Category Archives: Inspiration

When Did the Right to Bully Become a Way of Life?

Posted on August 15, 2013 | Leave a comment

 

I think for many of us, when we think of bullying, the image that pops into our heads is that of a scrawny, bespectacled child handing over his lunch money to a bigger, brawnier kid with a henchman or two at his back. Deep down, we know that this scenario is sad and wrong, but we’ve seen it so many times either in movies or real life that we’ve slowly become inured to the idea. In the animal kingdom, this same scenario is common place where “survival of the fittest” is the rule to live-or-die by and the weak, with nothing to offer in lieu of, simply become lunch.

There are, however, other, more damaging ways to bully and I, for one, am tired of it.

Bullying

I have a friend, a smart, animal-loving, kind and gentle friend who also happens to be disabled. Her life has taken her down more than her fair share of rocky roads and now, in her later years, she finds herself in less than optimal circumstances, living in a very neat and well maintained mobile home in a park run by bullies; she is sandwiched in on both sides, tormented and harassed by bullies; she has been subjected to the worst kind of treatment by her neighbors which is both supported and encouraged by the park’s management, and she is represented by the worst kind of bully: an attorney who doesn’t like conflict, who doesn’t see the harm in letting the wolves circle and threaten and snap at her door and at her heels, and who has little compassion for his clients and even less understanding of the circumstances in which they find themselves.

We’ve set up a system in our society where those who are the least able to stand up for themselves are fair game to be preyed upon and victimized by the bullies as well as the system. We tell ourselves that there are agencies, both governmental and charitable, working to protect these people but the truth is, the burden of proof is on the victim and the process one must go through to get help is as threatening and uncomfortable as the bullying.

Do you need legal aid? Prove that you are destitute and worthy of assistance and maybe, just maybe–if you jump through our hoops to our satisfaction–and fill out this stack of forms, and account for every penny you have, and prove to us that you are not at fault, that you didn’t step one toe over the line, we’ll consider your case and get back to you in oh, say, a month or six weeks. Good luck in the meantime. As for legal advice? Keep your doors locked and your head down and don’t stir up trouble. Stay inside, avoid your neighbors, walk your dog after dark, don’t make eye contact or respond to threats and taunts, and have a nice day.

As a friend, rather than a family member, I have no legal ability to help my friend. I can’t schedule appointments, talk to attorneys or to the park’s management or the neighbors on her behalf. I have no legal standing, no caché, no authority to protect her. I do the best I can to encourage her, to try to pull her back from the funk and the abyss of loneliness and dejection. Her stores of energy and white hot indignation have long been depleted. She has her memories of what it was like to be whole and happy and a welcomed part of her community. But the truth is, the cracks through which so many people are falling these days as we devolve into a ruthless, selfish, terrorizing society are ever widening. And there is no one working to close that gap.

As the financial gap widens between the haves and the have-nots, so does the gap between the civil and the uncivil. When bullying becomes the norm–and we are this close to becoming a bullying society–we will be done as a nation of freedom and personal liberties. When victimization becomes standard treatment and we can no longer distinguish between bullying and standard operating procedure, when people feel that they have the right to bully rather than the right to protect, life as we know it will be over.

Look around you. That time is near.

If you have any suggestions for how to deal with bullying, please feel free to comment. As much as I love being a cave dweller, there are still some battles that are worth leaving my cave to fight.

A Thought to Ponder 

See this world as a free world, and see everyone in it as trying through their individual experiences to find their way back to that calling, back to that Source Energy. And even though there are billions of them going about it in a way that is different than you would choose, there’s no right or wrong way. In other words, bless them all, and get on with the only thing you have any power about, which is opening or closing your vortex to your natural state of Well-Being. —Abraham

We should be supporting and assisting each other, not judging and victimizing. The world will be a healthier, happier place when everyone feels supported and loved and accepted and allowed to follow their own path.

the path 02

 Photo by Chris Wood

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Jump!

Posted on August 6, 2013 | Leave a comment

Jump

My life has never been about putting down roots and staying in one place. It’s never been about making safe choices or tip-toeing out to the edge of the cliff to peer over the rim into oblivion. My life has been about jumping and leaping, soaring and flying, and, more often than not, crashing and burning. But therein lies the root of perspective. How high is high? How low is low? What does it feel like to be truly happy? What does it feel like to free-fall from perceived financial security to no income in the blink of an eye–by choice? It’s scary as hell; it takes your breath away; there is a profound exhilaration when the ability to sprout wings comes fast and furious; and it’s addictive.

