My musings, my rambles and I welcome you.
LIVE WITH INTENTION.
WALK TO THE EDGE.
CHOOSE WITH NO REGRETS..
DANCE IN THE LIGHT
APPRECIATE MY FAMILY & FRIENDS.
|Sparks Chapter 1
I started reading The Spark by Chris Downie as part of my “get healthy” program but I had to stop and think about the answer to these questions.
Where would you take yourself right this moment if you walked toward your most heartfelt dream?
What would your life look like? What would your body look and feel like? What level of energy would you have?
What might be your favorite activity? What would your daily life include?
If I could walk into my most heartfelt dream, I would walk onto a beach in Kailua HI. I would be slimmer walking along the endless shore, counting waves and listening to the birds, tourists and boogieboarders. I would feel great with the wind blowing in my face and the sun shining. My energy would be high but my mood peaceful. This would be a vacation and not a place to live. My hubby would be working or fishing depending how this vacation came about.
My favorite activity would be walking that familiar beach till I wanted to drop and then pulling out my Kindle (times change).
I would read, pray and remember. I would try to find a way to keep this peace with me always even though I know its next to impossible.
My daily life is a little harder to imagine. I would be slimmer with more energy. I would walk everyday for fun and exercise. I would eat healthier foods that taste good not just good for me. (I don’t care how you dress them or how good they are for you, beets are disgusting.) I could actually start that backyard garden because I could bend down and take care of things.
If my weight was more normal, maybe my moods would not be so morose. I know when I exercise it lifts my outlook and spirit.
I’m stopping here because this getting too wordy, but there maybe more to come from the book. It seems like that kind of message. One to share.
|The Cookies She Eats
There once was a girl
Who for every joy & sorrow
Ate a cookie.
For every happiness & light
A cookie she ate.
For every sadness & despair
A cookie comforted her.
The little girl grew
As little girls do
Until she became
round & short
Just like the cookies she ate.
The little girl is now a woman
Who for every joy & sorrow
Eats a cookie.
And just like the little girl
The woman remains
Short & round like
The cookies she eats.
This poem is me but I am trying to change it. I lost 25lbs last year and have lost 12lbs since the start of the year. I'm exercising more. I'm tired of being short and round. Wish me luck or say a prayer. I need the help.
|Prompt: Valentine's Day: What kind of gift would you like a secret admirer to give you on Valentine's Day? Would you like to know who your secret admire was? Have you ever had a secret admirer?
Prompt: Valentine's Day: What kind of gift would you like a secret admirer to give you on Valentine's Day?
Roses are nice but is this a Valentine gift or a birthday gift? As my birthday is 2-14, one would hope that the secret admirer would know this. Personally, I’m going to ask hubby for something that won’t die or need to be dusted or put weight on my hips. A kiss or two would be great and I’ll buy my own flowers. I actually like tulips better. My birthday seems like some kind of half way point between Christmas and broken New Year’s resolutions so some cheery colors are always welcome.
Prompt: Would you like to know who your secret admire was? Have you ever had a secret admirer?
Not unless you count a Secret Santa in school. I don’t think that qualifies as an admirer as he never revealed himself. I suspect it was a “he” as he was probably embarrassed and this was grade school.
As for the whole secret admirer scenario, it seems stalkerish unless it in a Romance Novel. Fairy tales are rarely real life and yet as I write I am remembering a strange situation from my single days.
I had just come out the Safeway grocery store when a tall good, looking man approached me. I stepped back.
“Hello, “he said. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve seen you around town and you’re so pretty and always have a smile on your face. I just wanted to meet you and see if we could get together.”
I was flattered and creeped out.
“Look I don’t know you. I’ve never seen you before. Why me?” I asked.
“Like I said I’ve seen you around and you look like someone I want to know. Here’s my card with my phone number. Give me a call if you want to get together.” And then he left. I stood by my car holding groceries for a very long time after he left.
When I got home and told my roommate why I was late with dinner, they were equally appalled and amused.
“Well Lani, he could be an axe murder or a nice guy. Axe murderers are not usually charming.” Said one of my roommates unhelpfully. This was before I found out about Ted Bundy.
