Tag Archives: beautiful

I’ve recently returned to Earth …

from a musical journey that altered the perception I have of music and, perhaps more importantly, the percipience I have of myself.

A few months ago, I was introduced to the musical genius of Gustav Mahler.  I was taken aback by the way his music touched me, moved me and the joy that it brought to my soul.  The profound effect that it had on me was, however, inexplicably isolating; moreso, in some ways, than the other eccentricities that keep me balancing just on the cusp of the world around me.

I had a burning desire to share the brilliance and excitement of it.  I found, though, that I could no more explain the way it touched my spirit than I could the way that words and images fill me up.  After a time, I spoke of it less and less and held the wonder of it inside myself like a caged bird.  I spent many nights lying in bed thinking of it and praying that when the morning dawned, comprehension of its magnitude would become evident.

I made plans to attend The Cleveland Orchestra for their performance of Mahler’s First Symphony and thought I would go mad waiting for the day to arrive.  Having listened to tens of dozens of hours of his compositions, I was, in my mind, prepared for what I would experience; I wasn’t even close.

From the first bars, I was riveted.  The music soared through the grand concert hall, covering me with a power that I simply wasn’t expecting.  Hearing it performed live was like nothing I could have imagined.  It moved me so esoterically that I wondered, at times, if I would lose control completely and be asked to leave.  I was overcome with emotion and was left, by the end of the concert, beautifully, wonderfully, unimaginably drained.

For a time, I was unable to speak more than a few words about it as it swirled and churned inside me, weaving itself into the very core of my being in a way I didn’t realize was possible.   At some point during this time, I was reminded that to fully understand music is to have no real understanding of it at all.  It is its own language and changes even as it stays the same.

I ascertained that sharing the overwhelming impact it had on my life was irrelevant for even if I could put my thoughts into words, the intimacy I shared with the music was mine alone.  I was, in that singularly, enlightening moment, set free from my own expectations.  I knew then that I didn’t need anyone’s understanding of my perception of the music or how it moved me or touched me or sustained me.

I was, in an instant, irrevocably changed for the better and for that, I am thankful.

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Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all the earth: make a loud noise, and rejoice, and sing praise ~ Psalms 98:4

an exciting or remarkable experience …

is how Merriam-Webster defines adventure.  I believe that to be an apt definition and find myself in such situations regularly.  I love driving along deserted country roads where flowers spring up in the hot days of summer.  Putting the convertible top down and heading to the high places with the sun on my face is sheer ecstasy.

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I have favorites; roads, bridges, trees, rocks, trails.  I love them all, but I do have favorites.  Often, I start to one place and find that, without actually being aware of it, end up somewhere else entirely.  It is these times I like best for I end up where I need to be to find that which I seek.  Sometimes it’s a photograph, other times, it is nothing more than silence ensconced in the beauty and rhythm of nature.  In these places of solitude, shadow and light, I think my thoughts and dream my dreams.  These are the quiet, lovely adventures that leave my mind clear and my body strong.

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I can’t compare my solitary escapes into the wilderness to the whirlwind trips to D.C, St. Louis, New York and Las Vegas.  Those were very different adventures.  They were full of noise, lights, crowds, smells and frenetic energy.   There was no peaceful silence or slow, lazy days.  In those places of chaos, shadow and light, I tried very hard to hold onto my thoughts as the world unfolded before my eyes.   While in Las Vegas, amidst all the opulence and grandeur, there was a welcome respite; a drive through the desert and across Hoover Dam.  That was an awesome experience.  Even with my mind boggled and my body tired, it was awesome.

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I’m certain that none of what I have experienced thus far will be comparable to the one I am on the cusp of experiencing.  I am going to a place I’ve never seen in a city I’ve been before.  Lord willing, I will have an orchestral experience that has the real potential to blow my mind with its magnitude.  I haven’t even left yet and I already feel altered somehow.  I suppose it is the excitement.    This era of my life is a precious window; my time, my place.   I don’t plan to waste a minute just watching it pass.

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Here, lately …

I’ve felt like singing most of the time.  I have to admit, while I really like the way I feel, I am perplexed by it.  I can’t say, for certain, that I have ever felt as I do now.  Happy, but in a normal way.  Exuberant, but in a normal way.  I have the ability to keep a thought in my head and to make sense when I’m talking; even if it is only to myself.

