Jilted Bicycle

This abandoned bicycle has been propped against a tree near the path I walk on.

I don't know much about bicycles, but what I see is that it is red and yellow, no visible rust or broken parts, the seat looks pretty good although worn, the chain intact, child-size.

I wonder about its reasons for leaning against this particular tree. Was it left half-way home by an exhausted rider? Or by a youngster who could claim it was stolen and request a new one?

For the last four weeks, I have seen it as I take my morning or afternoon walk. Usually it is standing erect, but sometimes lying sprawled in the shade as if it is growing sleepy in the heat.

Has it been viewed and tested by others going by? Or only questioned by me?

Four weeks is a long time. Would this bicycle survive alone in  another neighbourhood? Would it have been picked, been carried, been ridden away to a new home? Would it have maintained its solitary stance for this long near you?

You can call me naive and foolish. You can call me poetic and silly.

But I like to think that it has been relaxing, waiting patiently for its rightful owner to miss it, or for a deserving child to come by and pedal it to a new parking place at their home.

Stay well, stay kind.

Today's Shadow on the Wall

Sitting in the late afternoon shadows as they spread across my living room, I saw this beautiful image appear on my wall. Why is it that sometimes it looks different?

The shadow that could be you or me or anyone we know. The non-descript, non-gender, peaceful face as it turns away. Looking where? Perhaps, towards tomorrow. Today's shadow on the wall shows me the promise of turning to a new day, leaving our baggage behind. Towards the hours ahead, starting anew.

Today it looks content to me. There have been days when it did not.

Although our past experiences, our judgments, and our shadow follow us wherever we go, We decide what to take from today into the new hours. (Tweet This)

How differently we all see life! Through our own private lens, the one we've brought with us from yesterday. We need to spend some time thinking about our shadow. (Tweet This)

We see the world through what feels true to us, 

and that dictates both what we notice 

and the meaning we read into it.

Lisa Cron

We can isolate ourselves or we can reach out. We can celebrate together or cower alone. It's not easy to make a change. But we can.

Each one of us sees the world differently, we accept and react based on our experiences. We notice or we ignore. In our homes, in our workplaces, walking in the park, we take a different piece of those moments into our tomorrow. Which ones do we take? We get to choose. We get to contemplate.

That shadow can be our friend. Our companion. It can show us all that we want of our tomorrows.  


Contemplating life with today's shadow on the wall. (Tweet This)

How Small a Part of Time We Share

How Small a Part of Time We Share

The shadows are getting longer, the heat of the sun is subsiding. Some things are left undone. That's just the way it is.

I talked to someone older and wiser today. She reminded me of some important facts, that we need to remember How Small a Part of Time We Share. She reminded me that we need to use that Time wisely. 

• We never feel that we get enough time. Whether it's time to sit quietly on our balconies or precious time with each other. Choose carefully. Respect yourself, your moments, your sense of calm. You don't need to like everyone. Or at least, take a 30-day snooze from them. It seems that even facebook allows that.

• Manage with what you have, mix it up so that it becomes your own. Don't you love my thrift store find of greenery that never needs watering? There's no need to torment yourself. Make it up. Be creative. Enjoy. It's your life.

• Sometimes the unexpected get along perfectly well together, a frog and a bunny side by side. No one can tell you who will cross your path next. Everyone has something to teach you. Even if it is to teach you to keep your distance.

Accepting the Magic

I wrote quite a brilliant piece in my head as I was walking this morning.

But you know what happened, don't you? The ideas floated in my head for nary a moment or two, before they disappeared altogether.

I became distracted by the workers who had driven their truck onto the walking path as they trimmed the trees. How many more would they cut today?

I walked a little further up the hill to see if I could identify what was being built on the corner. Such an interesting shape, large, one floor with small windows on one side. Two floors, larger windows on the other side. What will it become? 

The brilliant, magical words departed.

Accepting the Magic; Courtesy Pixabay - itspinballtime

The muse vanished.

The thoughts that were meant for me, swirled around like hard to catch autumn leaves, then landed on someone else's doorstep. I'm sure.

The magic that comes to us needs to be captured and clung to, wrung out. It needs to be spoken into our phones, imprinted on our cameras, painted on our canvas, knit into our clothing.

The dreams that arrive, in pale blues and ivory, in stark blacks and reds are ours alone. Why do we ignore them thinking that perhaps they will sit and wait for us to pay attention?

