Guess who just blew in

That's right.  She's here in full force.  Miss Spring dances on to the scene with varied steps and rhythms around the country.  Bottom line: warmth, greening, blooming on the agenda each and every day.  Sure, we'll have to put up with allergies and storms, all part of the birthing process, but when the rumbling and sneezing die down, voilà, the warm seasons take up residence.  In all fairness, the cold and colder seasons have their fans as well.  Actually, I just love the changing of seasons.  Each one offers its own treasures and gives us perspective and appreciation for the season passing and the season ahead.  (Rather like life, eh?)  For now, though, we shall enjoy the renewed sunshine, sprouting buds and blossoms, and the ever-increasing opportunities for outdoor activities.  Wipe down the bikes and golf clubs, air up the tires and beach balls, dust off the jogging shoes and sandals, slip on the shorts and tanks tops, and clear the roadways and foot paths.  Watch out, Nature.  Here we come!!

Ahhh, the Irish

An Irish Prayer

May God give you... For every storm, a rainbow, For every tear, a smile, For every care, a promise, And a blessing in each trial. For every problem life sends, A faithful friend to share, For every sigh, a sweet song, And an answer for each prayer.

I spoke of an Irish blessing in my Facebook post today, so I thought I'd check for a couple on the Internet.  Sure and begorrah, as the Irish would say, I found a whole website full!  Delighted, I read each one, thinking all the while on their colorful and lively language, their positive yet realistic attitude, and their boundless energy.  Funny how so many people celebrate St. Paddy's Day, not just because of the green beer and endless parties, but because it represents a happy spirit, the heart doing a jig, so to speak.  I'm still looking for a particular blessing that ends, "...and may you be in Heaven an hour before the devil knows you're dead."  Now, we can all roll Irish with that one, don't ya think?  Top o' the day and the luck o' the Irish to ya, my friends.  Keep a bit o' Irish joy in your heart all year long.

Human spirit, alive and well

The pictures overwhelming and heartwrenching, the disaster in Japan (as with all disasters) refocuses our attention on the human factor.  We cannot fathom the suffering, pain, loss, grief, but we do witness the human spirit in full force, impressive and heartwarming.  Further, we see only a small portion of what actually happens.  Those who survive, those who volunteer, those who stay the course long after the initial shock draws the world's attention operate with humility and unassuming, limitless generosity.  I see the victims, devastated, dazed but undaunted, digging deep for a plan, a plan for LIFE.  I see the volunteers from all over our world, if not already there and helping, organizing for action, offering whatever they can.  Again, we hear and see reports, but the efforts are massive and long-term and something we should all celebrate longer than the fleeting moments of a news cycle.  Indeed, no shame in moving on and taking care of the tasks at hand, living our own lives, taking care of our own business.  After all, time does not stop, no matter the catastrophe.  Still, in this day and age of conflict and woes that beleaguer us all and a kind of disappointing nastiness that sneaks onto the scene, we need to remind ourselves that at our center lies the precious commodity of the human spirit.  No trade on the stock exchange, no line up ending with "priceless," no measure of any material currency can weigh its worth and power.  The best news?  It's in us all, and it rises to the top naturally when we need it most.  Let's capture the feeling now, connect it with a vivid image, and file it securely.  Then, when people start talking gloom and doom in our everyday lives, whip out that image and remind them and ourselves:  "We got this covered, thank you.  We'll find a way."

Spring in my step

This weekend we shall all "spring forward" and add sunny hours to our days.  I sit here in the early morning almost beside myself because I might get to ride my motorcycle to the RV Show on the OK Fairgrounds.  Ooooooo, big fun.  As you can tell, I'm easily entertained, a good thing, as Martha would say.  Now, if it's too cold or windy, I'll be a bit disappointed, but I'll just adjust my plans for the day knowing that SOON I'll be able to hop on Baby (motorcycle) or The Silver Streak (bicycle) or into my jogging shoes (no nickname at this time) and play, play, play!  Oh yes, spring means rebirth, and I feel like one of those buds poised to burst into bloom.  Look out world!  That's it.  Just thought I'd say it out loud. 

Hey, time for a poem.  This one's about autumn, but the spirit is the same.  Enjoy. 

