Hmmmmmmm???

Just a thought for today. And here it is, courtesy of the wonderful Mary Oliver:

"What do you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?"

The possibilites are endless!

OH SAY CAN YOU SEE...

Yesterday the Richmond weather was typical for July - hot and humid, with evening thunderstorms. All the public pools opened, including the one in my neighborhood, and I watched kids in bathing suits riding their bikes, with brightly colored towels over their shoulders. The neighbor's across the street had several cars in their driveway, as did our neighbor next door. A whiff of the thick "fresh" air carried the aroma of outdoor barbecues.

My son and daughter-in-law came over for the traditional hamburgers, potato salad and ice tea - along with baked chicken, as per Marilyn's request. We enjoyed ourselves, chatting about movies, and TV shows, books, and the latest news from our lives. We even reminisced about moments in my son's childhood. A good time was had by all.

Later that evening, while watching the news, I was abruptly reminded of what Memorial Day is supposed to be about. It's not like I didn't know. I just conveniently pushed it into some informational compartment in my brain. But, seeing all those gravestones - listening to parents of soldiers lost in Iraq and Afghanistan - jolted the importance of this holiday to the forefront of my mind. I listened as news commentators talked about honoring those who died fighting for our country - or fighting for our freedom.

And, then, something inside me hit a snag.

When I think of WWI and WWII - I can grasp the reason for these wars. I think of Hitler - and the 6 million Jews who were exterminated - and I am glad that our country fought for what was right. The Vietnam War got clouded in it's purpose - and ended with scars on our Nation's heart that will be there forever. Still - all these soldiers in these conflicts bravely fought and served the United States - just as the soldiers do today. They deserve honor, and respect - and awe.

I don't understand the war with Iraq - I don't think many of us do, anymore. We can't deceive ourselves into thinking we are "fighting for our country" - or "fighting for our freedom". It seems to have so much more to do with power and control. And - I believe, that if we stay in Iraq for 50 years, nothing will really change there.

So, in saying all of that - I think today's soldiers deserve an extra- helping of appreciation. They are serving consecutive terms, they are being asked to fight an enemy that is difficult to recognize - and they are doing it all with no end in sight - and no defined attainable goal. And - they are doing it under the flag of an increasingly polarized United States.

As I watched the faces of some of these young soldiers on the TV last night - those still in harm's way on foreign soil, I wanted to hold them close - to tell them I wish there was something I could do to bring them home. I wanted them to be with their families, enjoying hamburgers and celebrating the wonders of freedom in America. I wanted things to be clear about this war - I wanted our country to be united again - I wanted to feel good about being an American, knowing that the whole world respected our country, instead of despising us, like they do now.

I wanted these things. I still do.

Memorial Day - a day to remember, to honor, and to think about our country, and what it really means today to be an American. A day to speak out for these brave young soldiers. A day to renew our resolve as a Nation to bring them home - to refocus ourselves on what is important so that we can, once again, be proud to be called an American.

POST-MORTEM

It seems that I receive more mail than ever - and not one piece of it is something that I want! Every day brings an unwelcome pile of catalogs, advertisements, and dreaded bills. I long for the days when the mail was something to be eagerly anticipated - the days when actual handwritten letters were delivered for a few pennies. Now it takes 41 cents to send a payment. Good Grief.

I love e-mail as much as everyone else. I really do. But, I am also aware that our culture is losing something - a valuable skill, really. We are losing the ability to give the gift of time...the time it takes to sit quietly and thoughtfully compose a letter - scrawled in our own unique script - and express ourselves through carefully arranged vocabulary.

Today, it is instant communication - there is no sweet agonizing waiting time while our heartfelt words travel across the miles to reach the intended recipient. We know that no one is eagerly waiting for the postman to deliver our treasured thoughts. Now, we have an entire generation who is text messaging, with an abbreviated language all their own. I was in Target yesterday, and while going through the book section I found three young adult novels that are nothing but text messages. There are no paragraphs - no complete sentences - just page after page of text messages conveying the story.

Okay - I realize that I sound like an old fart. I am. But, even admitting that, I still feel strongly that we are creating a culture of increased alienation. We are losing any pretense of patience as we continue to race through life at this ridiculous pace. Kids text messages while sitting right next to each other! As a society, we are moving more and more away from face-to-face communication. Forget the handwritten letters! Even the time spent looking for greeting cards is fast becoming a thing of the past. E-cards are quick, and free - and they almost eliminate the possibility of missing a birthday or anniversary. It is easy to respond at the last minute! (I will admit to using these on occasion. Really, some of them are cute! But, in my defense, I am still a greeting card enthusiast!)

My handwriting has become completely illegible through lack of use, and yet, I still purchase note cards every now and then, hoping to inspire myself to send SOMEONE a note! That plan is not really working so far. But, I remain ready in case inspiration strikes!

And, I refuse to learn the language of texting. Words are too wonderful to mutilate. At least, that's my opinion.

Have a terrific holiday weekend!

UNMASKING THE WORLD

"You need not do anything. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Just wait - and you need not even wait; just become quiet and still and solitary and the world will offer itself to you to be unmasked. It has no choice. It will roll in ecstasy at your feet." Rainer Maria Rilke

I have been watching the Discovery channel's series, Planet Earth - and I feel like I am part of what Rilke was saying in the quote above. I have been watching the world roll in ecstasy at my feet!