“You could always invite him to church to see how he responds. If he comes, we can pray for him. And you for protection.” Said my other roommate. This was not a bad suggestion. As a church we had a week of services coming for Easter and I was very involved. If a Bible believing Charismatic church didn’t scare him, he might be a keeper.
And I prayed about the situation. It seemed more of an opportunity. Whether this was good or bad remained to be seen. So, I call him and invited him to church. And to my everlasting surprise he came. We had a good time meeting my friends and roommates and discussing (wait for it) religion. He was charming and wonderful and nice. If he was an axe murderer, he hid it well.
Anyway, we went on a couple of dates and I had fun. I felt safe as my friends and roommates met him and liked him. And I made sure my roommates knew where I was when I was with him.
In a fairy tale, this would be the part where I would write and “they lived happily ever after.” In a romance, I would have married him. Since this is neither, we parted because there was no spark or chemistry between us. I know chemistry is not everything but he was a sweet charming man who deserved someone who loved him completely. That wasn’t me.
So yes, I have had a secret admirer and I met him.
p.s. I've reread this entry a couple of times and I still marvel at the hand of God on me at this time. This situation could've gone wrong so many different ways and it didn't. Today, I can't imagine being this brave or foolish.
|I cannot believe it has been 10 months since my last entry and yet I can. So much has happened and is happening that finding time to write is becoming a distant memory. I haven't been here much in last 3-4 years because my health is stupid. Its not poor or sickly but stupid as in I'm stupid. If I had made better choices as a young person I wouldn't be reaping what I sowed. A reminder to young whippersnappers to eat their veggies, take your Calcium and use good body mechanics when lifting.
Covid has passed by my house (thanks be to God) but I broke my hip in August. I'm just now ready for outpatient rehab and I am doing a bunch or mindless strength training exercises for my hip and back. I need some suggestions for music to make this a little for fun. What gets your heart going? makes your toes tap or or just makes you smile? I have some music on my iPod/phone but its going to get boring fast if I don't have a large playlist.
Here's where I am starting
Carrie Underwood: I am the Champion
Survivor: Eye the Tiger
ELO: Mr. Blue Sky
Katrina and the Waves: Walking on Sunshine
Brandon Heath: Give Me Your Eyes
Aaron Jeoffrey: I got to the Rock
So as you can see I am a fan of 80's pop and rock and Christian rock and praise. Any suggestions will be greatly appreciated
|Is it really 2020? Where did the time go? And where are the Jetsons and their flying cars, robots and everything? 2020. Doesn't that seem like such a space age-y year? Good grief we haven't even made it to Mars except in the movies. However if Alexa or Siri came with Majel Barrett's voice (the voice of the Star Trek computer) I would freak out.
All of this to Happy 2020. May the New Year be a blessed one for all of us.
|Its hard to have traditions when jobs and schedule mean that either my dear hubby or myself will be working. Most of our traditions are around food when we finally get to celebrate. But even our food is not traditional holiday fare. After Thanksgiving, we're turkeyed out and neither of us care for ham, so our traditional meal is steak.
However my favorite Christmas Eve tradition is a good book, a fire and counting blessings.
by the fire,
rests the dog.
surround the tree
with a soft glow.
In the late night
I sip my tea.
those I love
most slumber .
With a sigh,
I head for
Grateful to God
that those I love
best are home.
Educating, Helping, Advocating
Many roles, many hands
Line A: One vague or general one-word subject or topic.
Line B: Two vivid adjectives that describe the topic.
Line C: Three interesting “-ing” action verbs that fit the topic.
Line D: Four-word phrase that captures feeling about the topic.
Line E: A very specific term that explains Line A
I enjoy writing poetry but I love Nursing. I wrote this Cinquain about 10 years ago for National Nurses Week which happens every May. It has never been published until now.
Some of you know that I am a Neonatal and Level 2 nursery nurse. I want to tell you a story of why I love my job.
I was working nights and I was doing an assessment on my patient. She was a little tiny boo who had just been weaned off the ventilator and was still fragile.
"So girl-friend, your heart sounds good, " I say in a sing-song voice. "No murmur, you lungs are clear, tummy is good at 21 cm (8.26 in). Mmmm, your pulses are strong. Way to go girl-friend." I hum a little tune as I continue the exam.