I find myself smiling for no particular reason and being excited over simple things; like coming home at the end of a long day.  I find that irritations come less frequently and the ability to reason and converse like a human being is functioning properly.  It feels pretty good, actually.  The joyous feeling of contentment that I didn’t have to work for; a quietness within myself that I didn’t expect.

I prayed for a peace in my mind.  It is so difficult sometimes, to focus on the most basic of tasks, but complex and comprehensive ones come easy.  I don’t feel that way tonight.  In a way, I feel like I am seeing my life, with few responsibilities and much freedom, for the first time.  I don’t know how long this feeling will last or if it will ever come again … but I am hopeful.

There has been a change of some kind, though at the moment, I can’t put my finger on it.  Something uprooted?  Something planted?  I don’t know.  What I do know is that I am not the same as I was a few days ago; I am less fearful and that in itself makes me stronger than I was before.  I don’t know what happened, but whatever it was, I prayed for it.  I thank God for His faithfulness.

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It’s raining, it’s pouring …

the old man is snoring.  I don’t know if he is snoring or not, but I have always been told, since I was but a wee child,  that he was.  Rain.  Something that folks in the East, Northeast and Midwest have had a fair share of this year and, it’s only January.  It’s easy to start hating rain, I suppose.  I know that it has thwarted a few things that I would have liked to do, but in order to appreciate it, one must look past the present situation of inconvenience and saturation to the beauty and bounty that water from the Heavens provides.

Rain is essential to all living things on the earth.  It fills up the creeks, rivers, lakes, wells, streams and it gives lifesaving water to the trees that I so adore.  I can only image the conversation the trees must be having, among themselves, at this very moment; knowing that their roots are full to capacity and there is excess to aid in the dry times that are bound to come.  They must be ecstatic even though there will be some, as in the human element, that will fall under the pressure that the reality of life deals them.  We, as the trees, begin to die the minute we are born.  This is a fact.

It is easy to decide that rain is a bad thing, but I love it.  I love the sound of it, the feel of it on my skin, the taste of it on my tongue.  It is such a beautiful thing, that which pours from the clouds.  It is true that, at times, rain decides to exhibit its power and influence; filling waterways well past their spilling points.  I don’t discount the damage it can do if it decides to go on a full-out tirade and at the same time, I watch, in amazement, at just what it is capable of.   A single raindrop, on its own, has little impact, but when paired with millions of others falling steadily; well, the result is astounding.

While under normal circumstances, without tornadoes, hurricanes or other brutal natural occurrences, rain is just …. well, it’s just rain.  Water that falls from the heavens and makes a sound that nothing else on earth can make.  How many people who will read this blog post will have a CD or some recording of a thunderstorm or rain for relaxation or meditation?  It is food for thought, anyway.

This is where the idealistic photographer steps in.  Yes, it can sometimes flood, but through the lens of my camera, it is astounding.  The wonder of nature as it shows its power is a beautiful thing.  Don’t get me wrong, I wish for no harm to anyone, but if it is going to happen anyway, I want to be a part of it.  It is during these times, when Mother Nature decides she is going to show off, that I am truly sorry I have a day job.  It takes everything I can muster not to pick up my camera, head out to anywhere and everywhere and say “to hell” with my job.

Reality, however, has a way of kicking me in the head and reminding me that it is prevalent in my life.  I, at times, hate reality and feel that it picks on me purposely just to remind me that I don’t have nearly as much control as I think I have.  What reality doesn’t realize, however, is that I’m not the one in control and it is picking on the wrong being.   When my experience and wisdom is cooked proper, don’t doubt for a minute that reality will have little bearing on where I will be or what I can accomplish.

In the meantime, I will listen to music that soothes me while the rain falls with torrential force and know that, when tomorrow dawns, if I am blessed to live, it will be a wonderful day; rainy or not.

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Isaiah 55:10 ~ For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater:

As a photographer …

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days like today are off the charts on the  list of experiences that I don’t want to miss.  It was simply my good fortune that the company I work for decided to open on a delayed schedule, giving me two extra hours.  Two extra hours on a bright, sunny, blue-skied morning that followed on the heels of a big, heavy snow.  As I look out my windows, I see that overnight, the entire world has been turned into a painting and I, being mortal, have it in my mind that I’m going to try to capture it; freeze it as it looks to me.  Hoping to do it justice.

