Managing Stress...Is It Really Possible?

In a word...NO! It's impossible, so you might as well stop trying to. The day may start peaceful, or it may not. The week, the month, the year. What is your breaking point, and how do you "manage" it? Can you predict unforeseen events? A lazy co-worker? How about a "deadline" at work that comes out of nowhere? What about a sick or misbehaving child? Many work from home now, but what happens when you have to make a trip to school to pick up a sick child and you have a flat tire? These are stressful events that just pop up, and we can neither control nor manage them. Right? So the doctor says to get rid of some of the stress in your life. HOW DO YOU DO THAT??? Great question!

Sure, do your deep breathing. Did the stress magically disappear. I doubt it. We still have to deal with whatever caused the stress in the first place. And here is where the magic happens. We CAN manage our peace of mind. We can manage how we approach every situation, every day. How? Just by the way we acknowledge its existence. It can be seen as an opportunity, or it can be seen as an obstacle. We can approach the stressful situation with a calm, sound mind...OR we can approach it as just more stress in an already stressful day.

How do we manage our peace of mind, you ask? Perspective. That's how. Let's look at the simplest example. You woke up today. Do you know how many people didn't? Stay with me now... For those still breathing, what country did you wake up in? Not all countries have freedoms, much less opportunities to become a better wage earner. And what about war torn Israel and Palestine, and Ukraine? If you woke up in America, you won the lottery!

Not to be condescending, but did you wake up with a roof over your head? Not everyone did. Is there a car sitting in your drive? Many don't have their own transportation. Do you have a job? Many don't have. For various reasons, true. And we can speculate about that all day long, but it still doesn't change the fact that you DO have a job. Along with the possible stresses it brings with it. Or should we say, "along with the possible opportunities" it brings with it?

I suppose the point I'm trying to make is that there is so much more going right for us today, than what's going wrong, but we've been taught to focus on what's going wrong. Am I right? Even before we rolled out of bed this morning, a lot of good was happening in our world and in our lives, and there's so much to be thankful for. So...wouldn't you agree that the main remedy for stress is gratitude? We all could us more gratitude. Right?

May I suggest a few things to help us get our gratitude on?

1) Spend a few minutes every morning of your day, every day, thinking about what you're thankful for...your spouse, your children, your parents, your house, the things you have in your life...your purpose, your job, your co-workers, your pets, your eyes, your lungs, your heart...anything you are thankful for. They are gifts that we are not guaranteed tomorrow. As the saying goes, that's why they are called the "present."

2) Be grateful for everything you have in your life. Focus on what you DO have, and not what you DON'T have. We had a paralyzed from the chest down, friend, a very long time ago. He's gone on to be with his Creator, now. But while living, after a horrible accident left him paralyzed, as we visited with him while he sat in his wheelchair, I asked him how he was managing the stress of a forever changed life. His response? "I focus on what I CAN do, not what I can't." Profound. Right?

3) I know you may be going through some really tough things right now. We do have those mountains that need climbing, every now and again. But let me challenge us all to, every time those stressful moments come up, go right back to gratitude and make our brains think about all the good things that are going right in that moment...not the bad, or like I like to say, the "not-so-good".

Many of the things we consider problems and major stressors are not really such a big deal. "Walk a mile in my shoes." I know. However, what I consider real stressors come in the form of losing a loved one or having something happen to a child, or spouse, or dearly loved one. Those are real stressful situations. When my sister was diagnosed with a rare condition that took way too long to diagnose (she went through a LOT of painful experiments), THAT was considered a bit stressful. PSP (Progressive Supranuclear Palsy) was the final and accurate diagnosis. Trapped inside a body that had no ability to control any part of itself. Her very intelligent, compassionate, and strong brain could command all day and all night, to no avail. All signals stopped at the base of her skull where the spinal cord relays the jobs to the body that need doing. Nothing could be passed on to her seriously beautiful body. It slowly consumed her, beginning at her feet, so she knew what was happening at all times, and she faced it head on. She relied on the things she COULD do (and her amazing husband), until she could no longer do them. She was a prisoner in the truest sense of the word, until she was returned to her forever home. I can only imagine the level of stress my brother-in-law endured as he watched and helped her along her journey. Kind of puts things into perspective, right?

I guess my point would be to not treat everyday stresses as if one our loved ones is dying or has been diagnosed with a terminal illness. Don't do that to yourself every day. Put things in perspective. Most things are just not that big of a deal. There is a solution to every problem if we just breathe deep and look at the problem as an opportunity instead of a deal breaker. We have soooo much to be grateful for!

Wrapping this up, please indulge me with one more bit of encouragement. Health is our biggest asset. If we lose that, we pretty much have nothing. If our lungs are working properly, then we are winning! If our heart continues to beat as it was created to do, then we are winning! If our brain continues to feed us information and grows in knowledge with love and compassion at its center, we are winning! We don't have to live another day stressing if we choose not to. Let's choose to be thankful regardless of what this life throws our way. Plus...stress keeps us from experiencing real health. Right?

With all my love (most of the time 😉) for all of God's Creation...here you will find me, in Mary's World.

The Girl Who Walks...Episode 4

It's been a minute (three months to be exact), since I've shared any experience with the girl who walks past my house on the daily. Well, almost daily. Daily, through the heat of the summer and when the day didn't break so late as 7:15 AM. During the summer months, she was out before the sun came up, usually around 5:45 AM. But now, as the colder months have set in, it's rare to see her out before 8 AM, and on some days she doesn't show up at all.

Today, she seems different, some how. A little more relaxed, as if her fear has been conquered, and the mace she used to clutch tightly, now is only an extension of her hand. Still, I wonder if the years are catching up with her. The questions in her eyes tells me she may have more on her mind these days. At least at this moment. Perhaps a bit pre-occupied, if you know what I mean. I've always thought her to be reclusive, but you know what they say about still waters, yes? They run deep. She is a curious soul for sure. And she has peeked my own curiosity on more than one occasion, as you well know. I have shadowed her a lot of days, almost as a protector would. I think she knows. 

Back from the this mornings invigorating walk, I'm still thinking about the surprise she pulled on me. The route took a very unexpected turn. As she neared her usual hill to go down and then back up, her pace never wavering, she went straight ahead instead of making the turn. I knew she was up to something, because she was entering a whole new dimension to her otherwise flat line existence. She IS becoming braver! 

Once she stepped over the roads that intersected, it was as if a whole new community emerged. I knew this. She didn't. I wouldn't say they are the rich and famous, but they certainly have a very different life style than she. Her neighborhood was like the slums, or on the "wrong side of the tracks", compared to where she was headed. How she would handle it was still unclear. 

Don't misunderstand me. She does live in a very nice neighborhood. But, have you ever consciously experienced the differences between daylight and dark? Well...that would be sort of what it is like when entering this particular neighborhood. Houses are double to triple the size of those in her neck of the woods. Christmas lawn decorations are, well....different! My walking girl's yard looks nice and all, but more earthy, woodsy, than this particular neighborhoods. Gold is everywhere! Gold (large gold) reindeer, gold doorway trim, gold Santa Sleigh, gold lights, gold tree ornaments, gold strands of cords that trim areas of the yard, and illuminate once the evening unfolds and takes over where daylight left off.

Her pace slowed as she briefly examined each homestead. She looked happy. Thoughtful. Even peaceful. Misty rain began to gently enfold her as she opened the umbrella. It was if we were walking together at that moment. Sharing the beauty of the stillness of the morning hours, and the comfort of seeing through another's eyes as humanity blends during this time of year. All celebrating in some fashion or another. We are different, yet alike. A common thread runs through us all. Many are unaware of it, many depend on it. Would you like to offer your insight as to what that common thread might be? 

Wishing you all a very Merry Christmas and a New Year that is filled with light, beautiful reflections, and fresh perspectives. May you always be aware of opportunities that cross your path. 

Breathing in the goodness of our God, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

What Does Light Have to do with Darkness?