Oh world, I cannot hold thee close enough!
Thy winds, thy wide gray skies!
thy mists that roll and rise!
Thy woods, this autumn day, that ache and sag
And all but cry with color! That gaunt crag
To crush! To lift the lean of that black bluff!
World, world, I cannot get thee close enough!

Long have I known a glory in it all,
But never knew I this;
Here such a passion is
As stretcheth me apart. Lord, I do fear
Thou’st made the world too beautiful this year.
My soul is all but out of me–let fall
No burning leaf; prithee, let no bird call.

                      —Edna St. Vincent Millay in God’s World

Love in the balance

"Ya gotta give a little, take a little
And let your poor heart break a little
That's the story of
That's the glory of love..."
So many have recorded this song, but I always hear Bette Midler's voice.  Maybe it's the context of the movie, but her rendition brings home the heart of the song.  True love, lasting love in all its beauty and sweetness and joy comes with pain and sorrow and stress and strain.  Ultimately, the struggles and even the failures allow us to see, appreciate, even recognize the real thing, so to speak, and hold onto it for all we're worth.  We know, too, how many kinds of love we're blessed to enjoy, and they all follow this truth.  Life in general is all about balance, knowing it, embracing it, learning from it.  Anyone who believes everything will be ginger peachy all the time hasn't really lived and is in for one disappointment after another.  However, we can all believe in possibility, take a positive attitude about what CAN be.  We all create our own personal atmosphere, an aura, if you will.  Love in all its strength even works to break through the negative; however, the positive attracts and nurtures love.  We have the power in us already.  Most of us have survived trying times and emerged better people, even happier people.  Why?  Ah balance, ah perspective.  We cannot know the true measure of our happiness until we experience sadness.  Heed the words:
"Ya gotta win a little, lose a little, laugh a little, cry a little...until the clouds roll by a little."  Know the truth, keep the faith, and invite love into your heart, fearlessly.     

Plugging in delight

A Facebook picture features a baby holding her bottle for the first time, sheer joy on her face, a video of a baby giggling hysterically as his father tears paper for him goes viral on YouTube, a dash of snow and children everywhere flock to a hill, any hill with sleds, pieces of cardboard, backs of refrigerators and suddenly the air vibrates with screams and giggles...no elaborate planning, no expensive gadgets, no deep thought required.  An element of human nature and totally available to us all, delight lives in our genes.  We crave it, seek it, need it, even though we sometimes lose sight of it.  At difficult times in our lives, we must learn to dig for it, to remember it.  How does THAT happen?  Well, connections mostly.  We do that automatically, file those moments that make us laugh and bring them back when we want them, when we need them.  A line from a TV show or movie, an ingenious commercial, a random comment by a friend or co-worker, a split second that struck a funny bone and set the room laughing, each one can help us heal, adjust our moods, turn a bad day good, not just for us, but for those sharing our air.  This power lies at our fingertips, at our nerve endings, in our brainwaves.  Shall we access it?  Shall we plug in delight?  (Catch the play on words)  Let's use this blog entry.  Whether you comment or not, take just a few minutes to think about your personal grin factor.  What always makes you smile when you hear it, see it, remember it?  Here, I'll give you one of mine.  In the movie, Steel Magnolias, M Lynn, devastated by the death of her daughter, just wants to hit something.  At this point Clairee pushes her friend Ouiser forward and says, "Here, hit this!  We'll sell T-shirts sayin' 'I hit Ouiser Boudreaux.'"  Within moments, tears of grief turn to tears of laughter.  Not only does this scene always tickle me, it captures the point and spirit of this entry.  Your turn...