Twelve years ago, I had a good job with a good salary in a city I loved. One day, I woke up in my comfy cave (yes, I had one then!) and decided that I needed a change. I quit my job, gave up my townhouse, put everything in storage, and hit the road, traveling across Canada and the western U.S. in a pick-up truck while I waited for the next big thing to come along and grab me. Since then, I’ve moved from Maryland to Ohio to Georgia, back to Maryland, and finally to Florida.

My brother asked me one time why I keep making these big leaps in my life and the only answer I could think of was this: It’s more fun to jump off a cliff than to fall off a cliff. It’s all about perception, really. I perceive therefore I am. I am what I perceive.

When push comes to shove, something clicks in my brain and I realize that I can either become the victim (slipping and falling while I go into shock and wondering all the way down what the heck just happened) or I can take control of my life and my decisions. For me, the act of jumping ignites a sense of all possibilities and potentialities rushing to the forefront, vying for attention. My descent begins to look like a good thing as I waver in the wind, adjusting my wings to land in a spot of my choosing be it soft, green grass or rocky terrain, in familiar territory or an alien landscape.

But I think the real answer to why I leap is really this: There is no reason to be unhappy–ever. I still find myself with the blues once in a while, but I know that I can change my feelings as easily as I can change my mind. Small leaps of the mind can be as fruitful as big leaps if you put your energy and intent behind them.

After all this time, having made great leaps and tiny jumps and displayed phoenix-like qualities more than once, I have discovered that I am the master of my destiny and when my spirit says “Jump!” it’s not usually a matter of how high but when.

Just for Fun!

Happiness in a VW

This one is for you, Topher!

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Home

Posted on August 2, 2013 | 2 comments

 Castle

There’s a webcam at Eilean Donan Castle in Dornie, Scotland. My daughters and I had been checking in on the castle for quite some time during our trip preparation, watching the tide move in and out, keeping tabs on the weather and the wind. Anticipating contact with our families back home, we set a date and time for our own webcam appearance. At the appointed hour, we waved and smiled and laughed, letting our families know we were having a wonderful time. In return, we received texts with confirmation that they could see us, a happy moment for the little ones and their mamas.

When we got home eight days later, I found that my husband had, indeed, used my office computer to watch us at the castle. I’d set it up so that all he had to do was click on the link and the webcam feed would appear. I guess I forgot to tell him to exit out of the site because when I woke the mouse, there on the screen was a frozen image of the three of us gazing up at the castle. I got the strangest feeling as I called my daughters in to look at us. Time had frozen in that moment and although here we stood in my office, there we were in Scotland, happily anticipating another week of joy.

I couldn’t bring myself to close the page. As long as the image remained on the screen, some remnant of me still roamed the hills, the battlefields, the castles far away. I still felt connected by some magical link to a land that felt strangely more like home than any other place I’ve ever been. I used to think that Santa Fe was the place where my bare feet tingled happily with the most home-like vibration. In Scotland, however, even through heavy hiking boots, I could feel the magnetic pull that begged me to stay.

Thunderstorms swept through last night, littering the yard with palm fronds and pine needles, taking down limbs and knocking out power. The image is gone. I knew it before I opened my eyes in the dark, feeling the silence of the house around me. It’s strange how even from the depths of deepest sleep the body senses change. I sleep in pitch black with the white noise of a whirring fan drowning out the creaking noises of the house settling around me. Something had subtly shifted, something tangible but untrackable in the haze of sleep and dark silence. I felt it. I am fully home.

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But for the Kindness of Strangers . . . (Who Shall Remain Nameless)

Posted on July 29, 2013 | 2 comments

 

Scotland landscape

Scotland was amazing! The landscape, the scenery, the castles, the people: all amazing! From the moment we landed in Glasgow to the moment we boarded the plane for the trip home, everywhere we turned we encountered open, honest, trusting people who made our dream trip perfect.

Well, except for the owner at the first B&B who, when we turned up early to ask for assistance in sending a message to our families to let them know that we had arrived, left us standing outside in the rain, gave us hurried and less than accurate directions to the library in Ft. William, the only place in town with wifi and computers, and a “come back later” before he shut the door in our faces. But he was the exception.

