Yesterday was a beautiful day. The sun was shining with nary a cloud in the sky. The temperature was an unseasonable 17 degrees that was reminiscent of the summer that mostly wasn't. We were lazy and lounged most of the morning. The girls laughed and kicked in the leaves at the curb as I packed the van for our trip to Grandma's. T-shirts were sported. A lovely day for a drive, so a long cut was taken. Country roads graced us with scenes of farmer's fields, lonesome cows and the last of the motorcyclists wheeling with wind in their faces. Brad rode shotgun, as a map loosely guided the van vaguely east. The Indigo Girls crooned in my ear and I was in my glory.
Until my cell beeped at me. Two missed calls, one from my Mother and one from Billy. "Where are you? Your mother is worried sick about you," a text accused. I was jarred back into present time, which was surprisingly late. My random drive and serene sunshine were abandoned for a trek back to the highway at a much faster pace. Accusing tones figured I had drank too much the night before or met someone that distracted me; neither true. I was enjoying the day in my own world, in my own head. "She must be off on a reiki train," they scoffed. I was relegated to the couch and barely made it to the adult table. "It does not matter", droned in my head. I am tired today though. Not enough sleep. Not enough normal for my family. Where do I belong? My own head seems to give my family worry. Sigh....
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Family Gathering
MMmmhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Breathe. The sound of squabbling children will fade into the background. It is early in the day yet. Not time for the war of the worlds yet. Maybe I will be lucky and meltdowns will be averted by the presence of relatives. We shall be gathering into the fold of my Mother's arms. Birthdays are the stated occasion, but really it is the end of summer and we have not all gathered in a while. Excuses are not necessary. It is purely just about love. We need to reconnect and hug and smile. Drinks will be imbibed, but perhaps in less moderation due to the various colds/flus that everyone has been recently battling. I shall make this brief therefore today and get a start on the business of the day. Family, food and fun here we come. Have a lovely weekend and enjoy the sun!
Thursday, November 12, 2009
A red rose fills my vision, brain with energy shared for the day
Smiles return.
Coffee with a friend
meet, laugh, share, chat.
Beautify me!
Hair shimmers in rainbow dreams.
Gorgeous red, yellow, blue, indigo streaks.
No charge for that extra. Ahhh
Panini to go. Warm and toasty
nutrients for the tummy.
Yummy.
Soothing thoughts, voices fill the afternoon
Peace and love through energy channels
straight into open soul
bliss and a shoulder that sighs in satisfaction
wonderous smiles and hugs
vibrating golden glow
hold it for longer
hold it for always.
Remember to find it again
The Body will remember again
The knowledge is there, sliding into cells
wonderous touch
love
Cascading into friends eyes
and future finds
fill our tummies with more yummy yummies
a meal fit for a fairy king in a children's parade
no tears, but of laughter
no fears, but of time sliding away
life is today
life is all days
Life
Wednesday Whirlwinds
I had a good day today. It was another mild, blissfully sunny November day. I dropped off the kids, grabbed a coffee and headed out to pick up a few things. I managed to spend a few dollars, but got a birthday present for my sister, a new bedspread and mattress pad for the soon-to-be new bed for my eldest and some other bits and bobs. Fresh bread from the bakery served to fill my tummy with sandwich before attacking the floor that had challenged me for too long. Satisfaction at a clean floor helped me to sail along to yoga for an ohm good time. A bottle of wine picked up and hugs from the darlings continued the smiles, as did lighting of the BBQ for a late in the season steak dinner. All good.
