... May The Force Be With You ...

Luke and Ben Skywalker, on the diverse training of the New Jedi Order…

Luke: "Ben, what is our purpose as Jedi?"
Ben: "Well… to keep the Force in balance and to help people stay in balance with the Force. To detect wrongs and make them right. To serve as models for very attractive lines of boots."


I wish I were an artist who could paint a portrait with ease. I would love to be an artist so talented, my brush could portray the true essence of the person posing before me. Unfortunately, I am not. My mind holds the vivid image of the little dark haired, five-year-old boy leaping off a chair with his light sabre. The Jedi Knight wore a pillowcase cape around his neck as he leaped from the couch to the floor to the chair. He was the guardian of peace and justice, and righteously defended those in my brother’s home from Darth Vader’s evil plans to control the universe.

Oh yes, he knew the script and was amazingly good. He memorized the lines and had the characters voices down to a tee. He could throw his voice and become the main cast members of Star Wars. Yoda, is the one that is the most memorable. My nephew may have not been green like Yoda, but with the allergies he had what came out of his nose was! We tagged the oozing substance Green-11, I’m sure you got the picture! I shake my head now, with a smile on my face thinking of him at that age. The shy freckled-face kid with a huge toothy smile had a many universes to discover.

The knight resurfaced years later when my son was small. There were nine years between the boys, and in his protective mode, he told my son that if anyone ever picked on him, he was to tell them his cousin would take care of them. My son believed him and the bond between the boys began without ever having met each other. I see them both together today, and feel equally as proud.

The story how my nephew and I eventually became close is a long and personal one. We hung onto each other with encouraging words through a few hard times. He is married to a beautiful girl with a loving heart and has three gorgeous daughters. He made the life altering decision to join the Army after nearly two years of weighing the odds. I didn’t understand it at first, why at his age and marital status would he want to do this. Then he told me this, “There is a big idea which is at stake, the principles of liberty and justice. The thought of doing what is right is what makes it easily borne.” Serving our country in troubled times was exactly what he felt was right, also his duty.

My nephew, Tom is being deployed to Afghanistan tomorrow morning. I asked him if he was okay with it and he calmly said, “There is nothing pleasant about where I am going, nor about soldiering, but I can endure its privations.” I thought that was a noble statement. I won’t be seeing him board the plane or numbly watch it as it disappears into the clouds, but he knows how much I love him and how very proud I am of him. So, tomorrow, I will stand a few hundred miles from him and look proudly towards the sky, my thoughts, my heart, and my prayers will be with him. I will envision his freckled face smiling back with the confidence of a Jedi Knight.

Until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of His hands… ~Aunt Monica

... Outside looking in...

“What is the purpose of life? The purpose of life is tomorrow. What is tomorrow? Tomorrow is getting up and knowing who you are, knowing that God is with you, and knowing you can handle yourself with grace.” ~Yogi Bhajan


This quote is posted on my refrigerator. I read it first thing in the morning when I reach for the cream for my coffee, and every time I pass it throughout the day. There is a lot of wisdom in those words. They are simple self-explanatory words, life, faith, and self-control. Perhaps happiness and well-being spring form a wisdom that lies beyond and beneath the fruits of the mind. A wisdom that can only be tapped by self-awareness.

Recently I was asked, “So, what would you do if you suddenly found yourself on the outside looking in and all the while wondering how you got there?” That’s a loaded question that deserves an answer.

Who knows, I may have been on the outside all along. It’s a little fuzzy, but I have come to the realization I might have missed some significant clues of how I got there along the way. It’s a bit of an outcast feeling, like you’re involved, but you can’t make a connection. I suppose it’s the same as being on the inside. On the inside, there were times I couldn’t see what the problem was, circumstances clouded my judgment, wasting time worrying about things that would not, or could not change.

Jealousy, egos, lack of expressing emotions, lashed out words that cannot be retracted, petty conflicts left unresolved, and finding the courage to tell others how you feel without fear of losing the love from others, all these scenarios and many more push someone to the outside. We become what we are as a result of the experiences we have had, and because of what our minds thinks and believes.

There is an old saying that we know a tree by its fruits. An apple tree gives apples. A pear tree gives pears. We cannot expect pears from an apple tree and apples from a pear tree. We may be able to cross breed them and create a new fruit neither pear nor apple. But we cannot get from someone what his or her spirit does not contain.