I can't believe it's been a full month since last sitting at my computer for anything other than official business. But, alas, it most certainly has been. Why? Because my mind has been entangled with the busy time of business. Constant social media posting I felt needed to be done, in order to launch a very important jewelry line, that gives rescued women of human trafficking a means to support themselves. With that, I've been focused.

But today, as I sat on our back porch enjoying the lighted Christmas Tree that is snuggled in a corner just behind a small swing, made even more beautiful by another (much smaller) lighted tree just in front of it, I began thinking about the forgiveness of wrongs that we have committed, or have been committed against us. The one and only...Jesus Christ of Bethlehem, Israel was the one who has freed us from those wrongs, if we can accept it.

The words, "You are forgiven," are much more than mere words. When we speak these words, they can free prisoners from guilt in an instant. When we accept this gift of forgiveness from the Father, we are compelled to become conduits of forgiveness for others who may have wronged us because we also were forgiven when we least deserved it.

I get it. I do. Why would we want to forgive a wrong that was intentional? I suppose we each have our own need to reason it out. For many years I could not, would not, forgive the one who altered my life. He didn't deserve it. I wished the very worst would come to him. The problem with that kind of thinking, with harboring it, nurturing it, is that it keeps a very dark presence inside of us that is trying to hide from the light that was instilled inside us while we were yet inside our mothers womb. It simply cannot be done. Light will always dispel the darkness and we must look at that dark spot, examine it, as we face it. It's always poking its head up...

How can one serve two masters? Matthew 6: 24 says it's not possible, because we nurture one and hate the other. I agree. I always hated that I felt so "evil" towards the man who took my innocence and continued to hold me captive until I bowed to his authority, while "serving" the One who rescued me from such a dark existence. It took many years to realize the one holding me captive was also controlled. Controlled by hate, insecurity, and hopelessness. His actions were coming from something so deeply imbedded inside him, his only release was to put them on another. I was that other. 

When God showed me that, I was able to forgive him, just as I had been forgiven. Forgiving someone doesn't mean you have to allow them back into your life. It just means that now, your heart can receive all the light that it was intended to have. I won't deceive you and say it was an easy road. It wasn't. We have to CHOOSE forgiveness. I am a free woman because I chose to forgive, even if it took me way longer than it should have. I continue to forgive when it's needed, for all wrongs committed against me, whether intentional, or accidental. I Corinthians 13:5 says (when speaking about love), it "...keeps no record of wrongs."

We have been given a power that would be impossible had it not been for God's sacrifice.

Receive and give it generously and often. Freedom is never easy, but is so very life giving! 

Leaning into what God has blessed me with, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

A Message From the Grave

I thought I was invincible. Mostly...but this past week I was proven wrong. I have been (for the most part) a very healthy gal. But, once again I needed reminded that in the end, it isn't MY strength that keeps me going. Have you ever heard the saying, "There but for the grace of God, go I" that was penned by sixteenth century English Reformer, John Bradford? (He probably translated that from I Corinthians15:10) Just a guess...

It's amazing how grateful one can be for health when not having it for a hot minute. Grateful for strength to move from one space to another without having to crawl to get there...once we've been shown we're not the one in control. We like to think we are. And most days we're allowed to believe that we are. Until that slimy unseen enemy takes us down a notch or two. Get this: I actually thought my throat was dry from sleeping with my mouth open! I think it was more of a solid HOPE, 'cause I didn't really believe it, either. I just tried to convince myself. So, I put off the hot salt water gargles and honey mixed with cinnamon doses. Wrong move, Mary. Wrong move.

It took 2 days of "dry throat syndrome" to lay me flat. I wasn't expecting this. Was surprised by it actually. I slept for the better part of 3 days while my trusty Vicks Vapo Steam filled my room and DayQuill and NyQuill filled my body. Dennis came through from time to time to make sure I was still on this side of Heaven. He's a good man. 😉 I called him on his way home from work, yesterday, around 2 PM asking for a Chic-fil-A Sammy and Fries. I was on the mend! Today, day 6, I feel like a new person and am still wide awake after having been up since 11:30 LAST NIGHT!!!!! Oh, man...16 hours up and eyes still wide open. 🥴😳

If you were one of those who tried to reach me during this time, please forgive me. When I FINALLY looked through my emails, I pilfered through to find those of you who are actually my clients, and hopefully, I responded to everyone. I really don't know what time you may have received either a text, or an email from me, but I couldn't trust just how long I'd be conscious. Middle of the night, I'm guessing. Just not sure. 😁😉 Hope it was understandable...😂

It can't go without mention, however, how wonderful it felt to get out of the house. Even if it was just to go to the grocery store. It felt as though I'd never been sick. The air was fresh, the wind whipping up every now and again, and the cool 45 degree weather was perfect. I managed to get stuck in traffic on the way home...long enough to enjoy the beautiful colors the trees are putting out for all us passersby. Another reason I love change. All seasons have their beauty, and God gave us 4 to enjoy over the course of each year. Three months for each season. Just long enough to keep us from getting bored. Isn't that great?!!!

Thank you, dear clients, for understanding and for rescheduling! Thank you for not believing I'm invincible.

Can We Handle the Truth?

Today's blog post is inspired by a post I saw on a friends Facebook timeline. He had shared it from a FB Page, called "The Revival". The script has always been one that pierces me because of how many times I've ran across people who think wrongly of how the savior of the world was crucified. Every time, I always think, "If they only knew!"

So, today, I'm sharing a modified version of the post (I've taken some of it away, and added some to it), so as to make anyone aware, that truly wants to know, the reality of the cross of Jesus Christ. It's not what many have chosen to believe, simply because of what they've read, and what they've not read. Please grab a coffee, or whatever drink helps you relax, take a couple of minutes and read. WARNING: You may experience some discomfort...

Scientific Death of Jesus:

At the age of 33, Jesus was condemned to death.

At the time, crucifixion was the "worst" death. Only the worst criminals were condemned to be crucified. Yet it was even more dreadful for Jesus. Unlike other criminals condemned to death by crucifixion, Jesus was to be nailed to the cross by His hands and feet.

Each nail was 6 to 8 inches long.

The nails were driven into His wrist, not into His palms as is commonly portrayed. Had they been driven into his hands, the weight of his body would have caused the nails to tear out between his fingers and would release him from the tree. The nails had to be placed where they could not rip through the hand. The wrist was the perfect place. Also, there's a tendon in the wrist that extends to the shoulder. The Roman guards knew that when the nails were being hammered into the wrist, that tendon would tear and break, forcing Jesus to use His back muscles to support Himself so that He could breathe.

Both of His feet were nailed together. Thus He was forced to support Himself on the single nail that impaled His feet to the cross. Jesus could not support Himself with His legs because of the pain so He was forced to alternate between arching His back then using His legs just to continue to breathe. Imagine the struggle, the pain, the suffering, the courage.

Jesus endured this reality for over 3 hours.

Yes, over 3 hours! Can you imagine this kind of suffering? A few minutes before He died, Jesus stopped bleeding. He was simply pouring water from his wounds.

From common images we see wounds to His hands and feet and even the spear wound to His side... But do we realize His wounds were actually made in his body. A hammer driving large nails through the wrist, the feet overlapped and an even larger nail hammered through the arches, then a Roman guard piercing His side with a spear. But before the nails and the spear, Jesus was whipped and beaten. The whipping was so severe that it tore the flesh from His body. The beating so horrific that His face was torn and his beard ripped from His face. He was unrecognizable. The crown of thorns cut deeply into His scalp. Most men would not have survived this torture. And...he carried the cross he was to hang on, after the beating!

After hanging for 3 hours, he had no more blood to bleed out, only water poured from His wounds. The human adult body contains about 3.5 liters (just less than a gallon) of blood.

Jesus poured all 3.5 liters of his blood; He had three nails hammered into His members; a crown of thorns on His head and, beyond that, a Roman soldier who stabbed a spear into His chest..

All these without mentioning the humiliation He suffered after carrying His own cross for 1 1/4 miles (approximately), while the crowd spat in his face and threw stones. The cross was almost 67 pounds (only for its higher part), where His hands were to be nailed.