A Simple Happy Truth

Surfing channels yesterday afternoon, I passed everything from prison shows to half-hour ads for floor clearners and exercise machines to ancient movies to extreme and ridiculous talk shows.  However, in the middle of it all came one bright ray of useful positivity.  After confirming it was NOT my projection lamp  exploding again, I lingered to listen.  Purposely ignoring the station and network, I took in a short rant on how America still has all the good stuff, ALL the good stuff.  Creativity, ingenuity, intellect, compassion, fairness and more, America has everything it takes to fix every problem we face.  Our people have the capacity to heal and strengthen the economy, to mediate conflicts and even stop wars, to care for the helpless and give hope to the hopeless, to educate our children and reeducate our adults, to refresh the American dream and stop telling our youth it's dead...and the list continued.  You're smart; you can add to it.  See what mean?  The power lies in us, in the way we do our daily business, the way we love our friends and family, the way we handle our own problems.  Now, the commentator pointed to politics as the only thing broken in America, and in a strange way, he wasn't blaming politicians.  Clearly, the system depends on raising money.  Anyone who cannot do so has little chance of winning a place at that table.  Well, you can look into that and see what you think.  My bottom line here is that positive outlook I found on a Sunday afternoon.  I do believe the American people have "what it takes" to heal what ails us, to move past the chatter and sound bites, past the biting and mindless sarcasm to real solutions.  Any regular, informed American knows this takes true compromise, shared sacrifice, and tapping into every aspect of our core spirit.  We remember what that is, don't we?  We remember that it is in ALL of us, yes?  Could we just take a few moments to celebrate that, to believe it, to embrace it, to move forward with it?  Like applauding to keep Tinkerbell alive, we must join the chorus of positive voices and encourage that lovely winged creature called the American spirit to fly, fly, fly!        

Mush!!

     As we wrap up a significantly snowy season, I flipped through my memories of winters past.  The frosty stories whirled back with sparkling stills and vivid videos.  I landed (and that will be an appropriate term) on one from my childhood in New Jersey.  Yes, for about eight years of my very early life, I was a Jersey girl.  I often tell of waiting for the school bus seeing nothing but white, the snow from the shoveled sidewalk stacked well above my head.  This story, though, involves a dad-constructed SuperSled. 
     Our house in Irvington, lay almost at the bottom of a long hill, perfect for slipping and sliding, on purpose, of course.  Now, we had our own little group of kids (four old enough to play in the snow) and friends from the neighborhood, and we could all enjoy winter activities like snowball forts and fights.  Sledding, though, was like Noah's Ark, two at a time.  My dad, always up for something unique, something he could build (although that really wasn't his forte) pieced together that SuperSled which could accommodate five to seven squealing, flying, slightly terrified children at once.  We reigned as the neighborhood sledding amusement park! 
     One day, with thoughts of Sgt. Preston of the Yukon (a TV adventure show) rushing through my eldest-in-the-group head, I lined up my crew of six plus one, smallest in the front and me, the fearless leader bringing up the rear.  In true Sgt. Preston style, I gave the loaded sled a healthy shove and hopped on, STANDING upright steady hands grasping the steering ropes on both sides.  "MUSH!" I yelled imagining sleek, muscular sled dogs pulling us across the frozen tundra.  Down the hill we sailed, passengers screaming with delight and me proudly guiding the craft to its final destination.  Very close to our house, on the street side of the walkway grew a formidable tree whose roots often disturbed and rearranged the concrete.  Below the deep snow where no one could see it hid a virtual ramp formed by the broken sidewalk .  At the height of our swift-sledding joy, BAM, we hit with jarring force and stopped on that proverbial dime.  Well, my passengers stopped, that is.  I went airborne, the length of the SuperSled and beyond.  Actually, I floated breathless, silent, serene through the crystal-clear air in one of those slow-mo movie scenes.  Luckily, I did not land head-first but rather slammed into the landing pad of soft snow on my shoulder and rolled another ten feet or so. 
     Once I cleared the flakes from my eyelids, I glanced back to my stunned crew still seated on the abruptly-halted SuperSled.  I scanned the front porch, hoping my parents did not witness what had just happened.  Boy, would I be in trouble!  Not feeling the pain of bumps and bruises yet to come, I scurried to check the fear-frozen children.  All in one piece and now laughing hysterically at my flight and in their delight, they hopped off, grabbed the SuperSled, and shouted, almost in harmonic unison, "Let's go again!!"  My face said, "No way!" and my body paused with it...for just a split second.  Soon, our whole gaggle giggled up the hill, sled in tow, leader hobbled, spirits undampened.  We took the challenge of the plummet from the summit at least ten more times with me safely seated for each one and a strategic yank on the ropes just before menacing concrete ramp.
     I recall the incident with great glee, little thought to physical wounds or even the dread of parental reprimand.  Nothing will ever steal the sheer joy of swooshing down that snow-packed path and launching into flight, fleeting thought it was.  Isn't that the beauty of memories?  We get to choose what we remember and how we remember it.  "Mush," I say, "Mush, and let 'er fly!!"  Come on, you know you want a ride.    