I know when I’ve nailed a shot.  I don’t know a photographer who doesn’t.  Ansel Adams was quoted as saying “Sometimes I get there just at the moment God wants someone to click the shutter”.  He knew. That moment the shutter snaps, I am without doubt that even if nothing else I have shot the entire day satisfies me, this one shot will make every minute worth it.

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There isn’t always “that shot”, though.  Some days, there is a handful of mediocre photographs and nothing that stands out.  There isn’t that one; the image that is full of words and in the words within the image, beauty.  That’s what I strive for, what I aspire to do; at times, it is all I can think about.   If only there was more time.

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This day, the epitome of a winter morning, the kind of day I fantasize about; today, pure and simply, leaves me speechless.  Let the images speak for themselves.

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I thought I was prepared …

for the sheer depth of joy that would come with the total immersion of mind, body and spirit into the wilderness.  I wasn’t even close.  In three short months, I had forgotten the thrill of knowing the exhilaration of finding that there is nothing between me and nature except the air I breathe and my Pentax.   I had forgotten how awe-inspiring creation is when I can see it up close and personal.  I had forgotten just how alluring the smells of the earth in winter could be.

Today, however, I was reminded.   The sights, sounds and smells took me from my present self and put me in an altered state of mind.  One that thrives on finding out where the trail leads, then, when the trail has run its course, the adrenaline punching adventure of veering off to become one with the hills and valleys, the streams and creeks of my mountain; for today, it was on my mountain that I wandered.  My mind was peaceful, my thoughts were clear and my body strong as it responded to the challenges and physical demands of making my way through thickets and briar-laden brambles on steep, rocky hillsides.

The mind-numbing exhaustion of the past few weeks dissipated like fog under a summer sunrise.  With every step, I felt my energy level rise and my stress level fade into oblivion and it didn’t escape me that I can find myself in this same state of mind over and over; that nothing can happen to me in a week’s time that I can’t undo with a hike into places both known and unknown.  My mind is already full with thoughts of where I will go next week. I am blessed beyond measure by the simple things in life that God knows I have a need of.

Even now, I feel as though the energy inside me will simply burst forth, creating a display of light and shadow all around me.  I suppose, since there happens to be no other, more enjoyable outlet, I will expend that energy on laundry.  Pity.

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Psalms 96: 11-12 ~ Let the heavens rejoice, and let the earth be glad; let the sea roar, and the fulness thereof. Let the field be joyful, and all that is therein: then shall all the trees of the wood rejoice.

Friends come and go …

such is one of the intricacies of life.  Sometimes, the best of friends can become separated for one reason or another.   It is difficult to come to terms with such things, but there is no avoiding it.  Not everyone you expect to be there for you will be there for you.  It is best to learn this early in life so that later on, it doesn’t come as a shock when you realize that people fade from your life.

If you give everything you have to a friendship, you should be aware that the possibility of disappointment, betrayal, hurt and denial are viable options.  It happens.  It doesn’t mean that you, or they, have done anything wrong, but have simply drifted apart to the point that there is nothing left in common.  Having a conversation with someone you have nothing in common with is like being skewered by a porcupine.  It hurts everywhere, all at the same time, and the reason often goes unknown.   I would like to say it is not a reflection on ourselves, but sometimes it is.  Sometimes our selfishness and desire to know that our friends understand us gets in the way of understanding that they, too, need validation and understanding.

There are people from my past that I loved dearly, but haven’t spoken to them in years.  It isn’t because I didn’t want to talk to them, but that our lives took different paths and there came a time when there was nothing left to say.  I find that many people distance themselves from me because I am completely different from what they have become accustomed to.  I am about plain speech, brutal honesty and speaking my mind.  I am both weak and strong, both intelligent and ignorant and at times, a seemingly unworkable puzzle.  Often, the filter between my brain and mouth fails.  When someone asks me for an opinion, I give it.  Truthfully.  There are those who don’t want the truth, but an illusion.  I don’t do illusions.

It is enough, for me, to know that there are people who understand that I am not like them, not like their other friends, not like anyone they know.  That doesn’t stop them, though, from being there when I need them.  It doesn’t stop them from loving me when I yell, cry and meltdown right in front of their eyes.  It doesn’t stop them from asking questions that may possibly have an answer they didn’t expect to hear.  It doesn’t change who they are or how they interact.   They take it in stride and see it as no more than what it is.  Me being me.  Those are the people I cling to.  The ones I message in the middle of the night with random thoughts that, quite possibly cross a multitude of boundaries … at times, I get an answer, but, some days feel as though I am no more than a vapor in the wind; conversations deferred until they have the mindset to go one on one with me … They are the ones who hear what I say and accept it, although it may perplex them but they do it without judgement, advise or trying to fix me.  I’m not a broken doll who needs her arms glued back on, but, just someone whose mind sometimes goes faster than what the rest of me can keep up with.  It is a fallacy and unthinkable injustice to think that they, who give of themselves, do  not need the same.