Jesus had to endure this experience, to open the gates of Heaven, so that you and I can have free access to God. He gave all of himself for me. For you. How can we refuse the unconditional love He offers?

I think it might be simply because we have never experienced anything so selfless, it causes us to wonder if it’s only a fairy tale.

As someone who has walked on both sides of dark and light, I assure you, God’s sacrifice for us is no fairy tale. It is indeed, very real. Once you experience it, there is no denying it...

As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World

Tangled Memories

Most of you that know me, know by now that I decided to face my fears and begin the journey toward health around the first part of June. Not that I've been sick. All my life I have been a very healthy person. Some would say my mental health was in question, but not I. Of course not. *wink *wink. But with doctors orders and strong encouragement from my girls, I finally faced the fear of being alone while simply walking down a lonely, empty, street.

The last couple of mornings the temps have been in the low-mid 40's. Soooooo awesome!!! Especially if you are one that takes early morning walks every day. The summer temps were challenging, to say the least, but I never deny a challenge, so walk I did. Which made these Fall temps embraced without resistance. 

Today, as my legs began to feel numb, and my toes felt as if they were freezing together, I was reminded of a time that was so very long ago. It was during my childhood years when we were outside much of the morning hours AND early evening hours during the winter months, tending to the herd of cows, horses, and pigs. Mom, and a couple of my sisters tended to the chickens and the 2 dogs, along with all the house hold chores. I was so envious of them, since they were allowed time with mom and the types of chores she tended to. I did get to spend a little time with her during the summer days, by helping plant and harvest a very large garden full of everything needed to sustain life, and we gathered eggs after feeding the chickens, and slopping the pigs, while my brothers tended to the hay field and helped out at the sawmill. Most of my time, however, was spent helping dad and doing chores that I felt were meant for humans much stronger than myself. As I got a bit older, like maybe 9 or 10, my mind didn't change about that. That was when I "got" to go to the sawmill and either doodle sawdust or tend to the cut-off lumber pile. Some days, I even went to the log woods to help fell trees and get them loaded onto the back of our flatbed trailer. Maybe that is why my upper torso is so solid with large biceps and a thick chest cavity. 

During the winter months, I would wear 3 pair of jeans (one over the other) and 3 pair of socks that helped my feet not only fill oversized shoes, but also kept frostbite away. Protection was needed for the hours we had to spend in the cold weather that a small person should never have been required to (just my opinion...probably Mom's too). But we did survive. All of us. Even though I'm pretty sure there were times we wondered if we would.

One of the things I remember, as if it were yesterday, was when we finally made it back to the house and began the thawing out process. We had a large pot bellied wood stove that stood in the living room, meant to heat the whole house. It didn't, but at least we were out of the elements. My memory is the pain I felt while getting out of my boots shoes, and socks so that I could warm up next to the fire. Once the attire was removed, my stiff, frozen feet slid ever so gently next to the stove. My toes (all of them) were always so cold they were stuck together. The pain was significant as they thawed. It hurt so very much, but as the blood began to circulate to the tips, the pain became bearable until it was completely gone. That was my memory today as I walked in 42 degree weather, which is much warmer than my barnyard days. Still, it caused the memory of just how much worse it could be.

Filtering through memories, here you will find me...in Mary's World

The Story of My Life: Little Much Afraid

The struggle is real, I kid you not. Today, on my morning walk (about 15 minutes before sunup), the fear was brought front and center as God was showing me glimpses of my existence during the years between little girlhood and big girlhood. Okay, fine. Adulthood...

I had asked Him why my first response is always fear. Distrust. Skepticism. Even though I thought I had relinquished my self-serving, and very self-protecting nature, to His way of seeing life, this crazy fear was deeply embedded many years ago. It's been there since early childhood and grew exponentially as I grew into adulthood. It seems to always be fueled and ready for action at the least little occurrence. It's most likely the reason I'm so jumpy and if you startle me, you should expect a blood-curdling scream that will cause the firmest skin to stretch.  

Time alone during the early morning hours has given me a breath I didn't know existed. Not only physical breath, but I would say even a bit of spiritual breath that renews me from the inside out. This morning felt like a gentle lasso had been dropped over my head and lovingly caressed my shoulders as it poured into me the assurance that I am loved. I felt important to a loving God, and suddenly remembered His promise of never leaving us or forsaking us. I've known this  since early 1974, when I gave up all rights to myself, as I wept uncontrollable in front of a large family Bible (that was never read, by-the-way). Until I became desperate. At the end of my human strength and my way of doing life, I allowed Him in. I think I've written a blog post about that day. About the way God got my attention through His written Word. Through only 2 verses. There was no searching, just flat out communication that put a finger on my situation and how to solve it, that also brought me to my knees. It would be in the archives of this very blog site. 

Truly, He's only as far away as the breath we breath. And, for me, it doesn't depend on how my attitude has been, or what opportunities I've missed, or my reclusive habits that want nothing more than to just live my own life without someone telling me what I "ought" to do, or not do. How I'm "so" whatever. Or "too" whatever. I feel so small, so easily. Insignificant, unimportant, without merit, misunderstood so often. I knew I needed answers from the One who knows the whys. Answers of how to rid myself of this lurking fear that always wants to exaggerate itself and bind my mind so I can think of nothing else.

Today, there were clear answers that I've known all along, but haven't been able to face. From the times of fear induced "play" in my early years, to the commanding presence of a very lost man who felt it his duty to beat me into becoming what he wanted (needed?) even if it made no sense at all. But there was so much in between those years, and beyond even, that only served to confirm there was no-one trustworthy. Other than one woman who was my physical protector, who had herself seen things she shouldn't have. There were a couple of others who fell into the category of trustworthiness, but my sister Becky, was who I depended the most on. Maybe because she was only 4 years older than me and had been my constant companion during our childhood years.

Today, I waited until I could see to put one foot in front of the other, before traipsing out of the house. It was still darkish, street lamps glowing, and sky very overcast. I know the route like the back of my hand since it's one I've walked for almost 4 months...113 days to be exact. Well, I have changed the route up a bit from time to time, but still know it quite well. What would have worried me, not even 6 months ago, was fear of the unknown. The thin shadows of roadside bushes, trees, driveways. The eerie glow of lamp posts in neighboring yards that failed to shine into the shadows. But, not today. There was a tiny twinge when I first left the house, but it laid it's head back down and relaxed, freeing me up to listen. Really listen.

The days are getting much shorter now. And cooler! And I do love the weather the Fall season brings with it. My walks are getting longer because of it. And faster. I feel great, being outside! For as long as I can remember, I've been a "house" person. Just stay inside where the atmosphere is controllable. Sounds sort of like a prison, doesn't it? Even though I have a really great life, great home, people who love me wholly, my relationship with myself hasn't always been the best, because of those pesky feelings of unworthiness. 

The early years of discipline taught me respect of others, as well as a great work ethic. But it also taught me that I wasn't worthy of love. Maybe that's one of the reasons I am so in love with the One who created me. I know His love is unconditional and that whatever journey I take, He will walk through it with me. He knows the brokenness of humanity. He was a recipient of it. He understands all my innermost thoughts. My anxious spirit, at times, and always brings me up higher.

As always, here you will find me...in Mary's World

The Girl Who Walks Series - Episode #3

She got a late start this morning. The sun had already risen as she walked past the house. It was barely 7AM, but the streets were awake and beginning to hum. It was so unlike her to allow the shadows to disappear before stirring...

Today would be the day, I decided, to get some answers to all (or at least to some) of my questions. I let her get a short distance down the road before I joined her walkabout. She'd never suspect anything. After all, there were other walkers out this time of day, so I fell in step with her. I know it sounds a bit creepy, but my own curiosity had gotten the better of me. This woman had caused me to expect better things of myself. She inspired me. She energized me. If ever there was a faithful person, she was the embodiment of them. I have seen plenty of other walkers, but none have been so consistently faithful as she.