I have to admit being on the outside looking in, I have a crystal clear view what’s wrong, and at the moment, I’m not certain I want to fix it. We are all free to be and to create as we choose. There is no requirement to change. The choice will always be ours. The question is whether or not we are being served by what we experience. So, for right now, the best thing I can do for myself is to tear out some pages and surrender to renewal.


Peace…

...Stones...

Last week my other half and I came down with a miserable cold at the same time. The chances of that happening over the course of 40 years have only been a few times. It never fails, soon as I start feeling better, I get the urge to clean and go through boxes stored with mementos I’m not ready to part with. I wrote about these “ghosts” that take residence and won’t leave a while back in another blog. The exorcism’s I tried to perform are still unsuccessful. Trouble is, most of little “ghosts” bring back such fond memories I don’t want them to leave quite yet. They have gotten used to being moved around and always settle in comfortably at the new home I find for them in another closet or the attic.

I love refinding things. The memories connected with them makes me smile and transports my mind to relive the happy event. One of the many things I refound today was two, canning jars of stones and one of shells. Oh, there were many more jars in the past, but these three were the only ones that survived the years and mom’s trashcan when it was time to “clean house.” After three moves across country, I am still amazed the jars haven’t cracked, chipped or shattered. The individual jars were thoughtfully wrapped in white butcher paper, and then padded with bubble wrap. This was not your ordinary bubble wrap, but the kind with the big air cells and when stomped on, sounds like a shotgun going off. You know, the stuff the ignites our imagination and provides cheap entertainment!

“Owww, the good kind!” my kids would giggle with delight. The big bubble wrap was definitely the best! I watched their eyes light up and something tickle their insides as we deviously conspired to scare dad when he came home. It was hard for them to control their laughter as I watched them sneak around the corner. Heck, it was hard for me to control my laughter as well. BAM…BAM…BAMBAMBAM…. the safe firecrackers went off as planned! Exhilarating laughter filled the house, and after the initial shock wore off, their surprised daddy runs after them down the hall with his hands extended in a tickling motion. The booming words, “I’m gonna get you!” resonated from the other room with more laughter throughout the house.

The stones collected were nothing special, small smooth stones that fit in a child’s clutch that glittered when the sun shone on them, pretty agates, granite, quartz, and pyrite. To my children, the exceptional finds were referred to as “treasures.” We made over each one of their discoveries, kept them safe in our pockets until we got home, and helped them find even more pretty ones to add to their growing collections. My daughter’s collection contained stones from France, Holland, Africa, Spain, several different states, and of course, from the trail behind our home. Our son’s collection didn’t have foreign stones. The majority of his were fossilized remnants from the Petrified Forest off the Navajo reservation. With permission of a Navajo friend, we were fortunate to have gotten those. Some are smooth terra cotta colored pieces while some of the larger pieces have begun to crystallize. When they were tired of examining and playing with them, the stones went back into the water filled jars on the windowsill to sparkle like precious gems in the sunlight.

As a young mother, I was sometime frustrated at the amount of stones collected, picking them up everywhere in the house and secretly disposing of the “bland” ones in my potted plants or out the back door. Eventually, the amount of stones collected gradually decreased as the kids grew up. The realization happened when we were on our usual hikes I would pick up a “really good one.” I was flashed the disinterested look that told me they were too old for that kind of kid stuff.

My kids are now the adults with families, and I’m certain they have gone stone hunting with their own children starting new collections. As parents, I wonder if they saved any of those “treasures” as their own children grew out of that phase like their mother did...probably not.

Anyway, this was my walk down memory lane. On this cold blustery rainy day, the sunny days of yesteryear shine on my face and warm my heart, and I am thankful to have shared this wonderful bond with my children. I carefully rewrapped each stone filled jar, placed them gently back into the individual bins that house, and protect the young memories I have saved for my children when I’m gone, and hope it puts a smile on their faces on a different rainy day.

I still have the tendency to pick up an unusual stone that catches my eye on a trail, or kick my feet in the sand hoping to uncover a hidden treasure on the beach. I know my husband walks behind me, with a smile on his face. I know, and he knows, the “kid” in us still remains.

...The Circle...