"Oh look at those cute little toesies and fingers. No bath tonight since you are just off the vent..."
A chuckle interrupted my flow.
"Oh Miss Lani, I love how you talk to the babies! It's not baby talk." said a mom who was close by holding her child.
Slightly embarrassed to be caught talking to the baby, I said, " I know but the chatter keeps me on track for what I need to do and I say it a baby talk voice. The babies hear the higher tones a little better. So it doesn't matter what I say but how I say it. Plus I like to let them what is happening. They may not understand my words but they understand tone. I feel sometimes I am speaking to their spirits."
"That is so sweet," she replied.
I went on with my shift and didn't think too much about the conversation. Although I became more aware of who was listening and what I was saying to the babies.
Several months later, I was working the day shift and I was called to the front desk for a visitor with a baby.
"You don't remember me do you?" said a smartly dressed lady hold a small baby in her arms. "A few months ago, I told you I liked your baby talk."
"Oh yes, your little one went home last month. How is she doing?"
"Great, we're here for a check-up. And I want to thank you."
"Me?" I said "But I only took care of your baby maybe twice during her hospitalization."
"Because I am a first time mother. A single mother. I don't know a lot a children and less about babies until now. Your calm demeanor, your precious baby talk showed me the way. I just needed to keep calm and talk to her about what is going to happen. It keeps me on task and it keeps me from losing my cool. And it helped me bond to my baby."
I must've looked as dumbfounded as I felt. She hugged me and then talked with some of the other nurses and doctors who took care of her child.
"Good job." said my charge nurse patting my shoulder. "You never really know when something you say or do will make a difference so someone."
That's why I love my job.
by e.e. cummings
spring when the world is mud-
luscious the little
whistles far and wee
and eddieandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it's
when the world is puddle-wonderful
old balloonman whistles
far and wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing
from hop-scotch and jump-rope and
I love this poem because the imagery in the poem is so vivid and magical. I picture a man hobbling down the street with his balloons to sell calling children with his recognizable whistle. A neighborhood (world) that is mud-luscious and puddle-wonderful. Can you not hear the kids splashing puddles as they run to meet him?
When I read this work, I realize the physical words of the poem can help tell the story. The placement of the words on the page can set the tone.
Far and wee is the sound the whistle makes. I can hear a low sound but a long sound from how the words are place.
And can you not picture two out of breath boys (eddieandbill) trying to catch the balloonman?
The whole poem is fun and magical and it's spring on paper.
I wrote several poem in the e.e. cummings style. I hope I did him proud.
|A myth... is a metaphor for a mystery beyond human comprehension. It is a comparison that helps us understand, by analogy, some aspect of our mysterious selves. A myth, in this way of thinking, is not an untruth but a way of reaching a profound truth.” ~Christopher Vogler Do you agree or disagree? What's your favorite myth?
so goes life.
As Sisyphus rolls his rock
toward the abyss,
Man's unending falling
Into a darkness
life gone by.
but not the tears;
from another's lips,
only Love breaks through
hope, light, life
back from the
My favorite myth is Sisyphus. Well, maybe not favorite but one that I understand. It's real life. Sisyphus is the king of Ephya. He promotes navigation and commerce so he is a good guy. But wait, he kills travelers and guests so he is a bad guy.
Sisyphus is also sly, charming and cunning. He annoyed Zeus by betraying one of the god's secrets to a river god for a mountain spring. Killing guests breaks hospitality laws of Zeus so he orders Death (or Hades depending on your version) to put Sisyphus in chains in Tartarus. The king talked Death into putting the chains on himself, you know to see how they worked. No one could die until Death was freed.
In another story Sisyphus tricks the Queen of the Dead Persephone into letting him leave the Underworld. He convinced her he was there by mistake.
For his hubris of believing he was smarter than the gods, Zeus has Sisyphus rolling a rock up a hill only to have it roll back down before he can complete the task. Unending frustration and wasted effort is his hell for his clever mind.
I believe that Mr. Vogler is right that myth is metaphor for human mysteries. As for Sisyphus, the mystery is why would a king with so many gifts (a rich country, a family, a clever mind and a charming way) throw it all away? Why break the laws of basic decency? How did he come to believe that he was better or smarter than the gods?
Why do we?