Why do we hide from what brings joy to our life, postpone until our easy and mundane tasks are completed? (Tweet This)

Why do we look with envy (and sometimes scorn) at those who wear ripped jeans with their pearls?
Think that we are too old, fat, curvy, or responsible to just be silly? 
Why don't we go to the park and sit on the grass before it is covered in snow? 
See the pandas before they leave our city to go back home? 
Or rest, be quiet and accept what is searching for us?

Why must we be so sensible?

Accepting the Magic

The ideas that we notice mean something for us. They spark a thought, a dream, a plan. In such a busy world, why did this idea call our attention? (Tweet This)

What is it that we are meant to take as we pass by? (Tweet This)

We'd be foolish to dismiss what we notice too easily. 

Now tell me. How do you find the magic?

If you would like to hold on to your magic, you would enjoy Austin Kleon's book, Steal Like an Artist. It's a winner!

Moving Pieces

How do you feel when you are starting a new project? You think you have everything in front of you, but often because you are just starting, you are overwhelmed and it feels like it won't work out. You convince yourself to wait. The Moving Pieces are a mystery.

Once we get going, we discover that we don't have the password, or are missing a part (it could even be an ingredient). Sometimes we need a new connecting piece and have to get in the car and head to Staples or Michaels or the hardware store.

The very act of stopping can throw us off-kilter. It's hard to get our momentum back, maybe we'll just do it tomorrow instead, there are more urgent things to get done, maybe we'll just watch one more YouTube to be sure we've got it right. Maybe we'll sit on our sofa and climb under a blanket.

Moving Pieces though belong together. The pieces may lay in our cupboards, our counters our hide-away places. If we're stubborn enough, we can leave them there for years!

But eventually...


We decide to gather all the parts together, we research what needs to be done, we ask our favourite expert (an uncle, google or a book we've hidden away) for help. Rarely does it come together on a first try, and often our efforts need more practise.


These pieces of mine have been floating in my head for a long time. I pretended that the Moving Pieces could lie dormant and maybe I would do different projects entirely. Because this one scared me! (There are so many ways we can fool ourselves.) 

and then I questioned myself.

What a crazy idea.
I'm not creative enough.
I can't do this.
What if..it's a disaster, stupid, ugly.
What if I fail?

But these Moving Pieces intrigued me, they called to me, they wanted to be put together. (Tweet This)

So here they are.

My first attempt at a painting I did some years ago.

and all my Moving Pieces.

Let's see what they can do together!

We all have ideas that we've put aside. Tell me about your experience with Moving Pieces. (Tweet This)

Trust - How We Keep It

I was listening to an old rock and roller today. He talked about his manager walking away with millions of his dollars. I saw a young woman recently put her hand in the bulk food bin and take a handful of cookies. You've seen it too - the cyclist that screams around a corner without giving a warning bell or shout-out.

Trust - how we keep it or break it is always up to us. But first, we need to notice it.

Trust - How We Keep It

There are so many easy ways to break it.

From the relatively harmless showing up late for a meeting to the heart-wrenching showing up early to find your spouse...

A man who doesn’t trust himself 

can never really trust anyone else.  

Cardinal de Retz

We trust blindly sometimes and don't trust other times because of some long-ago event that scarred us. We hand our hearts and money to strangers but don't praise often enough the good deeds of our neighbour. He too has his problems but he continues to sweep off our front entrance whenever he does his.

In Limited Vision, you can read about what we see.

What's Real? shares thoughts on intuition and what we don't see.

We live each day treating others by what we learned to expect of them. And they do the same. (Tweet This)

What value do we put on those who stand up to their commitments in spite of their own difficulties?

If they've always been there doing their 'thing', that's exactly what we trust them to do. Even if they are the one who always shows up late!

At Home Retreat

Life is the past,  the present and the perhaps.

Bette Davis

If you read any of the same articles I do, you too might be drawn to the Retreat. But once again if you and I are at all similar, you haven't yet ventured on a bona fide Retreat.

You haven't packed a bag and road-tripped to a condo overlooking the bay. Or jetted to an ocean-side cottage to write your novel.

You don't have the means, the time, the energy or the courage to meet a bunch of strangers to share your passion. People that likely you will not see again.

Here's an alternative for you.

Today my husband left early for a long road-bike trip with some friends which wouldn't bring him home until late in the day.