I was beginning to think this was just a regular walkabout, with nothing in particular happening. So why did she feel the need for protection? I had assumed that whatever she had in her clenched fist was for protection. This morning, she walked with both fists clenched. Maybe she was a bit nervous because she felt more exposed without the shadows to blend her into the humidity of the breaking day. Maybe she hadn't relaxed just yet.

We had traveled about three quarters of a mile, had rounded a curve, or two, and found ourselves heading down a long stretch. I know this road!!! It's the street of the abandoned house. The house that never has any activity. No lights on, yard never cared for, upside down canoe that's covered in grass/weeds, and the black pouch that lays beneath the tree.

As we neared the house, I noticed the black pouch. Torn, shredded on one side, laying open because of the abuse it had received. She looked over at it, paused, and then walked on, as she glanced toward the house. I slowed my pace...

Just as we got closer to two roads crossing each other, I could see her shoulders tighten, as one side lifted just a bit higher than the other. I stepped to the other side of the walkway to see what had caused her anxiety. Coming towards her was two young men on bicycles. The first one appeared to be coming straight for her, with no apparent choice of giving her room to walk. She would have to move off the path, unless she wanted to get run over, because he sure wasn't widening the distance between them. But, she held her ground. Her other shoulder tensed as the object in her hand begin to move into a position of readiness.

They met, with only inches between them. The young man continued his ride without glancing her way. Her hair blew away from her face as the rider raced past her. Her shoulders relaxed, her finger moved from the object in her hand, and her stride lengthened. The second bicyclist acknowledged her with a smile, and a respectful sharing of the pathway, that caused a smile to stretch itself across her own face. It was a smile of hope. A smile of gratitude. A smile of thanks. Was that a spring in her step? It appeared to me these two knew each other, or at least had their paths cross before today. 

We continued our walk without further incidence, until... 

Facing the giants, here you'll find me...in Mary's World

 

The Girl Who Walks Series - Episode #2

 

It was June 9th, 2023, at 5:54 AM, when the mysterious woman entered my world. Day, after day, she has been a constant event. I'm a writer, you see, and my imagination has taken flight since that first sighting. It doesn't seem to matter the weather, she is always there. Early morning hours, always. Some sweltering hot. Others, like this morning, a very cool 58 degrees. Come rain, or come shine, she is my constant.

Today is September 2nd, 2023. Autumn is about to arrive, and because the days are getting shorter, she has begun her constitutional walks much later. Still, she shows up when the sky is just beginning to welcome us to another day.  Today, the beams coming from the street lights disrupt the shadows thrown across the roadway, and reveals a secret is hidden inside her closed fist.

Fall weather has come to our neighborhood, overnight. Literally. I'm not sure how she feels about it just yet. I've only seen her one time in anything other than a sleeveless blouse and her Sketchers Walk On pants (or jeans, on occasion), and what looks to be like the infamous slip-on Sketchers foot wear. Some would say I'm too observant. Is that really a thing though? How can someone be TOO observant? First World issues. I know...

I've lived here for a very long time and know the neighborhood pretty well. It is a friendly one, for the most part. When they get to know a person, at least. But, mostly they keep to themselves when meeting someone like my mysterious walker. I'm pretty sure they rarely acknowledge her presence (if ever), much less speak to her. She must wonder why. Does it cause her to be afraid of them? It's not the deep south, but it is the south! So, aren't we advertised as being friendly? She must wonder. And, what is she carrying in her clutched fist? 

I wonder which route she will take today. Are there other neighbors that watch as she makes her way down the road? Has she walked past the house that looks abandoned, where the grass is never mowed and it's always dark inside? If so, she must have noticed the dusty black van that sits under the carport that looks to have not been used for a very long time. What does she think about the upside down canoe (of sorts), with high weeds threatening to cover it, and the junk that surrounds it? And what about the little black pouch that lays at the foot of the large tree? How much curiosity can she handle? Will she continue to walk past without finding out? How will she get her questions answered? She must have them! Will the man who walks with holstered gun and side kick dog be part of the solution? And are they the reason for the secret weapon in her fist?

So many questions that need answers. Maybe I should become her friend. But how???

Until then, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

The Girl Who Walks

 
I've noticed a pattern emerging in my neighborhood. Not so long ago, my street was pretty quiet and peaceful before the sun came up. I could sit and gaze out my study window and enjoy the street lights glowing through the mist of the high humidity that is prominent in my area during this time of year.

And just like that, things began to change. Don't get me wrong, it's still decently peaceful. Those early morning hours that I love, because it's just me that's up and around, they're still as they were. It's just that a few months ago, as I gazed out my window, with lights turned down low, a form appeared that once wasn't there. It startled me at first. But then my imagination kicked in. It wasn't as if I was out there crouching beside the house, making myself vulnerable to possible danger. I was safe. Safely tucked inside a darkened room where no one could see in. If she had been sent to eliminate me, she'd have to come into the yard. I'd have plenty of time to grab my archaic Colt 45, recently cleaned and ready. She had gotten my full attention. But she walked on...

For the last 2 months I have sat with my cup of coffee, watching the ever changing patterns the current temperature makes as it plays with our street lights beaming out their comforting oras. I have created (in my head only) stories of this mysterious woman. Some are eerily frightening. Others are of the beautiful streets of France on any given rainy day, as passersby carry their red umbrellas over their heads and move into any one of the shopping buildings wanting to spend their money. But, today, the woman who has invaded my street (and quite literally, my thoughts), and has given me more fodder and enhanced my story telling abilities, didn't show. When she had appeared that first day, I thought, "Oh. It's just someone trying to keep mobile in their old age. This isn't going to last long." But, day after day, there she was. I could almost set my clock by her appearance under the stong, steely street lamps. 

However, today I waited for her and she didn't show. At least not on schedule. Did she come by earlier and I just missed her? She's never been 15 minutes late!!! I was beginning to worry as my thoughts took flight. What if something had happened to her as she walked without light? Has she been attacked? Is she in the hospital fighting for her life? Does she need help? I couldn't take the pounding in my head and the increased heart rate as I considered going out just to look for her. I turned my lights up for the first time in a very long time. I needed answers, and they weren't coming while sitting in the dark.

And then it happened! I had no sooner turned the lights on, and there she was, peering in! I jumped. Where had she come from? How long had she been there? I had just looked up and down the street as far as I could see, and noone was visible. The sun hadn't risen just yet, but it was about to. The sky was increasingly becoming light. Just a tinge of light on the horizon, but still dark enough that someone could hide in the shadows. There she was, looking inside my house, now that I had made that possible. I froze. Eyes wide open, coffee shaking out of my cup as my hand trembled. She walked on...

And here you'll find me, still...in Mary's World.

5 Possible Antidotes to Drinking Coffee After 5PM

 

Things I found to be true, as I took my daily walkabout this morning. It was just an hour later than usual. I"ll get to the coffee thing, later...

Memo to me:

1) The young are out showing off their agility, as they come upon you unaware of their presence. Earlier is better. Only 1, or possibly 2, out before the sun comes up.

2) Traffic is heavy on the sidewalks of life, causing the slightest breeze of human presence to make you jump. 

3) People in cars are way friendlier later in the day, even to the point of stopping in the street and rolling down their window, just to greet you with a smile and a "good to see you." Early walkabouts, not so much. Probably haven't had their caffeine, yet.

Last night was an interesting night. I knew it would be, even before pouring myself that cup of coffee to enjoy a brownie (with walnuts), fresh out of the oven. I didn't care. Tomorrow (today) [now I'm sounding like Kamala Harris] is my day off work. I could slide into the morning with ease. Like I said, I couldn't care less what that beautiful brown, aromatic, liquid was preparing for me.

Surprisingly, I was a bit sleepy when I removed myself from the kitchen, so deciding to catch up on some Chicago Fire, while I could, I propped myself up in bed and turned the TV on. Yes, we have a television in the bedroom. There is a reason. No man-cave in this house, so DW gets the big screen, I don't. And it's okay. 