Gnome effect

Relaxing on the corner of my piano sits my very first garden gnome.  He's a happy fellow, face in hand, hat proudly pointed toward the skies.  I know he's wondering if he'll join the soon-to-be-blooming flowers.  Yes, that's where he belongs, yet I'm enjoying his whimsy right here in my living room.  As much I as detest dust, I love knickknacks, "gorgeous" items, if you will.  In fact, I often attach sentiment to them, each one sparking a memory, a moment, a happy note.  A recovering pack rat, I do save some things with little emotional significance or even practical use, but so many of my tiny treasures tickle me too much to trade them for a little more space on a shelf or a little less dust for my Swiffer.  When I walk into my garage, I often wave at my bicycles, motorcycle, golf clubs, and the array of "stuff" I still need to sort through so I don't toss anything of value.  I'll get to that sorting.  Meanwhile, tiny pieces of my heart, of my experiences, of my growing and developing personality and character lie safely waiting for me to rediscover them.  Might I toss some?  Be realistic and weed out, separate the chaff from the grain, so to speak?  Oh, I'm sure I will, but only after I savor the moment each might represent.  Am I a couple of bubbles off center, a sandwich or two short of a picnic?  You bet your sweet bippie, I am...and proud of it.  

A song for every occasion

"Whenever I feel afaid
I hold my head erect
And whistle a happy tune
So no one will suspect
I'm afraid..."
Well, in case you don't recognize it, that's from The King and I.  Okay, so some of my songs are old, but this one sets the tone for music in my life.  Now, I'll chime back in on this one, but I want to start another discussion here.  Does it happen to everyone?  Do songs pop into your mind when certain situations happen?  Do you sing out loud?  Do you have, whether your realize it or not, a list of oldies but goodies that constantly serve to inspire, capture your feelings, help make a point, or simply decorate a moment with just the right tune or lyric?  I guess we all have a favorite type of music, but my collection is very eclectic, thank you very much.  I remember when scurrilous thieves broke into my car and stole my CDs.  Oh, I was upset about being violated and victimized, but I had to laugh at what the thieves thought when they perused my collection.  From Barry Manilow to the soundtrack of Funny Girl to Nirvana and Eminem to three Christian Collections to Reba McEntire and more, all I needed was some opera to complete the bizarre array.  Serves them right, I thought.  Good luck squeezing money out of that list.  Perhaps they were just craving some fine music.  Anyway, back to our discussion.  What say you, my friends?  Let's talk music and its impact on our lives, on our moods...sing it, sistas and brothas!

Lucky me

A young man asked me today, "Dr. J., where do you get your zest of life?"  Now, mind you, I was merely setting up for class, shuffling papers, writing on the board, talking to myself (yes, I do that all the time).  I glanced up and smiled, wondering, "He sees zest?"  Well, he had been in my class for several weeks now, so perhaps I had exhibited some zest along the way.  I could see he was sincere and waiting for an answer.  After a moment of thought, I popped back, "I don't know.  I'm just a happy soul."  He chortled, "Well, I know that, but where does it come from, what makes you that way?"  How does one pinpoint that?  I know some of you who are reading this are happy souls too.  Have you thought about it?  Do you know why?  Do we have to know why?  Maybe people want to know so they can make themselves happy souls too.  Ahhhh, that could be it, but I'm not sure you can learn it.  I do believe you can work on it, even make it happen.  Me?  I'm healthy, have a roof over head, food in the pantry, great friends and family, much fun in my life, a job I love and so much more...why wouldn't I be a happy soul?  Have I had tragedy in my life?  Yes, but I'm alive and kicking and making the most of each day I get to enjoy.  Am I overly optimistic?  I don't think so.  I just choose to see the best, to believe the best, to trust the best will win out in the end.  Come on, my fellow happy souls.  Shout out and add to my lovely insanity.  Zesty much?  Let's share our secrets.