Today would be mine, my At Home Retreat.

Saturday mornings are usually rushed, you might have read about our yoga class earlier. But today was different, I made my tea and returned to bed to read Annie Proulx's Barkskins: A Novel.

It is a heavy 700 pages and needs to be propped on an extra pillow. Ah, today I could concentrate on the tangled story that spans several decades. It allowed me to think of the various kinds of families in the world, how each has the potential to create or destroy the members. Retreat equals drink tea in bed and relax.

Distracted into thinking, my unfinished jewelry pieces caught my eye. What would they look like with mixed colour beads? Bending and twisting with ease. No rush. Retreat equals time to be creative.

Hunger. Baking. Blueberries.  
Yumm! A favourite recipe given by a colleague from a long time ago, Ann B. No fail, she told my 22-year-old self. 

And she was right. Not once over the decades in between has this muffin recipe failed. Blueberries, chocolate chips or almonds and poppy seeds. You can add whatever you like! No fail. Thank you Ann B. wherever you settled on Vancouver Island. Retreat equals reminiscing. 

Retreat does not mean not doing for me as you can tell. It doesn't mean sitting for endless hours in front of a television or swiping on Pinterest. Retreat means pausing, feeling the thoughts I put aside on Monday, Tuesday and during the rest of the week. Retreat means moving slower, picking up, cleaning up, wiping down. Slowly.

Retreat means turning on the fan, pointing it towards you because you notice all of a sudden that it is hot and stuffy and mid-afternoon. 

You are quiet, and you can hear your heartbeat, you remember You.

You re-charge, you re-call, you release. You make peace.

You know more about less. And less than you thought you knew.

You hear the fan and it sounds like an ocean, you smell the muffins and you could be at a Paris bistro, you heft the book you are reading and you are on the cliffs in Acadia.

Your At Home Retreat has taken you everywhere and brought you to the center of Alone. It has returned you to your heart.

If you give an At Home Retreat a try, let me know what you find out. (Tweet This)

This is what my At Home Retreat gave me. (Tweet This)

The Ordinary Role Model

The passage of time can be a scary thing for most of us. We all know people who don't want to admit their age as seniors even if it gives them a discount at the movie theatre or the fashionable "grandma" who wants to be known by a different name so that no-one thinks she's that old.

I met with a friend today who is a handful of years ahead of me. I won't give her age because sometimes she reads my words here! She is fit and enjoys her life, which she feels is no different than anyone else's. She's worked hard, saved her money, looks forward to her next adventure and maintains friendships in a wide circle of people. I look up to her. She's a role model for me.

The Ordinary Role Model

She hasn't allowed the loss of her life-partner, the distance of miles from her only child, the lines on her face and some long evenings spent alone to keep her from being happy.

As you might have read in my earlier post she is also someone who decided much earlier who she is. She created a habit.

The interesting thing is that we each can get our motivation from a different source.

It doesn't matter who we are, what we do for a living, or what our circumstances might be in this moment. For me it could be someone who stays active (I'm currently following the Tour de France each morning while I eat breakfast!), for you, it could be someone who just joined the local choir, someone else might be encouraged by an entrepreneur or a volunteer at a homeless shelter.

My friend was telling me that she had performed at a recent line-dancing event. One of her fellow dancers was 89 years old! "She's my role model", my friend told me.

We all need encouragement and someone to look up to, no one is immune to falling into a funk. My friend showed me that if we want to continue to grow, and live a life of contentment, keep an eye out for a role model. They are who they are. Often our role models don't even feel they are doing anything extraordinary. (Tweet This)

Perhaps today, we could pay special attention to the words we use, our actions and how we engage in the world.

We never know who's watching us and sees their role model.(Tweet This)

One More Time Can Make a Habit

                                   

One More Time Can Make a Habit

Consider these two gents who meet at least as often as I am on that path and talk in their native language. They move to a silent symphony, with arms up and down, sideways and in circles.

Then they sit on the same bench each time. They tap their laps and then their heads and continue their song.

How long have they been doing this, I think to myself. Do they also meet on the days when I don't walk? What is their habit?