And the guy at the Shell Station in Aberdeen who was familiar with the Holiday Inn but couldn’t tell us how to get there. We bought a map from him and roamed the streets looking for signage that might point us in the right direction only to find that the road we needed was, coincidentally–or not, the road right beside the Shell Station where we had stopped for directions.

The Deep South Comes to Scotland

Okay, so that’s two people who were less than accommodating or kind. Everyone else we encountered couldn’t have been nicer or friendlier or more forthcoming with information and advice for three obviously American tourists. My daughters have very deep southern accents liberally sprinkled with “Yes, ma’ams” and “No, sirs,” so it was a delight to watch the looks of surprise on the faces of the people we encountered as they tried valiantly to translate the twang into a burr. My youngest daughter has a spectacularly funny story about asking a gentleman at the front desk at Airth Castle for a bucket of ice. (I’m sure you get the picture.) She came back red-faced and panting with laughter which ended in sheer hilarity with the delivery of the largest bucket of ice we’d ever seen.

As for the nameless part: no one in Scotland introduced themselves, asked our names, or offered their own. No one. In Glencoe on our second day, our waitress at The Holly Tree asked if we were staying close by. When I mentioned that we were looking for a place to camp, having decided against the deep dark forest of Glencoe Wood, she quickly offered us a free site on her father’s land “just up the road.”  We hesitated, thought it over during dinner, and then decided to at least check it out. The young woman seemed shocked when I asked her name and introduced myself and my daughters. With a blush and a smile, she said her name was Romie and quickly launched into detailed directions on how to find her father’s field. The site was brilliant, located on a strip of soft green grass that ran along a rocky beach. Despite it being populated by a herd of curious, excited sheep and bordered a cow pasture, we had a great first night camping. Romie was the only name we came home with despite having met people on trains and buses and waiting for planes.

Oh, and Liz, the wonderful hostess at the Fraser House in Inverness. Liz is from Australia and was kind and chatty and eager to please her guests. Actually, now that I think about it, she didn’t introduce herself at all. After explaining who we were, I asked her if she was Liz as I had hoped to meet the woman with whom I had been communicating by email. I was anxious to meet the person who took our reservation with no deposit or pre-payment required. “Come on over and I’ll save you a room,” she’d said.

Did I mention that the people in Scotland are open and honest and trusting? They are! And I felt quite blessed to be in their company and their country for ten glorious days. 

Just for Fun!

Ice Cream

One evening, on our way back to our B&B just outside Stirling, my daughter asked us to stop at Brewer’s Fayre so she could run in for “a small snack.” Expecting her to return with a candy bar or a bag of potato chips, we were shocked to see her come out carrying–with two hands–this huge  sundae containing several flavors of ice cream, chunks of chocolate eclair, nuts, marshmallows, candy, and chocolate sticks. When presented with the masterpiece, my daughter asked the waiter if he had a to-go container, to which he replied, “No, just bring the cup back when you come in for breakfast.” Between the three of us, we couldn’t finish the “small snack” but we washed out the cup and returned it the next morning–when we returned to the restaurant for breakfast.

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The Art of Being Me

Posted on July 12, 2013 | Leave a comment

I’ve been spending waaaay too much time on Pinterest lately! Is that a good thing or a bad thing? My sense of what’s okay and what’s not okay seems to be a little skewed when it comes to cruising through the pins. I find myself flipping through the Photography board and the Geek board with joyful abandon, frittering away time that could be better spent writing or editing or (gulp!) cleaning. (But that’s another story!)

My boards are beautiful and relaxing. I find it calming and inspiring to scroll through Abundant Beauty, my collection of pins that range from beautiful flowers to glorious sunrises to majestic moons. Photography has never been my thing but there is a newfound sense of joy welling up in me and I find that I have a serious urge to run out and buy a good camera. Or at least skip on over to Amazon and do a little comparison shopping.

Photography might just be the one thing that would get me out of my cave on a regular basis. Then again, one can take only so many shots of the moon rising over the ocean or dawn breaking through the palms. I’m already feeling the pull of a road trip out west and having a camera in hand might nudge that fantasy into reality. Or I can pull up Pinterest and look at mountain ranges from around the world without ever having to leave my comfy cave.