It is an implausible thought to believe that our friends think of us all the time.  Maybe some of them do and just forget to say so.  Maybe they outgrow us and find that there isn’t any common ground left … sometimes, yes, but not always.  Our minds have a way of distorting things and making judgements that are unjust and just plain false and when we do that, we ostracize ourselves because of our imagined ignorance.

While it is true that there are times when I ask more of my friends than they are able to give; the ones who truly want to be in my life say so.  They tell me that I’ve pushed the envelope over the boundaries and need to take a step back.  I need, as much as I give, honesty when it comes to my dearest friends.  I don’t ask for unconditional devotion.  That is an unrealistic expectation and should be met with opposition, but I do expect honesty.

Our friends are not merely there to stroke our ego or soothe ruffled feathers.  If that is all they do, eventually, they will become disillusioned and separate themselves for our lives.  I have caused that a few times.  Been too much work and not, in the grand scheme of things,  important enough to understand on a level that may never be achieved.

I am thankful for my friends.  My dearest friends know who I am and if they don’t, then it is as much my failure as theirs.  It is, indeed, a bitter pill to swallow when you realize that someone has distanced themselves from me simply because I don’t fit the mold they have cast for a friend.  It took me years to find myself, and even now, I am still learning and as long as I live,  if I have my mind, I will continue to learn.

Yes, friends in our lives will continue to come and go, but the ones who are true will be there when you need them.  That is not a supposition, it is a fact.  So for the handful of friends that I have who are not daunted by my mood swings, months of dis-communication,  missed birthdays, forgotten anniversaries and, at times, bombardment of questions, accusations and needs, know this;  I am thankful for you.  And, when the time comes that I can be there when you need me, know without a doubt, that I am on my way.

Thankful for my real friends and, surprisingly to some, my family, and even more thankful that they know not only who they are and what moves them, but find that they, even if they didn’t realize it earlier, know who I am.  Being understood is one of life’s most cherished blessing and while many of us go our entire life without finding that bond, the rest of us realize that the blessing is astronomical.  I am grateful for my friends.  I am thankful that, though I am different, they accept me.  I find it hard, though I may want more, to ask for more.  I am curios in a way that only a Sagittarian can be.  I have wants and desires, but won’t bash my head against a brick wall to get fulfillment.  There will come a time when I will, because it is in my nature, move on.

I think it is safe to say that the “I want it yesterday” world we live in is a hindrance.  Not everyone follows those same rules, the code of immediacy is not their own. It doesn’t make them a bad friend.  It makes them dependable and loyal.  It is hard to wish for more than loyalty, dependability and honesty in our friends.   Asking more is selfish and self-centered and will, in time, result in the disintegration of the friendship.   When you ask for more than someone can give and then hold it against them, the burden is of our own design.  At times, just knowing, whether they say so or not, that my friends think of me on occasion is enough; sometimes it isn’t.  We all need validation on some level, need to know that what we have isn’t one-sided and wasted on those who don’t really understand us and have no desire to.  But there will be ones like that, in those times, who become water under the bridge.  We learn lessons that will help us be better people in the future.  I have friends that I talk to on occasion, but the connection is one that, irregardless of excuses, stand the test of time.  They know more about me than anyone and they are the ones, being honest here, who hurt me most.  It isn’t their fault, but my own unattainable expectations that play tricks on my mind and make me doubt when there is no valid reason to do so.

I am thankful for my  real, honest to goodness friends.  As long as they are in my life, in some capacity, I can deal with nearly anything.  I know their weaknesses and disappointments even as they know mine.  Such intimacy in a friendship is hard to find and should not be taken for granted.  Be a friend, a loyal, trustworthy friend, and inevitably, you will reciprocate the same.  It is the way the world works.

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Proverbs 27:17 ~  Iron sharpeneth iron; so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend.

