolution brought so much good to our lives, but it also brought apathy, indolence, and indulgence. Once things became more easily attained, we ceased to value them as much. What a shame.

In past generations, it was a source of pride that a parent could pass on to their child things that have "been in the family". Now, we all want the newest and fanciest... Case in point: computers and cell phones. There's a current article online about what we should repair and what we should simply replace. Guess what? Almost everything falls into the "replace" category. I remember calling repairmen for our tv or washer and taking appliances in to be fixed. Wonder what those guys are doing now?

Don't you just hate the newest trend in packaging store products... I don't even know what it's called... that plastic that requires superhero scissors and good medical insurance just to open? You know what I mean. What's with that? What happened to simply putting things in a cardboard box? Hell, forego even that and just shrinkwrap the sucker! Yea, I get that it helps discourage shoplifters... But, guys, get real. If people want to lift something, they'll find a way no matter what you do. We're talking about our PLANET here and we've only got the one!

Okay, here's an embarassing thing to admit... My own kids are clueless when it comes to mending a lot of things. I tried to teach them. Really I did! But our society deems that it's quite all right just to throw things away. Peer pressure still rules. Doesn't that well and truly suck?

After Katrina, the first and foremost donation that rolled in... then overcame in mountainous proportions... was clothes. It's a great thing to donate, but how in the HELL did we end up with so much in our closets? I understand changing sizes. I do that more and more as I age. I also understand trends in fashions, but being the hippy that I am that really doesn't affect me. And I'm probably guilty of having way more in my closet than I need. But the vast majority of our population can put me to shame in the wardrobe department. Let's not even discuss shoes! LOL Not mine! Just some ladies I love dearly.

So, maybe I've made you at least stop and think. That's a step in the right direction. We need to become more aware of what we use in our everyday lives.

Make or hire someone to make slipcovers. Refinish things in interesting new ways. Buy less and support those companies that embrace more efficient packaging. Donate what you no longer want. Most of all, use those damned recycling bins you've been provided with... PLEASE?

Mother Earth thanks you!

Rituals of Being Me...

Life has become chaotic. There's no doubt of that. And, in all of our hurrying and scurrying about, we create shortcuts. It's a given. I believe that the time has come for us to step outside of the rat race and seriously examine those minute details of life that we've shunted aside, because we're beginning to lose important parts of ourselves as a whole.

No longer do we gaze in wonder at the world around us. Our children are raised in a succession of day care personnel, teachers, baby-sitters, and various family members (it's unavoidable due to the fact that a single income household that can thrive today is a rarity). Special events lose their magnitude in the mad rush. But there IS one small thing we can reinstate in our lives... our personal rituals.

A ritual can be something all-encompassing... the family dining together at the end of the day or a tradition, such as how we celebrate a major holiday. But a ritual can also be some small little thing that allows us to smile, to breathe, to embrace just a few minutes of contentment... It can be the perfect coffee cup that fills a hand just so. It can be the aroma of a favored meal. It can be a well-worn sweater. A ritual doesn't have to be time-consuming or intense. It's importance can exist in its simplicity.

Imagine, after a long day, enjoying a glass of wine... nothing expensive, just a light refreshing taste that rolls around the tongue. BUT just think of pouring that wine into a glass perfectly crafted to fit your own senses... the perfect color that makes you happy, thin enough that it rings when you rim it with your finger but strong enough that its fragility doesn't create any stress. Now picture it with a stem that slides justso between your fingers and balances perfectly in your hand. You sit in a favorite spot and linger amidst the environment you've chosen. This has taken a simple glass of wine into the realm of ritual and it soothes.

I have this sweater... God only knows how old it is... It's worn and ragged and stretched to alarming proportions, but when I'm ill or feeling blue, I can put it on and it becomes a never-ending embrace. It moves me to complete my "down day" with a light-weight book and perhaps a bowl of soup and encourages me to be kinder to myself.

I have another shirt that makes me feel down-right sassy when I'm feeling particularly unattractive. Note: I'm over-the-hill and overweight. But when I wear it, I can pretend I'm something special. Feeling immediately better, I then apply a bit of makeup and fix my hair... Et voila... I really DO look a little more attractive!