As I move through the boards and pins, admiring some, laughing at others, I find little pieces of myself scattered here and there. I’ve been told that it’s a great marketing ploy to pin photos as representations of emotional moments in my books. “Look for things that evoke the emotions you want your readers to feel.” So, I have boards for Ripple and A Solitary Life and Martin Vane Says Hello and within those boards are the thoughts and emotions I felt as I wrote and edited and worked to pull my characters into being. Each board is a peek into my soul as well as a hint of what lies between the pages. Each pin is a choice that brings to light a sliver of me.

I’ve discovered that there is an art to being me just as there is an art to being you. Your likes and dislikes don’t define you as a whole being, but I believe there is true insight into what really matters in our lives. I don’t pin every pin that makes me cry but I’m beginning to see a pattern in my pins, a true collage of what it is that inspires me and keeps me whole. There is so much beauty in the world that I will never get to see. But I can see it through the eyes of a photographer, amateur or professional, who like me, yearns to capture the moments of life that define me, inspire me, and make me who I am. There is an art to being me and I’m refining it every day.

Just for Fun!

SONY DSC

I’ll be leaving for Scotland on Monday. As you may know, I’ve been planning this trip for two years as a surprise graduation present for my oldest daughter. The Big Reveal took place a couple of weeks ago to the accompaniment of bagpipes. I guess that’s another thing that can lure me from my cave: bagpipes! (Or maybe it’s the man in the kilt. )

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Faith Restored

Posted on July 11, 2013 | Leave a comment

 

Wifi spoken here!

Wifi spoken here!

My faith in humanity was restored a little yesterday. I’m not a pessimist or especially paranoid about the future of the world, but I’ve had my share of human-related disappointments and OMG moments to wonder (more than once, I admit) if we are not indeed going to hell in a wifi enabled hand-basket.

On the rare occasions that I’m out and about in the world, I’m shocked to see so many people buried nose-deep in cell phones or plugged into some other device that effectively seals them in a (seemingly to them) private, protective bubble of solitude and estranges them from the organic interactions going on around them. Gone are the days of chatting with people in grocery store lines as they are, more often than not, chatting away with someone on a cell phone while the two year old in their buggy empties the contents of the candy rack onto the floor.

“My name is [blank] and I am a cellphoneaholic.”

My children and grandchildren–my adorable, beautiful, wonderfully talented children and grandchildren–have been hypnotized by their cell phones. They rarely look up.  Even the three year old is addicted. The first words out of his mouth on my last visit were, “Hey, Grandma,” hug and kiss, “can I hold your phone?” I was beginning to think that this is now the normal way to interact with people:  talk loudly, wave hands energetically while staring at the top of their head.

Enter my recently graduated-from-college granddaughter who arrived for a visit on her one day off from work. She’s gorgeous (seriously!), smart and very sweet. She drove two-and-a-half hours through bumper to bumper Disney-tourist traffic in Orlando, all the while keeping me updated on her progress (thank you, Siri!) for our first solo, post-grad, woman-to-woman visit. I was very excited to have her all to myself for the afternoon. And I did! I was thrilled.

We went out for lunch and talked–face to face, eye to eye. And I’m happy to say that I don’t know if the part in her hair was crooked or straight because I didn’t see the top of her head once. We talked and laughed about life and men and love, and lack, thereof; we discussed the importance of real communication in relationships both personal and at work; we discovered new things about each other that would never show up on a Google search and had a great time just being together.

Hope!

So, here’s my good news for the day: there is hope, I think, in the future of a constantly jacked-in world. It is possible to have a continuous conversation without the need to check out each and every ping or buzz of a cell phone notification. My granddaughter is living proof! She checked her phone discretely while I went to the kitchen for water. She put it away when I sat back down and engaged in meaningful conversation until she left seven hours later. I have to say, I am impressed, and happy, and content. Faith restored.

Just for Fun!

Without my Cell phone

Yikes!

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Finding a Happy Medium

Posted on July 9, 2013 | 2 comments

(And I don’t mean the kind with Taro cards or crystal balls.)

 OMG!