Anticipation of its wonders…

nearly has me giddy.  It has been over two months since I have been out in the wild with my pentax, hiked a steep and winding mountain trail, sat on my favorite rock or stood in front of the falls.  I find that I am in serious withdrawal from the beauties and bounties of being alone in the midst of nature.  But the waiting is about to end.  After multiple injuries that kept me in a state of suspension on level ground, I am at the cusp of being released to return to my normal, weekend warrior activity.

The bone doc shakes his head at me each time I speak of climbing narrow mountain trails, scaling over rocks, holding onto trees to keep from falling backwards on steep paths and standing inches from the edge of a cliff just to get a vertical shot; he doesn’t understand that those things are as much a part of my life as the air I breathe.  He doesn’t understand that it is part of what sustains me. They make no sense to him and why, after all, should they.  I am part of distinct breed and we know what makes us tick whether anyone else does or not.

I long for it and longing is a very strong emotion.  I find myself thinking of the magnitude of loss that not having the hikes and jaunts every weekend have brought me.  No, it is not like losing a loved one or dear friend.  It is more like losing a cherished lover.  The envelopment of the wonder of nature is so complete that I feel untouchable when I am in the midst of it, held in the beauty and silence and soothed from every negative thought.  The silence of human voice combined with the chatter of nature is so alluring.  Setting up the tripod for long exposure shots, zooming in on a bloom, rock, leaf or whatever may catch my eye, is intoxicating to me; yes, I long for it.

It doesn’t matter what the good doctor has to say tomorrow.  I have been doing my own Physical Therapy and my shoulder is strong and ready to take on whatever comes my way.  I have already waited far longer than I wanted to.  I have exercised to way too many aerobics videos, practiced yoga until I can put my foot around my neck and into the opposite ear, lifted weights and performed hundreds of lunges and squats to keep my body strong.  I hate it.  Every single moment of it.  I don’t want to try to keep up with some bimbo that does things that make no sense and, regardless of how limber I am, I can only stretch so far.  I feel that I am well on my way to being a contortionists and warn my friends that they should not be surprised if they open a box and I am in it.

I have made an executive decision that I don’t really care, one way or the other, what the doc says tomorrow.  I am going into the mountain on Saturday.  I am going on a trail shoot and see what January in the mountains has to offer.  I have missed it more than I have the missed my dearest friends that I have neglected to keep in touch with.  Not great for their egos, but I’ve never lied to them before, why start now.  I think they know anyway; know that they take a back seat to the chance to get into the wilderness and see what waits for me there.  It’s why they are my dearest friends.  They understand me and, inexplicably, like me anyway.  Plain and simple.

While I still have a little soreness, the backpack will be a challenge.  But challenges don’t scare me, they inspire me.  So I’ll fill it up with water, toast-chee crackers, nekot cookies, a first aid kit, a few of my favorite lens filters and deal with it.  I’m already so excited about the adventure that everything else has suddenly become obsolete.  It just proves what I have said all along … I have a selfish bent.  And this Saturday, I’m playing the “me” card.  I have few responsibilities, when it comes to everyday weekend life, so being able to go where I please, when I please, for however long I please, is priceless.

Now to turn a complete 360 and change the subject entirely; I took out my Christmas tree tonight.  It was the first tree I have had in many years and the only one that has ever belonged solely to me.  I was apprehensive about putting one up at all.  I just didn’t want the past to become more a part of my future than it already is.  But I put it up, decorated it with only lights, and enjoyed it for over three weeks.  I now look out the unobstructed window and, with a regret I never imagined, miss my tree.  If I could have found a way to sustain it, I may have kept it up for months.  So soothing and comforting were the fading and blinking lights.  I don’t know for certain that I will have a tree next year as I doubt I will ever be as enamored as I was this year.  Taking back to myself what I had lost to sorrow, disappointment and plain disillusionment was one of the best things I have ever done for myself.  And I owe my dear friend, Missy, along with her young son, for picking out my perfect tree.  Many thanks in this shoutout to her and TAS.

Tomorrow is another day, and if I am blessed to live until then, I will embrace it and take it in as best I can.  My daily work has become a burden to me as I find my thoughts everywhere but where they should be.  It takes an enormous amount of concentration (which I am not know for), dedication, which I can  handle and people skills that though, I have a knack for, can’t find the passion that should be there.  In my heart, I am a photographer and writer; I am a nurse because I have bills to pay.  It didn’t start that way, but it’s how it ended up.  Anxiously awaiting Saturday when I will immerse myself in the beauty of winter.  I can barely sit still thinking about it.  That, in itself, speaks volumes.  That, in itself, defines a huge part of me.  My drummer, my march.  Selfish?  Yes, on some level.  Regretful?  Not a chance.  Bring it on.  I am willing and able.  No other requirements are necessary.  Praising God as I go and thank Him for all that He shows me.  I am blessed beyond anything I ever thought possible.  Yeah.