Having dealt with these two articles of clothing over and over in the same situations with the same results has made the wearing of them at those specific times another ritual of mine.

Here's one... The perfect coffee cup. Imagine waking up in the morning and fixing your favorite coffee (if you don't have a favorite, search for one asap! It's the stuff that makes mornings bearable.). As it brews, the fragrance fills the room. Pour it into the perfect cup... one that's wide at the lip so the fragrance is a continuous bombardment... short so there's little worry of tipping it... and rounded so that it fits firmly into the palms of your hands as you clasp it for that first sip, embracing its warmth... Ahhhhhhhhh.

Taking something that's an everyday occurence and turning it into something special doesn't require a lot of time, but it can so easily create a tiny moment in which we have a better outlook on ourselves and our lives.

It's amazing how much difference can be found in simply making the bed in the morning before you leave. Even if the rest of the room is a mess, there's this quiet neat little space that says welcome home at the end of the day... Okay, the bed is made, now how about leaving a chocolate (not a good idea if you have pets!) or a flower on the pillow only for you? Or, take it a step further and perhaps spray your pillowcases with a favorite scent. Imagine the haven you've created with just one or two extra steps... Now, that is a ritual to feed the soul!

This is one that is so much a part of me that if interrupted carries a penalty of extreme torture to the miscreant... I wake up at daybreak most mornings (yea, I know... Ugh!). The coffee is started while I boot my computer. I fix my cup (see above), then leisurely go through my e-mails and read the news online as I sip my morning drink. Okay, I admit it, sometimes I cheat and have an iced mocha latte instead. LOL Same diff. The point is that I absolutely HATE it when anyone interrupts this chain of events and I remain cranky for the better part of the morning. Don't mess with my rituals!

How about buying fresh cut flowers for yourself? Why wait for someone else to think of it? You deserve them, right? And, guys, you can enjoy flowers as well... It's a thing not limited by gender (I almost said "sex"... Woohoo!). Pick a certain day of the week and make that your flower day. Bring the blooms home and arrange them in a funky glass or a classic vase. Put them in an important space. Then as you meander through the room where they are, you can realize that you ARE special and smile.

In the past few years, I've discovered a rather cool little trick... Whenever I go to buy something for our home, I try to create a "circumstance" around it. This causes said purchase to become something of a souvenir rather than just a piece of furniture or plates or a new knick-knack. I get a friend to go with me or meet me for lunch or, maybe prior to the purchase, e-mail pics back and forth and share opinions with a long-distance friend. Then, whenever I look at my purchase, I remember that experience and it makes that item so much more than what it is.

Another thing I've been doing is getting rid of the excess in my life (de-shitting, to quote a friend) on a weekly basis by assigning myself one drawer or a couple of shelves in a closet or whatever and organizing so that looking for things becomes a pleasure instead of a trial. Home becomes sanctuary rather than tedium. An embarassment becomes something calming and a source of pride, a ritual of cleansing.

So, how else can we create those precious little moments for ourselves without a huge investment of either time or money? How do we make the commonplace things and events in our lives into instances that cause us to sigh or smile? How can we pamper ourselves with simplicity for a minute or a week... as a seasonal expedition or a daily routine... We need to grasp those little details that make us enjoy who we are. We deserve it!

So, sometime today, have a chocolate on me... Well, not LITERALLY!

Lessons from Elly

I have a wonderful, beautiful friend (of course, all of my friends are wonderful and beautiful!) named Elly... She’s dying.

Yea, I’ve got the pilosophical debate downpat... We’re all dying, it’s a state we move closer to each day from the moment we’re born. Or the next one, "Hey, the world could end tomorrow"... Or even "I could get run over by a greyhound bus the next time I cross the street" (although that one would be tricky considering where I live!)... All of those are valid. I get that. But Elly has a definite timeline... Her cancer has metastasized and is now in at least three areas of her body. She’s a decade younger than me and she’s dying.

This woman has seen the other side of hell from a very early period of her life and she’s survived with integrity and grit. With the first stroke of cancer, she lost her eye, but not her heart. She’s been through nineteen chemos... NINETEEN!!!... and she still moves forward with all of the love and compassion that anyone could ever possess.