It wasn't long before I was dozing, so removing the prop, I laid down. Two hours later, I was up for a bathroom break (wonder why). Went back to bed, then two hours later (yes, again), I was up. Another bathroom break. Dang coffee! This went on ALLLLLLL night long until it was my usual time of rising, when the caffeine finally exited my nervous system, and I was out like a light!

When my eyes finally opened, I decided to miss my daily walk because of the heat and North Carolina humidity. I checked the humidity of Miami, OK...where we moved from, just out of curiosity. At the time I looked, it was a full 20% lower than here. That didn't help my decision at all. 😑

But...like I said in an earlier blog post, once I get hold of a thing, it's hard to pry outta my hands (mind). So, I faced the music of late night (5 PM) coffee, and put my walking shoes on and headed out. What a difference one hour makes around here!

So, for us older adults, maybe we should hold off the caffeine after 3PM. Just a thought...that I've had for many a year, now. So...the antidote? Here's 5 of them:

1) First off, lower the room temp to 60 degrees (or thereabouts). Just throw an extra blanket over your husband. Cover his head, too. If you have one. Husband, that is...

2) Get rid of ALL light emitting thingys in the room. This includes the tiny white light at the bottom of your TV that lets you know it's still there waiting on you. Also the bathroom night light that's there for impromptu late night visits, and the air purifier light should go, too. Or, maybe just use a heavy-weight sleep mask. 🤷‍♀️

3) Read a book. An entire book...

4) Exercise by doing sit ups...in bed. All night long.

5) Try playing dead...

Recovering, here you will find me...in Mary's World.

The Quest for Excellence

A couple of decades ago, I worked for a family owned pizza restaurant in Miami, Oklahoma. I had removed myself from the salon industry and had gone to "help out" my sister and her family, as their business grew to unimaginable heights. They/we were head and neck deep in customers, so much so, that we were always rubbing shoulders with someone (literally), as we took care of such a valuable asset. 

Eventually I was made to oversee the dining room experience. That included the monthly training of the wait team. One of our mottos was, "If you have time to lean, you have time to clean." And the 68% rule would unexpectedly be thrown in during our times together, just to see who remembered it and why they thought it was important to know. In our Quest for Excellence monthly meetings, product knowledge was at the top of our list of things needing understood. That, and the cleaning thing...

I can remember cutting out various shapes with labels for toppings that would go on various sandwiches, because those were the items new employees had a hard time remembering. I wanted them to be able to tell a customer exactly what they were getting when they ordered whatever it was they had ordered, so it was a "put the right ingredient on" whatever I chose to give them as a customer order. Our wait team was amazing. They listened. They learned quickly. They were respectful. Mostly...*ahem. And, I'm pretty sure most of the girls & guys remember the car lights shining on the entry doors at close to make sure they cleaned them thoroughly for the morning opening staff (which always complained they weren't). I'm pretty sure the night elves snuck in and dirtied up those doors, because my girls (and guy) were awesome at cleaning. They even learned how to get ALL crumbs out of the booths seats without cutting the leather. I saw more than a few raised eyebrows, on occasion, but they loved me, whether they think they did or not. 😂

It wasn't all a bed of roses, so-to-speak. There were some very trying times. Life is like that, ya know. How else would we learn to do good, if challenges weren't present? There are many stories I could tell about those years at Papazano's, but this post is not about that.

Yesterday, I had gone to the grocery store and because it was so very hot outside, I decided we would just enjoy some Chicken Salad from Chicken Salad Chick in Waverly Place, for our dinner. Sometimes, I will stop in and purchase their made-ahead containers of various flavorings. Always delicious. I do love their Broccoli Salad (sprinkled with bacon bits) AND their Grape Salad (sprinkled with brown sugar and pecan bits) as sides to any main dish. If you know me, you probably also know that I give anything at least 3 times before judging whether it needs addressed. Anything.

Wellll....yesterday was the 3rd time I was graced with an employees attitude that put me over the top. But, since I have mellowed in my old age, I chose to wait and just lay my frustration out on my keyboard, instead of embarrassing the young man by asking if he was having a good day. And possibly some other snyd remark. Yep. I used to be kinda bossy. Kinda rude. Kinda self-serving. Those attributes never go anywhere but down, where they belong.

Here's the low-down on what I'm talking about: With money in hand, I choose my take-out and proceed to the checkout point, where there were 2 employees checking out their customers. The lines were moving smoothly, until it was my turn at the register. The young man behind the register never once looked up to greet his customer. With head down, he continued to fiddle with his computer. I have no idea what he was doing, but pretty sure he did. I waited calmly, although the fact he was ignoring a faithful customer was annoying to say the least. But, maybe he was having a really hard day and I wasn't in too much of a hurry, so...

I didn't time the wait, but it felt longer than it should have been. The only way I knew he knew I was there, was the fact he began to separate my purchases. Still, with his head hanging down, never once speaking a word or making eye contact. He was just going through the motions of a job needing done. Since this was my third interaction with him, in as many weeks, I'm beginning to think he must have a hard life, or is just indifferent to life. Remember the 68% rule? It was about to kick in. Look it up, if you have no idea what I'm talking about. I asked him a couple of questions about toppings they offer for a couple of my choices, which he answered with a closed mouth "um-hum", head still down. This dude would never be able to identify any part of me in a line-up. Guess I should be thankful.

To be fair, I do think he mumbled something about me having a "good" or "nice" day, as I was leaving. I can't be 100% sure about that, because as I turned to leave, my last view of him was with his head still down. 🤷‍♀️

Life can be hard. I do understand that. What I don't understand is why businesses aren't more mindful of their employees and make sure they are okay. Mentally, if not physically. Both, really...but the emotional state of a human being (especially being used in a service position to customers), is of vital importance. Not just for the employee, but for the business as well! Good grief! I just don't get it.

When I went back to the beauty industry, after leaving Papazanos (Miami, remember?), I leased a building for a couple of years on the South side of town, then moved to North Main where I purchased land and a building. After gutting the building and creating a spa-like atmosphere, inside, and out, I began the process of hiring. Each potential employee had to pass 3 reviews by having 3 meetings with me. Then, they had to sign a document that outlined who the business was, what they could expect from me, and what was expected of them. That cut down on surprises. One of those things I expected of them, was that although I understood life can throw us a curve that creates a lot of stress, they would have to be able to leave those difficulties at the back door when coming to work, and walk into the salon with a smile on their face and gratitude in their heart for having a job where clients choose them to take care of what they viewed to be a very important part of their confidence. They were to come to work with clean clothes and hair done. Our customers hair always made a statement that either gave them great confidence, or made their load heavier. The employees were to be able to step away from their own problems for the time they were serving others, and make that time about the customer...never pouring their own problems onto the customer. Then, upon leaving the business for the day, they could pick that problem back up and try to find a solution, so their own spirit would be lifted the next day.

I wish businesses would hire me to train their employees since it appears they can't find the time. I would go once a month (maybe twice, depending on the need), to each business that hired me. The Quest for Excellence would be launched in each business. Wouldn't you, as a customer, enjoy a smiling face that genuinely offered you a blessing for your day? 

Always searching for excellence, here you'll find me...in Mary's World.

"Walking It Off" on Day 35

Forget Taylor Swift's admonition to "Shake if off". Shaking it off doesn't always mean one has dealt with an irritation. Sometimes, shaking it off simply means one has been successful at pushing it down into the archives of what one deems to be injustice. Those archives have a nasty way of sneaking up on oneself and imploding once the pile has no place to "shake off" yet another annoyance, or what one believes to be a direct attack.

I would rather "walk it off". Want to know why? Because when we talk a walk (maybe even a hike *wink *wink), we have time to process what has happened to make us want to go out in 80% humidity during a rainstorm, in long jeans and a tee-shirt that offers little to no protection from the onslaught of blood thirsty mosquitos. Have you ever noticed how much faster you can walk while thinking about how to keep your head from exploding? Even in high humidity? 