Have you ever been zipping along in your daily life, just going about your business thinking all is well and life is great, and then suddenly catch sight of yourself in a mirror or a window or a photograph and think, “What the hell happened?”  Freaky, isn’t it? That happened to me last week. All I can say, to quote yet another granddaughter, is OMG!

I have this image in my head of who I am and what I look like. I don’t think it’s unrealistic to say that most of us carry around in our heads, if not our wallets, an image that we define as “me.” We see ourselves in the mirror every day but the person in the mirror is not necessarily the person that we see in our mind’s eye, the strong, vibrant self that looks back with confidence–until the blinders come off and voila, there we are, the real “me” that we present to the world.

I am a Cave Dweller, after all!

My days are most often spent within the comfort of my cave. I don’t greet neighbors on a daily basis; I don’t entertain friends or have weekend company. I see family occasionally. I go out to lunch once a week (okay, sometimes I go). I go to the grocery store (when I have to) but I don’t think about how I look beyond brushing my teeth and hair, putting on clean clothes and a dab of lip gloss. Clothes are not my thing. I’ve been wearing the same two pairs of jeans and the same brown t-shirts (I have six) for quite a while now. They fit, they’re comfortable, and although sometimes I notice the jeans feel a little tighter than usual (damn that dryer!), I don’t think about how I look. I guess I focus on function and utility in my apparel rather than aesthetic appeal.

I guess it’s time for a reality check. While I’ve been snuggled in my comfy cave, writing, working, focusing on the virtual rendition of me, I’ve allowed the physical me, the one that appears in photographs, to atrophy. I’ve allowed tunnel vision to set in, seeing myself as a productive person, functioning and vital from the neck up (well, including my hands), while ignoring the needs of the rest of me.

It’s all about the focus.

I need to find a happy medium so that I will, once again, be a happy medium rather than a not-so-happy large. It’s not a matter of size, really. It’s about how I feel having focused for so long on one aspect of me rather than on the entire package of me. I need to find a way to get the exercise I need while still feeling productive and connected to my work. When I’m away from my computer, I’m thinking about what I could be and should be writing. When I’m writing, I don’t feel guilty about not working out, not watching TV, not cavorting with friends.

So, how do I find a happy medium without changing my productive routine? It’s a challenge but one I’m up for. I think. I guess I’ll just have to tape that not-so-flattering photo of the real me on my monitor as a reminder that there is more to life than writing. And then I’ll have to go look for that other thing or those other things that will offer a happy medium of fun, fitness, and life.  It’s time to stop, take a breath, and figure out a way to integrate mind and body more fully. Happy mind, happy body. Happy medium.

 Just for Fun!

 Stop

 

 

 

 

 

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In Search of Patience

Posted on July 8, 2013 | Leave a comment

“Patience and fortitude conquer all things.” Ralph Waldo Emerson

As I think about writing and life and growing older, my mind turns to patience: the idea of patience, of what it means to be patient, to the virtues of patience. Really? Is patience a virtue? Or is that what we tell ourselves while we (actively) wait for something great to happen, for our lives to bloom, for success to finally find us in our most withering moments?

 “He that can have Patience can have what he will.” Benjamin Franklin

Patience 01

As a small child, I had a cat named Patience. I named her myself. I don’t know that I even understood the concept of patience at three or four years old but I understood Patience as she sat by the fire-pit in the backyard waiting for rats to skulk in from the field; waited for me to join her each evening, finding my place beside her as I sat down to wait for my father to come home from work. We sat there together by the ring of ashes as the sun went down, my face and hands, more often than not, dirty with the play of the day, and her face and paws torn and scarred from battles new and old. Patience was my one, true childhood friend. From Patience, I learned patience.

 “Patience is the art of hoping.” Luc de Clapiers, marquis de Vauvenargues (died at 31, famous for his aphorisms and his friendship with Voltaire)

and “Hope is faith holding out its hand in the dark.” (George Iles)

“The two most powerful warriors are patience and time.” Leo Nikolaevich Tolstoy

I can see that. I have my own on-again-off-again relationship with time as it slithers away fast as a snake or drags on while I wait and hope for good things to come. Patience can only be a by-product of waiting, of finally coming to realize that pacing and fretting and stressing does absolutely no good at all, that finding a balance of calm and acceptance is the only sane answer to the twists and turns of life.

My new favorite quote from Pinterest.

My new favorite quote from Pinterest.