As any of you know who have either had a serious condition or have known someone who has, there are days when that person BECOMES the disease... That’s all they are. I know it well. And, yes, sometimes Elly has days like that.

Sometimes she’s so angry that she doesn’t know what to do with it all. I’d be mad as hell and doubt I could ever stop raging. I’d be stomping my feet and screaming at the top of my lungs "It isn’t fair!!!".

And sometimes she cries...

She dreams of the grandchildren that have yet to come while she holds close those already born. She fears for the family, friends, and awesome husband she’ll leave behind. She doesn’t have a lot when it comes to material things, but she cherishes every tiny part of what she does have.

But, above all... She does NOT want to go!

When you look at her and speak to her... Wow! She has a smile that can light up a room and it flashes so easily. This does NOT look like our concept of someone at death’s door. It isn’t that she’s in denial of any sort. To paraphrase her, I’m not dead yet! And that’s how she lives... Not belly up and whining, but with passion and hope and love.

How many of us belly-up (not to the bar!) at the least hardship or complain that others can’t understand. True, no one can understand ANYTHING that another is going through, even if we’ve been in the same situation for the simple fact that we are not that other person. We can’t see through another’s eyes or heart or soul.

But, Elly... God, I wish you all could meet her. She will teach you what it means to fight for your life!

Thank you, Elly, for reminding me to count the things I have rather than complain about what I don’t have... to feel my strength rather than my limitations... to strive for beauty in a world that sometimes isn’t so lovely. But, most of all, Elly, thank you for coming into my life!

The Beach

Wow... How can I describe this thing that is so much of what I am?

Recently, a friend sent me the following poem and I immediately thought "yea, that's what the beach is to me".

Water’s Edge by Rose Limongi

My body collapses where land and ocean meet,

My hot toes dig into the cool damp sand,

Burrowing in the granules of time in search of comfort.

The golden orb glides into the horizon, hues of orange and purple trumpeting the departure

My arms wrap tightly around my warm, pink skin

It is here at water's edge that I long to become reacquainted with myself - body, mind and soul

The blue green waves nip at my ankles, inching ever higher

Like a playful pup they come back again and again

Each wave contains the deepest secrets of ocean life

My mind ponders the meaning of life at water's edge

It is here that I solve the problems of the world

It is here that I grieve - my salty tears spilling into the saltier water - forming a perfect union

It is here - at water's edge - that I come to terms with myself honestly - strengths and weaknesses

My toes sink further down, the water trenching out my feet without mercy

I don't mind - for there is always more than enough sand to share

The faint smell of fish and seaweed linger in my nostrils

Rather than repulse, I draw deeply in - savoring the scent of peace that comes with them

The occasional plump sea gull swoops down in search of a meal

Only to be robbed by the pelican who is coming in lower and smoother

Like a dance they continue to scour the ocean surface for a delicacy

At water's edge the dead give up their secrets

Trinkets, and remnants, jewels and death all visit - indiscriminately

Cold, dead jellyfish whose sting knows no end

Is positioned next to the perfect sea shell with mother of pearl coloring

Parts of larger sea life wash ashore - anonymously so

Yet a closer inspection tells quite a tale of brave battle and noble death

As the sun gently kisses the sky goodnight, a chill begins to envelop me

A light gray-white mist rises from the water to lull all to slumber

The still warm water is beckoned home for the night

There is something about the water's edge that pulls me ever nearer

The endless possibilities - for no two visits are ever the same

Familiar yes, but each one has it's own signature - like the waves when they reach the shore

At water's edge I find myself again,

I am reminded of the awesome majesty of mother nature

Each wave coming from a far, exotic land where another pair of feet dig toes into the sand.

Then I thought some more (dangerous occupation, I know) and realized... These words have such a sad timbre and that isn't what I feel there. It's something intangible. Whenever I try to tie it down, it simply slips away.

The beach feeds me. I don't know how else to put it. It's like the eternal Mother, drawing me to her breast and lending me an excitement that carries me on and through. It constantly changes. From one second to the next, its shape and texture are redefined. The rhythm of the waves is heartbeat and breath. The water and the shore are the circle of life. These are eternal.