I felt like I was breathing in a paper bag this morning as my morning routine of walking around the neighborhood transpired. The morning walk was significantly delayed because of storms in the area. Real thunder and lightning and pouring rain, storms. God's little show of power lasted a full hour and dumped out a depth of humidity that felt like walking in mud...upstream.

Yes. I did consider not going until later in the day. However, here in the state that's just a rocks throw above the Deep South states, later, means HOTTER! But that's not what pushed me out the door sooner than I probably should have. My "widdle feelings" got hurt because someone didn't know what I needed to hear. Yep. You heard that right. I temporarily became a Democratic Woke person right there in my kitchen. I just didn't realize it until I "walked it off". Until I gave myself time to consider WHY my response (or lack thereof) was wrong. 

Why is it so easy to misunderstand our spouses, or significant others? D.W. and I are almost to the 49 year mark, and still, I occasionally misunderstand his intent. Today, I think it was because I have hated (strong word...I know), the reflection I see in the mirror. I am also very grateful that God has allowed my one foot that's on the proverbial banana peel, to hold steady and not slip. Bottom line, He has shown us all how to have health. We just either ignore it, or choose unwisely. Sometimes we don't even know what we are doing to our bodies, until it's too late and consequences hit us head on. That's another story...

Resistance has been trying to set in for the last 3 days, now. You know what I'm talking about, right? That little dark cloud that likes to hover when more than one thing is bouncing around inside the walls of our brains computer-like memories. Today, I was ready to embrace what I believed to be a legitimate excuse. And even though I felt really bummed about it, I was ready to cave. At least for the moment, all the while understanding the walk may not happen at all, today. The storms have never stopped me before, so why today? The jury for that question is still out.

The question you're all wanting answered is, "So, what did Dennis say, or do, for crying out loud?" Well, it's more what he didn't say, than what he did say. What I needed to hear was, "It's okay, Mary. One day off won't destroy everything you've accomplished. You can pick back up tomorrow." But that's not what he said. "You can't go out when there's lightning, just go later," is what he said. Okay. Okay. You can stop laughing now.

He didn't have the same feelings I did. The same thought process that I did. He didn't conform to my way of thinking, therefore he was wrong. He should have been more sensitive to my needs. Like I said, for a moment in time I fully understood the Woke Democratic brain. 😉

Memo: Everything doesn't have to be a direct attack on me/you. In this instance. D.W. really was watching out for me. Don't go out while it's lightning. Go later, simply meant he was for me. For my determined spirit to get this excess weight off. For my determined spirit to become as healthy as possible. It actually was a very gentle nudge forward. 

Okay. I'm back to my "Always Search Out the Truth, Republican" 😉

Persevering, here you'll find me...in Mary's World.

Day 32

Today I hit a wall. The sky was overcast, and the previous night had not given me the rest this sometimes weary shell I recognize as my body, needs. Yes, there have been other mornings that I really didn't want to "go for a walk", but not enough to keep the door from opening and spitting my resistant spirit out onto the driveway that meets up with the road I choose to walk upon.

I'm an early riser, so I work on other things while I wait for the sun to rise. Today, I went back to bed for 20 minutes. Didn't help. AND, the sun didn't show itself until 6:07 (that's 5 whole minutes later than yesterday). Since I won't go outside while it's still dark, for various reasons, it gave my body time to get comfortable. And it was tired.  Poured myself a cup of coffee and stretched this aging bod while waiting. 

I've always been able to shrug off the resistance and hit the road at a fairly fast pace. It's how I'm wired. My mom was a fast walker because she had to be in order to do all that must be done in the space of a days time. Ten kids, ya know. Just not enough hours in a day. Somehow, I either learned that was the way one was supposed to walk, or it was just my "get it done" mannerism.

If anything, I'm faithful. Once I commit to something, I never waver. My mind tries to talk me out of things, but I never give up. Today, it was a mental battle. Why, I'm not sure. The weather gave us a break and it was a cool 70 degrees at 6 AM, compared to the 78 & 79 degrees I normally walk in. Perfect walking weather. So, I resolved to put one foot in front of the other and just "get it done".

A funny thing happened as I walked. I had gone about half a mile when I spotted what appeared to be a homeless man across the street. I've never seen homelessness in our area. I've seen beggars that were clearly not what they hoped you'd think they were, but never someone in our neck of the woods that reminded me of what I see on the news from time to time. Usually across the country, in California. Oh, this person hadn't set up a tent, or anything that resembled a "home". He was actually walking with a brown knapsack in one hand, and a plastic bag in the other. Not knowing his story, my heart went out to him, while at the same time finding a lot more strength in my legs than what I began with. My stride lengthened, my heart bumped up its beats-per-minute, and my arms swung just a bit faster as the pavement below my feet shortened. The next time I looked over my shoulder, he had disappeared.

It's been said that our past doesn't define us. Yet, some days I feel mine does. I do know fear can be a healthy thing at times. It helps us understand the physical and mental pain of ignoring it. But, just like everything else, we should have a healthy balance. Too much of a thing can/will destroy us (which I'm known to allow). Too much eating. Too much sleeping. Too much TV watching. Too much work, etc. You get the picture. Too little of a thing also has the capability of destroying us. So, mostly because I was alone this morning, I allowed fear to dictate my actions. What had I not noticed? Should I be afraid? Once off that stretch of road, I settled down and was able to relax my mind as I finished my walk-about.

The question I'm left with this morning, is, "Will this one event cause my faithful walking to be altered?" This is the thing...there will always be something to test our resilience. To test our fortitude. To test our faithfulness. No matter what our goals are. What, or who, rules your thoughts?

Heading into day 33, here you'll find me...in Mary's World.

What I've Learned About Perseverance

Friday will be the beginning of week 4 since I made up my mind to actually do something with a gift I was given over 76 years ago. Over the years, I've enjoyed having this gift, but never really took into account just how unique it is. Yes, similarities run through it, much like others with the same gift. Still, my gift was unique to what I had need of. For the challenges I would face. For unanswered questions. For living life. For understanding. For a way back to health, mentally and physically. 

I usually begin my daily walk anywhere between 6 and 7 am. Come rain (and there's been a LOT of that happening...which I love), or come shine. Most mornings I am greeted with the fragrance of honeysuckle as I step off the porch. Then, the most amazing aroma from my Jasmine Bush greets me as I walk past the roadside mailbox. As the walk begins, there is most usually a fresh breeze that welcomes me, whether the clouds are dumping their rain or the already warm sun is shining. And I welcome it!

It has taken me all of these 3 weeks to see the trend of walkers/joggers between the minutes of this hour. If I get out by 6:15, it's usually just me. Alone with my thoughts. If I'm 15 minutes later, I'll see 1-3 others out and about. Today, there were 5. Walkers & joggers. On occasion, one of those walkers will speak when spoken to. It's a mystery to me why they ignore the greeting. The runners, I don't even bother to greet anymore. I used to, in the beginning days, but soon learned they must need their breathing to be consistent so they conserve it. I don't really know. But, I've yet to have a response from any of them. One of the runners I meet every day finally threw a smile my direction as we met this morning. I liked that. I knew she wouldn't respond verbally, but it was just the encouragement I needed to wish her a great day. And a walker almost got into a full blown conversation with me, all the while we both walked in different directions. Also, I've noticed the increase in traffic down my favorite stretch of road, during the minutes between 6:30 and 7:00. I'm guessing they're all headed to work, or possibly taking their kiddos to summer camp. Again, no clue. 

The noise doesn't bother me so much. I still see many woodland creatures scurrying around. Which is kinda calming, actually. I could swear the traffic stopping geese I come across, now recognize me. We lock eyes as I wish them a happy day, as well. Side note:Yes, they actually stop traffic here. It's the craziest thing I've seen in awhile. They take their sweet time crossing a busy road, backing up traffic for a fair distance, as if danger is nowhere to be found. And there is usually a whole brood of them. It does no good to honk at them. They are oblivious to the fact you have a place to be. 

So, what have I learned about perseverance? 

1) It calms the soul. 

2) It gives one something to look forward to. 

3) It gives a boost of confidence. 