“The Circle has healing power. In the Circle, we are all equal. When in the Circle, no one is in front of you. No one is behind you. No one is above you. No one is below you. The Sacred Circle is designed to create unity. The Hoop of Life is also a circle. On this Hoop, there is a place for every species, every race, every tree, and every plant. It is this completeness of Life that must be respected in order to bring about health on this planet.”
~Dave Chief-Oglala Lakota~

Sometimes, I can be a little dense not being able to see the forest through the trees. I also been told I must live in a dream world, yeah right. Life is not always viewed through rose-colored glasses, but I tried to wear them every chance I got. What can I say, I liked the cheery color. Okay, enough of the clichés and get back to the point I’m trying to make.

Sometimes, I thought an achievement needed to be monumental or else it doesn’t count. That’s how I viewed most of “my” adult life. I gave it my best shot when I gave 120%. I was at times an overachiever. I was competitive in my personal life and in business, the typical Type A personality. I was also accused of flitting around like an unsettled fly when something needed to be done or was out of place. I fidgeted (I know, I know...the term is OCD) until it got done or forced myself to walk away, wondering if anyone else noticed, and if it bugged them too. You know, like that crooked picture in a public place, or the piece of rice balancing on the man’s beard which is sitting in the booth in front of you at an upscale restaurant. It’s hard to restrain yourself from doing or saying something about it. In today’s world, I would probably be accused of shoplifting if I tipped the picture, or the stacked brunette sitting across from the man in the booth would threaten me with the nearest steak knife, then badger the poor guy all the way home about the “other woman.” Yep, I can picture that happening, and I’ll bet you can too!

So back to the big picture and yes, I am taking the long way around. Sorry. Well, I looked at the whole panoramic picture. I couldn’t find myself, “Someone must have painted over that portion,” I told myself. The artist surely must have made a mistake. I fretted over decisions I made, and those I didn’t have any control of. Recently, we chose to live a simple life with simple pleasures, like the “old” days. It worked for a while, and then I lost sight of what I was trying to accomplish and reverted back to my old habits and ways of thinking. My thinking isn’t about the amount of material things we own, like the saying, “Those with the most toys wins?” I often wondered, what exactly do they win? They can’t take their possessions with them in the end, and quite frankly, the behavior bores those who they compete against. What I lost was the inner peace, and being content with who I am.

Yesterday, I heard the voice of a stranger loud and clear in the form of an email. She thanked me for my written words of encouragement on an Internet suicide site I posted on over a year ago. She has been following my blogs since. I don’t know where she lives or how old she is, but, I know her name and that makes her very real. I get many emails after I post from people who don't want others to see their comments, but this particular one was special. The reason it’s special is because her words touched my heart and it had perfect timing. It’s not fair to disclose anymore than I have already said about her. It is I who should be thanking her, and everyone else with his or her kind words of encouragement and healing energy. I very sincerely, Thank You!

Let me back up a bit, most of those who read or subscribe to my blog know about my fight with depression. It’s been out of the bag for a while and I work on my positive thinking daily. For months, I have prayed diligently to God to hear my pleas. I prayed to please give me purpose and clarity or let me die. People, who don’t suffer with depression, just don’t get it. I have it, and I don’t get it either. I tell myself it’s all in my DNA and I can rise above it. Right? Yes, I can and I have, but it’s not easy. I know you don’t want to keep hearing the same damn thing every time I write, so, I’ll zip it.

In the exact words of my friend, “And the dawn came up like thunder!”

The Southern Gospel Choir is now singing, “Halleluiah, Halleluiah!”

Something finally clicked as I read this young girl’s letter. I don’t know who is responsible for the quote, “ Q. How do we change the world? A. With one single act of random kindness at a time.” Every time I post something, whether it’s on the Constipated Woman or other public forums, I may be touching another through my words. Yes, I admit I am hardheaded and deaf to believe God actually heard my prayers. I don’t know why, because he has answered countless others. And, I have to remind myself it’s not the monumental things that matter, but the kind words of another, a smile or a small insignificant gesture. You know, all the good stuff we attempt to pay forward!

I am lucky enough to know two women of Native American Indian descent, both spiritual, and both supportive. Everyone who has friends like that should be thankful to have that special kinship. You know who you are, and Thank You for the continuous flow of positive energy!

God Bless & Peace to All.