We can only be patient with what happens for us– and I mean for us rather than to us. I believe the Universe acts for us and it is our response to getting what we ask for that puts us in victim mode, thinking that life happens to us. (That’s just my humble opinion.)

“Patience is passion tamed.” Lyman Abbott

. . . with a whip and a chair.

“Patience, n. A minor form of dispair (sic), disquised as a virtue.” Ambrose Bierce

I think this is my favorite. It sometimes feels like it all comes down to this, despair disguised as patience. We have our moments, all of us, when having tamed our passion we slip into despair of ever having what it is we want most in life. But rather than wallow in it, we let the frustration turn to something good and deep, belief in ourselves, in our dreams, in the value of our lives, and find from the wells of hope and fortitude within us the one thing that will help us overcome: patience.

“Patience is the companion of wisdom.” St. Augustine.

And wisdom is, I hope, what we get as the result of a lifetime of sucking it up and  making lemonade.

Just for Fun!

Tree on tracks

So, you’re chugging along on an old weathered but familiar track when suddenly nature happens. Beauty or impediment? Now what?

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Life’s Too Short

Posted on July 7, 2013 | 1 comment

Yellow Rose-001

 

We all have to make choices in our lives about who we want to be, what we want our life to be like. Sometimes, those choices feel like they’re out of our control. We put our faith in others to be a reflection of who we are and what we want to be. We lose sight of ourselves, of our mission and life goals, and follow the herd to the closest, easiest watering hole.

Life’s too short to spend even one moment questioning our choices. We have to move forward into being who we are and living the life we want to live.

Be you. Live your life. And have a glorious Sunday!

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Fear of Falling

Posted on July 6, 2013 | Leave a comment

 Scotland Forest

My daughters and I are leaving for Scotland in nine days. I’m thrilled. I’m excited. I’m terrified! Dreams of falling have begun.

In the midst of travel planning, it’s not unusual for me to have dreams of falling. I’m not really afraid of heights. I can climb a ladder or a cliff (and back down) with the best of them, but there is something about traveling with my family–with my children in particular–that jump-starts in me a deep maternal fear of falling off the face of the earth.

As I closed my eyes last night, I held in my mind a beautiful vision of deep green forests and panoramic Scottish vistas. Just as I was about to drift off to sleep, the terrain changed and I found myself at the edge of a cliff, about to take a step into thin air. I could feel my daughters behind me, talking, laughing, not paying attention. My eyes flew open and I sat straight up in bed as every photo I’ve ever seen of the craggy cliffs of the Scottish Highlands flashed before me. We have to pay attention, I thought to myself. We have to watch our footing and keep an eye on each other. I slept fitfully the rest of the night, tip-toeing around the fear that hovers over me.

Several years ago, I traveled to the Grand Canyon. It’s a thrilling site and for a moment, I wished that my kids were with me to see it. It was December, the rocks around the gorge were shiny and slick  with ice, and little kids skittered and scampered right up to the edge, hung over the wide-spaced bars or crawled under to get a better look. I had to go sit in the car to catch my breath. It wasn’t the height that bothered me. It wasn’t even a fear of falling–not me falling, anyway. It was the kids dancing so precariously close to the edge and their parents blithely watching that made my stomach knot and my head ache. I vowed then and there to never, ever allow my children or my grandchildren to go to the Grand Canyon.

Selfish? Yes. Crazy? Probably. But I could see the headline in my mind: Entire Family Wiped Out in Grand Canyon Fall. I could see it: a grandchild ventures too close to the edge and slips. My daughter reaches for the child, her sister reaches for her, I lunge for them both and we topple over the edge with the rest of the family right behind us, arms outstretched, fingers grasping. Yet, despite my seemingly irrational fear, I’m taking my daughters to Scotland for a ten day romp through the Highlands. Go figure!

Maybe it’s just a cave dweller’s natural trepidation about leaving the comforts of home. Maybe my fears are the result of millions of years of maternal instinct forcing its way to the surface from that deep-seated paleo mind. Whatever, to quote my sixteen-year-old granddaughter. We’re going to be careful; we’re going to have the adventure of a lifetime; we’re going to have a blast! And if we fall, it will be the coolest fall of all: falling in love with Scotland.

Just for Fun!

Bubble 02

An outdoor, see-through comfy cave. I want one!

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