4) It strengthens the spirit. 

5) It showers one with rewards. 

These 5 things are what grace is rooted in. God knew we would need grace applied to our lives, and He generously gave it to us. We just have to mobilize it. Reach for it. It's free for the asking, but just like anything with clear instructions, we can't find that place where grace has been applied without first realizing its there, then implementing it. Then the realization will come that it continually surrounds us. It's when we walk in the knowledge of grace, that we actually experience it.

Lastly, as we look for the grace we've been given, we must persevere consistently. Once realized, it's as close as the air we breathe. The realization of it being a real thing comes so effortlessly as we walk in it. Always realizing it as the free gift it is from the One who created us and reserved a spot within each of us to utilize this amazing gift in its uniqueness, not found anywhere but within the house provided by a loving Father. The place where His love for us resides. In my opinion, the reason we become miserable in our lives is simply that we don't know this fact, or have simply forgotten its existence. Or denied it.

Broken down, it may look something like this:

Perseverance is doing something despite the difficulty or delay in achieving the success we are looking for. Being single-minded, if you will. Consistency is applying what is needed for the sake of accuracy that best suits the need for what one is persevering for. An example of that would be putting one foot in front of the other if the goal is being healthy. 

In this case, it is being applied to my determined spirit to drop these unwanted extra pounds I've accumulated that are seemingly causing a few health issues. In order for me to be successful I must first apply the strategy (consistency) to the difficulty (perseverance), and become single-minded by focusing on the prize set before me. Bringing my body back into subjection to be all that it was meant to be, while remembering Rome wasn't built in a day, so neither should I expect immediate results from something it took more than 3 years to accumulate. And remembering grace will cover everything I reach for.

Not wasting, not ignoring, not simply taking advantage of this wonderful "house" God has provided for me, here you'll find me...in Mary's World.

Time for Reconciliation

One week in, and I thought I might collapse before my legs got me home as I continued to lengthen the journey of the day. It wasn't because of the lack of oxygen, or chest pain. It was because my upper legs and hips were taking a beating as my determined spirit commanded them to move forward. Again and again. Never give up. Never give up. Keep going. Keep going...

The winter months (and a lazy spirit) had gotten me to a weight that wasn't acceptable. The problem wasn't what I thought others thought as they looked my way. The problem was what I thought, every time I looked at the reflection of someone I didn't know. Had I really allowed myself to get to this point? Evidently I had. 

My sweet tooth yelled back at me. "It doesn't just magically appear, young lady!" So, me, and who I was created to be (physically AND mentally), jumped into the conversation for the hundredth time. "This is not good." "You DO want to be around for your grand-kiddos, right?" "Don't you miss how GOOD it felt to be the size your body loves being?" "This will take some time, but seriously, where will you be when that time has past?" And finally, "Let's get to work!"

Isn't it crazy what our mind tells us when we finally decide to make a change? Where food is concerned, everytime I walked past the pastry sitting on the counter (waiting for me and a cup of coffee), my thoughts were that I should get that all eaten before starting this wind down of sweets entering my mouth. UGH!!! So I did. 🙄

This staycation has been good. I feel I'm able to focus a bit better and hopefully get some of those cobwebs out of my stale, stagnant brain. I'm seriously tired of mindlessly walking through the motions of everyday life. I did make plans to shake things up a bit for this 6 day sabbatical, yet none have been accomplished, and I'm 4 days in. I have no remorse. 😂  

If you don't know by now, I'm a bit of a mysterious person. Sometimes I talk too much, wishing I could just fade into the background and be silent. Sometimes I don't talk hardly at all, wishing I had someone that would listen. But, for the most part, I'm a pretty verbal gal. I want my voice to be heard. Good or bad. Focused or indifferent. Happy or sad. Isn't that what most of humanity wants? To be heard? 

I've been told by my doctor, to please start walking. She wants this cholesterol level to drop and blood pressure to even out. So do I, so I walk. Granted, it took her about 3 months to get me moving, but it's not like I lead a motionless life. I still work at this ripe old age of 76. Sure, it's only 4 days a week, but still. That should account for something. Right? Turns out it doesn't amount to much at all. Even though I'm on my feet for the duration of those 4 days, I'm not really moving that much. Unless standing translates to movement, I may be in trouble. My arms are nice and strong and my legs are the epitome of strength, but the other less worked parts, wellllll....

Guess I could blame the bakery for making those tempting morsels in the first place. They are the cause of all the morbidity, not only in me, but in the masses. Right? Maybe we should sue them. Isn't that what we do nowadays? We couldn't possibly be responsible for this madness our bodies are rebelling with. If they hadn't tempted us, we'd never be in this situation. How dare they! And why should the bakery's profit from our sufferings? 

Sorry...had to show off my wokeness for a minute. 

My parents raised 10 kids to understand that their actions had consequences. Good, and not so good. We were made to understand that how others lived their lives, made no difference in how (or why) we reaped consequences. The outcome of our lives depended completely on how we faced and responded to the life we were given. And much of it came from the amount of control we had over ourselves. How much we demanded submission of our own body. Over its actions. Our consequences were in direct relation to what we chose to do in any given circumstance. 

So...here I go again, taking charge (once again) of my actions. I never should have relinquished, should never have pushed away, the complete understanding of the charge I have over my home. The shelter of my spirit. I should never have relinquished charge of all the countless ways my body was designed to aid me in the choices I made. My body is faithful. Until it can no longer be so because of my choices. We are partners. My body and I. It will give me good returns, if I but give it good nutrition and proper movement.

Working on forgiveness of such blatant irresponsibility, here you'll find me...in Mary's World.

The Depth of the Soul

Some may take offense at what this blog is going to address. However, it needs addressed. I don't hear it often, but when I do, it attaches itself not only in my memory, but it does something hurtful to my soul. Regardless if it was meant for me, or another. My physical body takes the brunt of it, as the words resound over and over inside the body's constant flow of life. 

I won't mention the slang term I am speaking of, but the same holds true of any defaming word, such as "stupid" or "idiot". The person you aim these foul words at, may indeed be irritating or ridiculous in whatever they have said or done, to cause the urge to respond with inflammatory words that wound. Yet, what is the purpose of spewing garbage everywhere? Does it make us feel any better that we've "put them in their place"? Does it make us feel superior to them? Why? Why must we do that?

You, and I, have heard the saying that how a person acts, how they talk-down to others, isn't necessarily about those being attacked with the foul verbiage, but rather, it's about them. It's about the content of the abusers soul. Yet, words have a way of piercing us, don't they? 

If nothing else, these sort of "attacks" cause me to stop and search my own soul. Have I spewed out unnecessary language at others? Is it well with MY soul? 

This is what was roaming around my brain waves as I walked the neighborhood this drizzly, and quite muggy, morning. 

Allowing you entrance into my mind, here you will find me...in Mary's World

 

Peripheral Vision Is Important, Too

It's been exactly one year since posting about the next leg of my journey. As I re-read that particular blog entry, I thought to myself, "Where did your vision go?" For many of my adult years, I've had a goal, and a vision on how to get there. Usually with a five year time line. Somewhere along the way, I seem to have lost the ability to see beyond the here, and the now. It's not a comfortable place to be when you're a planner.

Granted, there have been times in my life when that has rang true, then, as well as it does now. But those times never lasted as long as this one has. This one began almost 10 years ago, and seems to shadow me, as if it were my companion. We all know there is only one thing to do when such a dilemma presents itself. Put one foot in front of the other and keep moving forward. Right? Do what we know to do, do it well, and don't deviate from it.

During our 2012-13 move, from Oklahoma to North Carolina, I remember saying how I felt like a cork just bobbing along in a vast amount of oceanic water, having no purpose, and no place in-particular to go. Having oversight for the many, brought to naught, blew some challenges my way. The transition of confidence to a big question mark began to take a toll on me, causing me to question the importance of my existence. Crazy, I know...