Little Stoney Falls, Southwest VA

Isaiah :12 ~ For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.

As our Gracie grows …

I find that watching her is one of my most wonderful blessings.  The years seem to have flown by and now, she is just a couple of months shy of her fifth birthday.  She can do whatever she tries to do, follows her sister wherever she goes and can hold her own (especially in the ones she starts), in a good old fashioned wrestle.  She has learned that pouting works with everyone but me and doesn’t even bother anymore.  She just points her finger at me and says things that I’m almost glad I can’t understand.  She has her own mind, her own will and her own ambitions.  She has her own way of doing things and is pretty set on doing it HER way.  Having to share everything and everyone with a sister who is cut from the same cloth makes like interesting, to say the least.

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When Gracie first came into the world, she was early.  Very early.  And she was almost immediately diagnosed with Down’s Syndrome.  She won our hearts so quickly, we didn’t really have a chance to absorb the fact that she had Down’s.  We prayed and God answered; she would touch our lives in a way that none of us, not even us optimists, could ever imagine.

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While she says many things that are amusing, there are two phrases she says that melt me like warm chocolate.  “Hi Nini” and “Love you, too, Nini”.  I’ve never once called when Gracie was around that she didn’t pick up the phone and say “Hi Nini”, whether she knew it was me or not.  I love that.  It makes me feel good inside to know that I am part of this beautiful child’s life.  I’m not the only one, though.  Ask anyone who has had the pleasure of being around her; she has a gift.  A gift of encouragement and light.  She never fails to bring joy to anyone who sees her.  It is rather awesome to watch.  She has a special light around her; one that makes everyone want to be near her … makes me want to be near her.  A light that makes even the worst of days insignificant when she puts those little arms around my neck.

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She has come a long way, our Gracie.  From barely hanging on to thriving and living in a world she feels safe in and isn’t afraid to explore.  She reminds me what I want to be when I grow up.  Yes, she is truly a blessing in my life, but by far, not the only one; not by a longshot. (If you haven’t read Watching Gracie Grow, read it here http://wp.me/p1CqmN-m )

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Psalms 100 ~  1 Make a joyful noise to the Lord; all ye lands.  2 Serve the Lord with gladness; come before His presence with singing.  3 Know ye that the Lord he is God: it is he that hath made us, and not we ourselves; we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.  4 Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: be thankful unto him, and bless his name.  5 For the Lord is good; his mercy is everlasting; and his truth endureth to all generations.

Officially now, into the New Year …

my heart is full of dreams, hopes and fantastical wishes.  My imaginings are more vivid than they have ever been and I feel that surely, I am closer than I was before to reaching that which stirs me.  Even as these pleasing thoughts fill my head and pump through the blood in my veins, filling every cell in my body, I realize, rather disillusioned, that they didn’t reach every cell.

In the background, a chill passes across the recall in my mind and I am, momentarily taken  back to last year.  It was a hard year.  A year full of sickness, injury, tragedy, death and loss.  Not just mine, but the people I know personally; my family and friends as well as those I simply ran across on any given day. I found myself in unusual circumstances and, much of it, even with my annoying (I’m often told) optimism which goes a long way in making me who I am, was hard.

It was harder on others I know, the brokenness they had to face, the loss  –  a dad who lost a brother, an aunt who lost a husband, a daughter who lost a daddy a granddaughter who lost a grandfather; all the same man.  And a friend who lost someone beloved to them, someone inspirational.  Friends, good ones, are irreplaceable.

Multiple people, my mother included, seriously injured themselves in a fall and I, myself injured myself moderately from two separate falls.  Patients come into the office I work and they are hobbling in on canes, crutches; with black eyes and busted ribs.  I fell on the curb.  I fell down the steps.  I tripped on a rug.  I slipped in water.  I got my feet caught in a cord on the floor.  I tripped over a Basset hound.  I find it a bit incredulous that I know so many people who had falls last year.

I’m not going to dwell, though.  I just thought it worth remembering, one last time, how many things God helped me through last  year and to remind myself that He’s the same as He was.

Now, back to more pleasing imaginings.

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