I see a lady walking with a different dog quite frequently. One day my curiousity can't be contained and she tells me that she fosters dogs who are waiting for a permanent home due to some circumstance. The particular brown lab puppy that is dancing at her heels is the subject of a divorce. Neither party can accommodate this sweetie right now. So this walking lady will keep her as she has many "orphans" over the years. It is who she is, it is her habit. (Tweet This)

My husband and I went to the Calgary Stampede (The Greatest Outdoor Show on Earth) yesterday. We saw first-timers, tourists, and those who knew which building to go to for the experience they wanted. We saw the young moms pushing strollers and the elderly with their walkers. 

Were the youngsters forming a habit? I hope so. Because as time goes on, they will have so many stories to tell! When I looked at the elders, I had to think, how many years have they been coming? What memories did they have of attending over the years? Perhaps they reminisced of going with their own young children or holding hands with their sweetheart one special year.

Each day whether we are walking or sitting, laughing or bored, our habits are formed. Before we know it, we become them. (Tweet This)

Each day I see those who struggle to be mobile or to keep their minds clear. They do it not because it is easy for them but because somewhere along the line they decided that this is who they are. This is the habit they are going to keep.

One More Time Can Make a Habit

                                     

If you have a goal of strength or survival, of friendship, of giving support, of not complaining, of not over-eating, of staying clean, of taking care of yourself, please do it today.

It's a good thing to do. One more time can make a habit. (Tweet This)

I'm Not Really an Expert on Anything and yet I'm Happy

To survive in today's world it seems that you must be an expert on something. Only then, do you garner any attention. You must profess to be the "go-to" person in your niche.

Well, quite frankly I'm sick of it.

My email is inundated with tips on every imaginable subject, from being the best networker to gaining one zillion likes on your latest post. These messages basically say that you've got to be the best or no one will love you.

"You need to be an expert." No wonder that our children are suffering from anxiety in grade one, and others are panicky about having the perfect wedding. Oh, and don't forget about getting the "forever" home even if you can't quite afford it.

Terrible Photo!
I'm Not Really an Expert at Anything

Guess what folks, life is not perfect. And the sooner we all know that the happier we will be.

Here's a secret for you. I am not really an expert on anything but it doesn't prevent me from being  pretty darn happy on most days.

It's time for us to not always want to be the best. We need to smile at our failings and love each other because we're all trying every day.

In matters of calm - I've been known to be judgmental and speak under my breath. And it's not always kind although my face is still smiling.

On the walking path - yes, I can hold my own for speed. For a short while. Because there are times that I much rather stop to take a photo or I get distracted by a group passing by. And every half-marathon I do I start to get bored at kilometer 16 or so. Every single time.

Eva S. - a story of my first "Canadian" best friend

Rummaging through a box of old photos, I found this one on the weekend. My friend from more than 50 years ago, Eva Szypulewski.

I haven't seen Eva since then, haven't heard a word from her, know nothing of what became of her. Eva and I met in grade 2 at Immaculata Elementary School in St. Laurent. We were both new immigrants and if memory serves me, she was Polish. Two little girls, new to the ways of Canada.

She might have had a brother, but now I'm really pushing the limits of my memory.

When I moved to the "suburbs" after our brief friendship, there was no way to keep in touch. It was the sixties, things were different and families did not travel for distances to allow their children to maintain play-dates.

As time went on Eva grew sweet and small in my mind. But now at the age that we are, you start to remember things that meant something to you, even if you were just a child.

A birthday party at the apartment where I lived, a velvet dress, walking together to school alone for many blocks. A girl named Karen Smith who took great delight in pushing me on the ice my first winter and Eva getting mad at her.

All of us in our tunics and white blouses.

Lorraine, and Brenda, cousins Patti and someone who even then was considered noticeably pretty, Maureen and an Italian girl who stood out almost as much as me. And if you remember them, they had an impact.

Do you still have photos of people who you knew years ago? (Tweet This)

Do you wonder what became of them?

It's worth the time to remember. Because these people, even if it was in grade two, had an effect in creating who I became. Such tiny pieces of memories that formed a host of stories that I tucked away for safe-keeping.

If Eva reads this, I want her to know that I remember her. That although decades have passed and she likely wouldn't remember me now, she really was my best friend back then too.

Take some time and sit. Think back. Remember, it's all inside of you. Smile at the story of your first best friend. (Tweet This)

Now tell me about your old photos and what they mean to you. I'd love to know for a future post.