So where did it all go wrong? All that positive energy I built up all day exploded when the milk hit the floor (my newly mopped floor!) followed by a plate full of juicy steak, potatoes and salad with salad dressing of course. The chair pillow was soaked. The wall was splattered. My beautiful clean floor had lasted for a scant few hours and I was livid. I hate mopping the floor, but when I do mop I find a serene beauty in it. It makes me blissfully happy to know that I have conquered the dirt, germs and stains. It never lasts though. The day the floor gets mopped is the day that mass food spillage is guaranteed to occur. Sighing and shaking my head are all I can muster now, but the kids got worse than that. I sometimes wonder where my anger comes from. How can I get so upset over spilled milk? Well, it was also working on the 45 minute mark of sitting at the table and I had been watching them eat for the better part of 20 with an empty plate in front of me. Both of their plates were still looking almost untouched. "Wasting food!" my brain screams at me. "My time and energy" my defeated soul moans. I yell and rant and lose the battle again. "Maybe I just won't make dinner any more!", I fume, knowing that is a ridiculous threat, but wishing that I could somehow convince them that the dinner wars are just not worth it. I am not the first parent to have these challenges and I know I will not be the last. I just wish I could be a little more graceful at making dinner flow pleasantly. We lit candles for goodness sake and had music playing! It should have been a good meal. I even served bread (probably the downfall there). Yeah, yeah, you lose Katherine, let it go.
I could not let it go though. Dinner crashed to its close and I re-mopped the floor. The dishes were put away from the dishwasher and refilled. I finished my wine without children, breathed for a moment and then jumped back into the ring. This time the battle was the play room. Why do I do this to myself?! Oh Lord, but the floor has not been seen for many a day/week. I entered the room and threw the gloves down. Television off. This was serious. I had been warning them this day was coming and today was the day. I figured I was in the right spirit for it, so sat down amidst the mayhem and began to sort. The kids brought me toys to sort into bins and I directed what was to go where. "Garbage. Your bedroom. Dress-up trunk. Garbage. garbage." Two hours. T asked me, "is it bedtime yet?" I looked at my watch to find it was already nine! Holy shamoley!! The mess was tamed though. The floor was discovered and it was good. T even thought it looked much better. I tried to vacuum after the girls were tucked into bed, but even it resisted me tonight. A broom finished the job. Unfortunately my dream of a tub tonight was shattered. Sigh. Alas, alack-a-day! The basement can be walked into though. The garbage has been put out. And now it is way high time for me to toss my weary cranky body into bed. I will live to fight another day, but hopefully tomorrow the fight will not be about food or a messy basement. Please
So where did it all go wrong? All that positive energy I built up all day exploded when the milk hit the floor (my newly mopped floor!) followed by a plate full of juicy steak, potatoes and salad with salad dressing of course. The chair pillow was soaked. The wall was splattered. My beautiful clean floor had lasted for a scant few hours and I was livid. I hate mopping the floor, but when I do mop I find a serene beauty in it. It makes me blissfully happy to know that I have conquered the dirt, germs and stains. It never lasts though. The day the floor gets mopped is the day that mass food spillage is guaranteed to occur. Sighing and shaking my head are all I can muster now, but the kids got worse than that. I sometimes wonder where my anger comes from. How can I get so upset over spilled milk? Well, it was also working on the 45 minute mark of sitting at the table and I had been watching them eat for the better part of 20 with an empty plate in front of me. Both of their plates were still looking almost untouched. "Wasting food!" my brain screams at me. "My time and energy" my defeated soul moans. I yell and rant and lose the battle again. "Maybe I just won't make dinner any more!", I fume, knowing that is a ridiculous threat, but wishing that I could somehow convince them that the dinner wars are just not worth it. I am not the first parent to have these challenges and I know I will not be the last. I just wish I could be a little more graceful at making dinner flow pleasantly. We lit candles for goodness sake and had music playing! It should have been a good meal. I even served bread (probably the downfall there). Yeah, yeah, you lose Katherine, let it go.