Think about parking and getting out of the car. First, there's the walk through the soft, loose sand. It envelopes us as we stride forward. It gives, yet forces us to strain towards our goal. It can be cool, warm, hot as hell, but it is never cold or indifferent. It conforms to our passing, yet it takes strength to move through. And, regardless of how careful we are, a bit of it travels with us even when we leave.

We get to the edge of the tide. This is where we have to be careful. It seems strong, ungiving. It feels like we can plant our feet there and stretch up to the sky. Then the tiniest bit of wave barely kisses our feet and that hard, packed sand simply washes away. We stumble.

The water catches us. If it's a quiet summer day, we are engulfed in its liquid warmth, not unlike the womb. If it's spring, fall, or (God forbid) winter, we are shocked into action. Should it be a windy day, we are knocked about and can choose either to fight it or go with the flow and have some fun.

But my favorite beach days are the stormy ones. Not the ones full of lightning overhead... I'm not stupid! LOL Rather the ones where the clouds scuttle across the sky, racing the wind in their angry progression... The waves heave ever forward with their furious white foam... The grasses thrash, almost pulled from the ground by the power of Nature. The darkness of the day creates a curious intensity of color. Those days fill me from within, without, seeping into every pore of my being. An indefinable excitement fills me to the point that I feel I can run so fast I almost fly. I want to laugh and shout with the wind that tangles my hair and rips at my clothes. It's incredible!

As I stand on the edge of the water’s caress, when I feel its power and stand in awe, it is so easy to seem insignificant. Then I realize, even the tiniest grain of sand has a purpose here. The sand, the water, the wind, the sky, the fish, the birds, all of Nature and me… we’re all parts of the same whole. How awesome is that?

When I was a teenager, we didn't have much. In fact, I grew up quite poor. A wonderful thing that happened was when someone gave my older brother a 3-speed bike. I immediately claimed it. That bought my freedom.

There was a particular part of the beach where we all hung out. It was about 8 miles from the house where I grew up. From the time I was about 15, every chance I got I would hop on that bike and ride for all I was worth to the beach. If it was the weekend, I'd spend the day hanging out with friends. But my soul depended on (at the very least) seeing the sun set.

There is simply something so wondrous, so indelible, so intangible about the sunset. You don't have to be a poet or artist to see it. It's impossible to capture that power, the evolution of brilliant changing color until that single moment suspended in time when at last the sun is swallowed by the water. Sometimes I think that if we could truly grasp that and hold it forever that everything in our lives would be all right.

Now, I live quite a bit north of the beach front, but that's okay. I know it's there, waiting for me. Sometimes when I have errands to run, I make certain that my path takes me down along the beach. To simply SEE it can be enough to help me breathe again. Every now and then, I actually stop and take a short walk, even if I'm in a hurry. I need it. Then I can leave whatever I can't carry right there at the water's edge. Or I can inhale its essence and find that special joy. I never walk away unaffected.

But when I can, I go down there with no special purpose in mind and I walk... and listen... and take it all in. It's so important to truly SEE what's around us. To remember.

All of this is very philosophical, but sometimes the beach simply IS. It doesn't require any explanation or validation. It's there. It's good.

So I leave this posting with one of my favorite quotes:

"Going barefoot is the gentlest way of walking and can symbolize a way of living — being authentic, vulnerable, sensitive to our surroundings. It's the feeling of enjoying warm sand beneath our toes, or carefully making our way over sharp rocks in the darkness. It's a way of living that has the lightest impact, removing the barrier between us and nature." — Adele Coombs, "Barefoot Dreaming"

Take off your shoes, wiggle your toes, and enjoy!

Love, Friendship, and All of That Messy Stuff

It's funny to me that when we talk about love, we always relate it to fire. Why is that? Think about the four elements... earth, air, fire, water.

Should we relate it to air, it becomes something ethereal, intangible, which it is. Air is a thing one cannot hold or touch, yet it caresses us in its passing. It can be weak or strong, cool or hot. Yet it is life and breath. It is the soft caress, the glance that is here then gone. It is uncontrollable. Sounds a bit like love, eh?