Keep looking. When you find it, make it better.  ©

Yesterday

I can't go back to yesterday

because I was a different person then.

from Alice in Wonderland

We all know that we can't reach back. Even if those moments have been captured in a favourite image that hangs on our wall, the attachment we have is based on our emotion of that event. A daughter's dance recital, a son's new job, the feelings that are wrapped around that memory.

Yesterday

We may sigh with the satisfaction of knowing how it felt but the warmth of the sun, the quiet hum of the distant lawnmower, the joy (or fear) on your child's face as they made their way into a new chapter of their lives, well, they're gone. They are quickly replaced by new events, new treasured moments, new books, new movies, a new something else.

Yesterday no matter how much it swelled or broke our heart lies behind us. (Tweet This) It might have built us into something better or left us stranded on an island of isolation. What we do with yesterday is up to us.

It was our teacher and if we were listening it gave us a chance.

to forgive

to reach out

to question

to love

to appreciate
to learn

to throw away anger

to pay attention

to repeat or not to repeat

Because today's yesterday has served its purpose if it was done well. (Tweet This)

Now leave a comment and tell me, which lesson do you wish you'd have learned a long ago yesterday?

Keep looking. When you find it, make it better.  ©

Incident Distraction Reaction

We’re spending our day without thinking and then an incident occurs. It could be a child that has fallen off his bicycle and now has gravel in his knee. Or it could be the closing of the department where you have worked for sixteen years. 

Incident Distraction Reaction

Incidents have a way of happening. You’re not expecting them. For the most part. Because we all like our lives to float along without the gods of disaster noticing us.  

If we just continue to do our thing the cake that’s halfway through baking for the first order for your new birthday cake business, would not be a problem. You’d simply turn off the oven and get your gravelly kneed child to Emergency. But that is not how we humans are designed. 

Depending on how the rest of our life is performing, we might grab that son-who’s-just-like-his-crazy-father and scream at his dirt covered face because we are afraid of how much worse it could have been. Or you might raise your zen-like self off your yoga mat and speak in a soft comforting voice. (I'm only guessing that more likely, you’re somewhere in-between.)

Because we’re distracted in the life we’re floating through, don’t forget. We might be busy, but it's our boat, our life, we even believe that we are in control.

Courtesy Pixabay - Ben-Kerckx

Our days are planned, we have a checklist and we’re determined to plug right through. There are things to be accomplished at home, at work, for your aging parents or for your sister who’s finally admitted that her daughter is an addict. When and how can you get your stuff done if you now have to spend two hours in an Emergency waiting room? You get a chance for a reaction.

Whom are you going to call for help?

Then as it turns out, it’s a slow day for accidents and your son realizes that this incident could garner him some ice-cream on the way home and is seen by a Doc almost immediately. And then it's up to you what your reaction will be.

The Stripe of the Lion

It is never too late to reform,

as long as you have the sense to desire it,

and the strength to execute your purpose.

Anne Bronte

Courtesy Pixabay - djsudermann

We have all heard of stories of people who have turned their lives around…but deep down do we adhere to the adage “you can’t change a lion’s stripes”. Yes, I did say lion, and we all know that lion's don't have stripes.

There are millions of books which offer a learning opportunity for anyone on the growth path, or someone wanting to improve their finances, their physique, or eliminate their over-cluttering habit. Do we help another change instead of following their accustomed path?
Or does it scare us for many reasons?

We might read the book, listen to the podcast, repeat the words but do we often put what we've heard into action? We'll get to it ...next. And next rarely happens.

So when we see someone start to change, it's uncomfortable. We know them the way they are.

When we listen to someone suffer from a remark they feel was pointed to them, or whine about the way things are, what do we do? Usually nothing. Because that is who they are. That's the way it's always been.

We count on the lion to stay the same. We don't expect them to have a bolt of understanding and become someone new. It takes time. And patience for both of us.

Little steps, forward steps, backward too. Pacing along the perimeter.

We are learning something new also. About ourselves.

Courtesy Pixabay - LoveallArtsof Pictures

We know that the caged lion can be angry, can retreat with angst, and growl in our face.

For this reason, we usually step back. We may offer the words, the extended hand, which say we understand. But then we withdraw. There are bars in cages for a reason.

We like the animal we know. We are still afraid of lions, whether we see them developing the signs of change or not. We don't want them to get better than us.

We don't want to get bitten or left behind. (Tweet This)

Do we support each other as we change our stripes? (Tweet This)


Keep looking. When you find it, make it better. ©