Garden path

This pathway with its large fond du lac stones paves the way to my secret garden. Spring! It's just beginning to bloom.

Spring Beckons

Diary of a Hopelessly Romantic Pragmatist

To say I was missing something wouldn’t be true.  Life has a way of filling its empty spaces with purpose and familiar passions.

The goodness I have in my life feels like an heirloom tapestry...it is worn and wonderful.  I feel its frayed patches and its velvety folds.  I wrap my family in its warmth.  It is a colorful life handmade from loose ends and silken strands.  A beautifully imperfect life with the threads of good moves and missed opportunities woven together.

And yet, there’s something unsaid, unknown.  I think I found it crumpled and forgotten in the pocket of a too-small pair of jeans.  Faded, yet beautifully detailed, it was the softly colored romantic dream I’d carried in my heart. And now, I keep it safe in that pocket, afraid that if I open it up in the bright light of day, it will disappear. 

The Death of Spontaneity

Does the blistering accuracy of technology have a hand in killing the joyful surprise of an unannounced phone call? Do we so easily and painlessly ignore that which we either do not know (an unidentified caller), or even worse, the caller we know and wish to avoid?

Is it true that we are all at one time or another both pursuer and pursued? Do we block access to others because we're just not in the mood? I seem to be constantly on both sides of this conundrum. You'd think that because I know how painful it is to be avoided...to have my calls and texts ignored, that I would never take part in such a passive aggressive folly.

I am regularly on the receiving end of having calls/texts checked out and dissed. But it does make me think twice about doing it to someone else. We all deserve the chance to be heard.

On Kindred Spirits

After 12 months of dating, I am happy to announce the advent of something new...the late-in-life relationship with a kindred spirit. After having a regular gig date night for 12 months, my friend introduced me to his mother, a gentle, smiling lady with the softest hands I'd ever felt. She lives out-of-town which made a casual introduction precious and awkward. The arranged lunch meeting was wonderful. Since I don't think anybody reads this blog of mine, I'll post a recent low-quality pic we snapped at a late-night SBux rendez-vous.

The relentless spirit of HOPE

The world cheered as the carefully choreographed rescue of the Chilean miners ended happily and heroically. Experts in the psychology of survival cited HOPE as the single most influential and sustaining energy driving this successful effort.

HOPE, like faith is a remarkable force. It rallies the human spirit like nothing else. I witnessed its pervasive and positive power two years ago this month when my dad was very sick in the hospital. I recall how tenaciously he hung onto mere fragments of HOPE as he slowly drew himself out of depression and despair to a miraculous full recovery. I remember thinking to myself that his HOPE was unreasonable. Ridiculous even. But I never doubted its strength as I saw it motivate him to reach for a better outcome, a happier life.

HOPE is universal. It is the religion of all. And we were reminded tonight, watching the last of the miners emerge from the rescue capsule that what the world needs now is HOPE.

Keeping the Faith, Feeling the Love

Looking for a job is a surefire way to stressfully ponder the TRUE meaning of life. In the beginning, the prospect of carefully seeking out the perfect position was invigorating. It began for me beneath a gentle halo that I might now callously refer to as blissful disenchantment. By that I mean that I was oblivious to my restless malaise, but too stymied to push out of my comfort zone in pursuit of a passionate purpose. It called up all the fears that we all face down...the scary unknown and its boundless opportunity.

My hope is that along the way I will learn to trust the universe and to look to the stars to guide me. And when I find it, that perfect position, I will start feeling the love.

Social Media and the Pressure to Live an Interesting Life

With everyone tweeting the details of their lives into a carefully crafted 42 word entry, what does that mean for those of us who continue quietly along keeping our details hidden and our exploits under the radar? Social media has created a dichotomous world of exhibitionists and voyeurs. Facebook is a defining model that simultaneously tempts and repels me...how does that person have the nerve to post such blatant nuggets of narcissistic nonsense? And yet , there are those individuals who know exactly how to post... with the eloquent drama of a deftly choreographed soap opera. People whose antics and storytelling prowess somehow keeps us fully engaged and enthralled.

Facebook for one, has created a hierarchy of social media characters. There are the Queen Bee Evangelists whose every word triggers a frenzy of no less than 18 posts no doubt from the disciples who aspire to be so I N T E R E S T I N G. Then there are the post-challenged who try to be clever and cool, but whose posts fall like lukewarm dribble between drama and dirge. Last, there are the Facebook "Air Eaters" who just eat up the air without leaving behind anything much to remember.