Then there's water. We cannot survive without water, even if we have air. Scientifically, it is the largest part of what we are. Philosophers throughout the ages have pondered the influence that it has on us in relation to the earth and moon. It ebbs and flows, can nurture, crush, and even destroy. It is the excited babble of voices, the tickle of laughter, the rush and swell of emotion. Sounds a lot like love as well.

We choose fire. Why? Fire is powerful and entrancing, yes. But it needs to be constantly fed or it dies. It consumes completely, leaving nothing but ash in its wake. While it burns, it is a thing of beauty and we are drawn to it... like love. It can warm us in the coldest nights, light our way through the dark... But if not contained, it destroys. Don't believe I want that kind of love!

I think I would choose love as earth. Earth is strength. It is home. It is the constant in our lives. We can ignore it, still it endures. When we nurture it, it thrives. THAT is how I feel we need to go into our relationships. However, if we feed it with our castoffs and poison it through our carelessness, it withers and eventually dies. 

We scatter the seeds (hopefully) of our smiles and laughter, nods and greetings throughout our days. If those actions are nurtured and passed on, the wildflowers bring a bit of beauty to our world. But, now and again, we find the seed of something bigger, stronger... perhaps an acorn.

In the beginning, that acorn presents us with a small tender plant that needs to be protected and nurtured. Its fragility is palpable. So we shelter it and prevent it from being taken over by the wildflowers around it. And it grows.

Soon enough, it becomes a sapling... not quite as tender. Winds buffet it, yet it bends without breaking. Floods come and it remains standing due to its flexibility. Fires rage and new growth appears. Over time, though, it becomes a titan of the forest, a king among kings. It provides shelter for the seedlings beneath it. Animals look to it for sanctuary or even as a home. Its dignity and strength are unquestionable. It has become a thing that only the strongest of natural hazards can possibly topple.

THAT is what love can be.

When we search for love, we always want that spark that will ignite the flame within us. I once did that as well... got burned, too! LOL Then I modified my search and instead looked for my own sanctuary, someone who would always have my back. 

Long relationships aren't always easy... They have too many attributes of water and air... and they should! A nice little bonfire now and then is a good thing as well, as long as there is the balance of the rest. The bonfires within a relationship keep things interesting. Fighting can clear the air and passion at the right times is awesome, but neither is the stuff that provides continuity.

Relationships ebb and flow. That's a fact. And GOOD friends and TRUE love can withstand that. People who really know and respect you will understand when there's a need to withdraw or flow in a different direction for a while. And a life partner should know when to become a friend instead. Because friendship can keep a relationship going whenever the passions are banked... a fire can't burn constantly as it requires too much fuel.

I call those with a constant need for the fire, leeches. Think about it. I've seen beautiful relationships with a love so intense that I almost become jealous, but they feed on one another until there's nothing else left. There's no room for anyone or anything else. They nourish and sustain one another. BUT if that passion isn't on an equal basis, one will devour the other... There is a need somewhere in there that has to be constantly fed, that cannot allow one to operate as an individual. It becomes a co-dependency rather than two healthy individuals who are meeting on equal feet. And when one of them dies... there is simply nothing left but the past... Heartbreaking.

Abiding love is peace, whether it's with a partner or friend. It's the comfortable silences and a hand to hold. It encourages strength and growth. It is complete trust. Love encourages us to shine or to stand aside while the other does. It encourages dreams to chase. It stands strong when challenged, yet is awesome in those quiet shared moments. It is wisdom and silence, harsh truths and support, pride in achievements and a shelter in which to hide. It is the everything of who we are since, in order to truly love another, we must first love ourselves.

A true life mate and forever friends may not always be there for the little problems, but let something shattering happen and an amazing thing occurs. It kind of reminds me of the old western tactic of the circling wagons. When we are loved, we become enfolded within both those real and metaphorical arms. We find a place to heal. It is such a soothing place to exist that sometimes it's hard to leave and stand strong again. But we do because we are each meant to be singular and unique.

So, save me the high maintenance. I have no desire for the relationship built entirely of fire, regardless of how beautiful it can be. Give me earth with a touch of water and air... maybe a little bonfire or two, but that's about it. I want all of this to last the rest of my life!

May you find your home.