I could not let it go though. Dinner crashed to its close and I re-mopped the floor. The dishes were put away from the dishwasher and refilled. I finished my wine without children, breathed for a moment and then jumped back into the ring. This time the battle was the play room. Why do I do this to myself?! Oh Lord, but the floor has not been seen for many a day/week. I entered the room and threw the gloves down. Television off. This was serious. I had been warning them this day was coming and today was the day. I figured I was in the right spirit for it, so sat down amidst the mayhem and began to sort. The kids brought me toys to sort into bins and I directed what was to go where. "Garbage. Your bedroom. Dress-up trunk. Garbage. garbage." Two hours. T asked me, "is it bedtime yet?" I looked at my watch to find it was already nine! Holy shamoley!! The mess was tamed though. The floor was discovered and it was good. T even thought it looked much better. I tried to vacuum after the girls were tucked into bed, but even it resisted me tonight. A broom finished the job. Unfortunately my dream of a tub tonight was shattered. Sigh. Alas, alack-a-day! The basement can be walked into though. The garbage has been put out. And now it is way high time for me to toss my weary cranky body into bed. I will live to fight another day, but hopefully tomorrow the fight will not be about food or a messy basement. Please
Monday, November 9, 2009
Monday wanes philosophic
Bed ways is right ways, but a comment to the world at large before sleep steals my soul.
We all live in our own world. We have control over our world and no one else's. We may touch and influence those around us, but ultimately they are in control of their own destinies. Our children make their own minds up even as infants. We can offer and help shape, but no one can make up all the decisions. Even in acquiescing we make that decision. In that way we come at the world as individuals. No one has lived your life and you cannot live anyone else's. Your burdens are your own. If we reach out and ask for help and get nothing, that is all we can expect. If someone reaches out and offers a hand when we are fallen and dirty, this is a joy we can cherish. We might fall at something big or something little. Who is to say that my big is not really little or your little is truly huge. It is all relative. We can only view it through our own filter. Ultimately we can only live our own life, so what does it matter what the next person's burden is. We all have our burdens and they are own own to carry. Mine is mine and not anyone else's. It is as much as I can and need to carry. I do not need to worry that someone else's burden looks different than mine. We can help and offer to share. That is a beautiful thing, but it does not always happen. At times it should not happen either, as we only live one life and it is ours. It is yours alone. You walk side by side, not in each other's footsteps. If you are lucky enough to have someone to walk beside. Some days you may see no one, but you would be surprised that some days when it feels like you will never see a soul again an army of angels is there helping to carry the load. I can look at my darkest hours and see the angels. Some days they were subtle. Some days it was overwhelming. I share, but this is my experience. Mine alone that I cannot replicate or do over. I control me. Myself alone. That is enough. Enough for me. Enough for one night. Enough for anyone.
We all live in our own world. We have control over our world and no one else's. We may touch and influence those around us, but ultimately they are in control of their own destinies. Our children make their own minds up even as infants. We can offer and help shape, but no one can make up all the decisions. Even in acquiescing we make that decision. In that way we come at the world as individuals. No one has lived your life and you cannot live anyone else's. Your burdens are your own. If we reach out and ask for help and get nothing, that is all we can expect. If someone reaches out and offers a hand when we are fallen and dirty, this is a joy we can cherish. We might fall at something big or something little. Who is to say that my big is not really little or your little is truly huge. It is all relative. We can only view it through our own filter. Ultimately we can only live our own life, so what does it matter what the next person's burden is. We all have our burdens and they are own own to carry. Mine is mine and not anyone else's. It is as much as I can and need to carry. I do not need to worry that someone else's burden looks different than mine. We can help and offer to share. That is a beautiful thing, but it does not always happen. At times it should not happen either, as we only live one life and it is ours. It is yours alone. You walk side by side, not in each other's footsteps. If you are lucky enough to have someone to walk beside. Some days you may see no one, but you would be surprised that some days when it feels like you will never see a soul again an army of angels is there helping to carry the load. I can look at my darkest hours and see the angels. Some days they were subtle. Some days it was overwhelming. I share, but this is my experience. Mine alone that I cannot replicate or do over. I control me. Myself alone. That is enough. Enough for me. Enough for one night. Enough for anyone.
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