I've always considered myself a serious person, with little to no time for humor. Neither did I, nor do I, like idle chit-chat. If we must visit, let us visit about important things; deep, from the heart things. It's what stirs me. I feel no harm in being thus. I love deeply, sincerely, faithfully. That hasn't changed, it's been a constant. Just my long distance vision had become a bit obscure, which makes it hard to have a goal. That bothered me.

What I have come to realize, is that I actually need humor in my life. I need to laugh more. Like I did with my friend, Jani, and on occasion, my sister, Becky. Beck was more on the serious side (most Praters are/were), but entertained sarcasm, on occasion...which could (on occasion) be funny. Jani and I couldn't get together without entering a whole new world of laughter. We could just look at each other and begin laughing, that often turned into coughing fits. We could be serious, too, however. It's just that when we needed a good laugh, we knew who to seek out. It was a healthy balance. We all need healthy balances, right? 

All that changed when their journey ended here. Jani's earthly body lost its fight with a mean brain cancer, while Becky faced PSP that trapped her inside an unwilling body to respond to brain impulses. She went only a month after Jani. And I had just lost a brother to what began as prostrate cancer, and spread to various other organs in his body, only a few months earlier. I remember wondering how the world, and all its people, could continue on as if these 3 souls were never here. Had never graced the planet with their spirits. My world was a bit unsteady for awhile and though I never lost sight of who I was/am, it felt as if I was suddenly alone. I wasn't of course. The world just felt a bit empty. A bit like a torn tapestry that would never be the same. And even though there was still much beauty to be had and felt from family (blood connected AND extended family), a piece of me left with them. In retrospect, I think I stayed a bit too long in that mind set. I missed my confidants.

And then came our first grandchild! Life was about to take on new meaning, and with it came new purpose. And just as seasons of life come and go, so it seems that purpose does, as well. Change will always happen. How we navigate it, is what's important. I'll always believe Reagan came at the time she did, to set many of us free (at least me) from a bondage we (I) had put ourselves (okay...myself) in. Seeing life through the eyes of a child will ALWAYS break into a protected heart and mold it back to the soft heart God intended it to be. To say she has lifted our spirits, is an understatement. And then, Warner comes along and ices the cake. It's as if iron had sharpened iron long enough, and God sent a fresh wind to cool everything down. To be in the presence of a child is life-giving, and causes the world to seem just a bit more navigable.

So...how's my vision these days? About the same. For whatever reason, the only future I can see, is the ultimate, not the short-long term. And that's okay with me. Putting one foot in front of the other and doing well with the things given me to do, is good enough for me. The "plan" is to continue with my salon business as long as health (mental & physical) remain. I no longer feel like that cork in the water, bobbing along with no purpose. God has seemingly pulled me closer to home without the need to know where I'm going at all times. I've learned to relax more. A whole lot more. How I even functioned before, I'll never know. I'm pretty sure it's why I'm so skittish, and will scream so easily when surprised. Even when Dennis (my husband of almost 49 years) just walks down the hall without forewarning me. It's a miracle he's not knocked me out, because of a knee-jerk reaction. 🤣

To be clear...my vision remains true and on point for where I'm headed. It's just that my peripheral vision has become so vivid, I don't focus so much on the obvious. It's the beauty of what God has put in my path that has become my focus, for such a time as this. 

A closing thought: Usually, seasons dance together a bit, before taking on their own appearance and character. Parts of the former blends into the present, and then the present shows its true colors. Yet, there are times a season comes blowing in without warning, ready to stop us in our tracks and show itself real. Who you were is suddenly no longer that. You have quickly changed course. Still you. Different direction. That happened, folks, about 10 years ago. 

Waiting for the next wind of change, here you'll find me...in Mary's World.

Why Did You Remain Hidden?

A few weeks ago, I was having a conversation with a young lady, and with tears in her eyes, she said, "If I make it into Heaven, the first thing I will ask God is, "Why did You remain hidden?" Maybe a better question would be, "Why did You remain silent?" 

I just can't get this out of my head. It invades my waking moments, my going-about-my-day moments, and everything in-between moments...popping into my thoughts without warning. It lays heavy some days. What did she mean? Really mean? I think this question goes so much deeper than surface issues. Like most things, it has become a heart issue, searching for the presence of its God. Of its maker.

Most mornings I'm at my study desk by 7 AM. Some days (most, actually) it's much earlier. As I prepare for the onslaught of the day, and all it will bring my way, this conversation enters my mind. The sun faithfully peaks through the trees from across the road (usually right at 7:45 AM these days), making its way straight into my eyes. And even though I'm not looking directly at it, the rays coming from it, soon begin to blind me. Can't see much of anything. So, I reach up and close that one shade where the sun is making its presence known. It's not shining brighter than yesterday. It's not shining less than yesterday. It's not trying to get my attention, it just quietly makes its presence known to me. It's being what it was created to be. A light. A source of life. Astonishingly, as it commands the weather, the ocean currants, the seasons, and the climate, it remains faithful to little old me. Simply put, it makes life possible on planet Earth. MY life possible. Here. On planet Earth.

How do I know it's there? I know it's there because it's blinding me, and on days I open my window, I swear I can feel its warmth, even though it's some 93 million miles away from my window (according to NASA). High and lifted up, so far away, yet so close we know it is present. Always present. Even when it's on the other side of the planet, making its rounds for all people. 

Food for thought: What do we tell our little kiddos when they ask, "Momma (or Daddy), where does the sun go when it gets dark outside?" We tell them it's still there, it's just giving its light to the moon, making it not so bright, dimming its own light, so we can rest better. So we can sleep and recharge for tomorrow. Right? I do hope we're listening as God is making His presence known. 

There are days, seasons, if you will, that we can't really feel the sun so much. Yet, it remains where it was placed by the God of heaven and earth. Still providing all the earth needs for that time. That season. We yearn for the sun to show itself during those days that turn into weeks. MONTHS (in some places). Just like we yearn for God to show Himself when we see so much devastation. So much injustice. So much wrong. So much death. 

Why does He remain hidden (or silent) when we feel we need Him the most? But, is He really hidden? Did you know that even though the sun is hidden by clouds some days, the rays it produces break through those clouds and not only covers the earth, but also goes deep into the ocean? The sun will always continue to give life, whether we see it (Him?) or not. It's the nature of the sun. Or the Son...

On this earth, we will always have hardships, devastation, and circumstantial cruelty. ~John 16:33 But...He came to show us how to be over-comers. There is evil in this world. That's not going away, as much as we'd like for it to. However, we don't have to succumb to it, or become part of it. He will lead us in truth and will never leave us lonely. ~Deuteronomy 31:6-8. 

All we have to do is look with our spiritual eyes. Sometimes our natural eyes will tell us something is a truth, when the things we can't see, are the real truth. Such as...I had a client, just yesterday, that told me of this amazing experience he had on a recent work trip. Short synopsis of the encounter was that he chose to help a total stranger that was standing in the middle of the road, bleeding, at 3 AM, as my client drove the dark road that was free of all traffic. Allowing him access to his car, driving him to a drop off, calling a number he didn't know to let them know where the man was, AND later following up to make sure something left behind wasn't important to him, I am STILL amazed that my client was in the right place at the right time for the one needing help. And, even though the stranger was talking incoherently (that's another story I don't feel I should talk about), when he spoke to him the next day, the stranger told my client he had saved his life. Oh man!!! Don't even try to convince me that God wasn't there.

One last thing. Moses wanted to see God. He must have asked the same question. "Why do You remain hidden?" In Exodus 33:22, God responded to Moses. "You cannot see my face, for man shall not see me and live." And the Lord said, "Behold, there is a place by me where you shall stand on the rock, and while my glory passes by I will put you in a cleft of the rock, and I will cover you with my hand until I have passed by." That very obscure meeting with God caused Moses to come down from the mountain with white hair. I think I'll choose to believe that we cannot look into the face of God and live. Maybe He is protecting us by remaining hidden. Or, maybe He's actually there and we're the ones who are hidden. Jesus did say that if we see Him, we've seen the Father.~John 14:8-9

Diving deep, here you will find me...in Mary's World.