I purposely did not watch the show when it was televised in parts on the Discovery channel a month ago. I waited until the DVD came out - and I am glad that I did. I am able to immerse myself in the wonder of life any time I want. I have never seen anything more glorious than this series. The photography is breathtaking - allowing the viewer to glimpse life with unprecedented intimacy. It leaves me in awe of creation - of all life - and it certainly puts things into perspective.

As I have mentioned several times on this blog - we are inundated with NEWS - negative, stressful, argumentative, confusing reports that clamor for our attention in this fast-paced life we all lead. Viewing these DVD's gives me the chance to stop - to be still - and to learn from nature how to sift through the noise and find the essence of what gives our existence meaning.

I have seen how every living creature is dependent on the other - how even the tiniest drop of dew plays an essential part in maintaining life. Everything is important - every grain of sand, every rainstorm, every bank of fog, every cactus, every flower, every block of ice, and even every insect. I have a clearer vision of how vast our planet is - and how varied and unique the creatures who inhabit it really are.

We have all seen nature shows before. But, honestly, this is different. There is no agenda here. Even in showing the natural and necessary aspect of predatory animal behavior, the viewer is not subjected to unnecessary violence. I always hated watching things like a lion tearing a baby deer apart. But in this series - you know it happens, but you do not have to watch it. It is not highlighted - but simply shown in an objective, informational light without dwelling on the ugliness of it.

By observing nature - I see that all living things depend on each other. They are driven by amazing instinct that defies explanation. They aren't plotting ways to blow each other up - or scheming to hoard possessions or riches. They only take what they need to survive, and seem to know when enough is enough. Not one species feels the need to be the only one in the jungle, or in the desert, or the sea - they co-exist. Naturally. I wonder why we can't follow their example.

Get the DVD - it is money well-spent. Then, find a quiet place and let Mother Earth whisper her secrets to your heart. Who knows - you may even find yourself filled with an urge to hug a tree! Stranger things have happened.

SAY IT ISN'T SO!!!!

I am sad. I simply can't believe that Melinda Dolittle was voted off American Idol last night. Okay - I know in the light of everyday tragedies, this contest is frivolous, at best. But, Melinda is such a remarkable talent - whose flawless performances astounded me week after week - and whose sweet heart is transparently obvious. I wanted the "best man/woman" to win this time - and once again, I end up disappointed.

This is not to take anything away from Blake or Jordin. Both are talented, too - but simply not in the same league as Melinda. Blake is unique - a real performance artist. I'm not sure that will translate well to CD's. A big part of his appeal is WATCHING him - so except through music videos, and live concerts - the audience won't have that aspect to enjoy by just purchasing his music. Jordin has a big voice - and is a young girl. Lots of time for her to grow into her career. If I had to choose one of these to be in the final with Melinda, I would have chosen Jordin. Her voice is far superior to Blake's. But - who asked me?!

I have to confess that I DID vote. I voted an astounding 210 times for Melinda. I secretly wondered if I was out of my mind, to tell you the truth. Here I am - 53 year old woman, investing so much time pushing redial on my phone to take part in this crazy contest. I hope it was not just old fogies, like me, who supported her. If that is true - don't tell me!

So - I probably won't even watch the finals. But, I will wait for Melinda to put our her CD and then I will happily buy it. And - I am making a vow - right now - before all of you - that I will NEVER get so caught up in this stupid program again.

At least, not until next season.

WRINKLES SHOULD BE ONLY A LAUNDRY CONCERN

These wrinkly pups are so ugly they are cute. They don't concern themselves with creams, chemical peels, facelifts, or Botox. They're simply loved for who they are. When it comes to wrinkles, I suppose all women should wish for a dog's life.

I am really bothered by this obsession with age. Perhaps because I am now 53 - and the fine lines are quickly turning into deep crevices, thanks to years of my youth spent in the sun. I want to embrace the sweet logic of Mark Twain when he said, "Wrinkles should merely indicate where smiles have been." Really - that is so nice. Unfortunately, in our culture, it is also fantasy fiction.

I currently subscribe to People magazine, but I'm not sure I will renew for another year. Just looking at it makes me feel old. All the photos are of young glamourous stars who have more money than sense. And in this issue, there was a feature story on Virginia Madsen and her love for Botox. She is actually a spokeswoman for it - but declines to say how much she is paid for the endorsements. The article listed some of the prices for this type of procedure. There is a gel filler that adds fullness to the folds in the skin. It lasts for six months. Cost is $600 per syringe. Not clear how many syringes are needed. Collagen is $500 and something called Radiesse, made from a form of calcium, is $850.

Still, there is the sound of a distant drum on the horizon that tells women to own their age, to embrace it. In some magazines I have even seen the phrase, "Older women are hot." Of course, that is usually accompanied by a photo of Helen Mirren, or Susan Sarandon. Nothing ordinary about them. Last month, Dove launched Pro-age, a line of skin and hair care for plus-50 women. The campaign included print and TV advertisements fearturing real non-model, older women photographed in the nude. The pictures were tastefully done - and yet, there was something troublesome about them. It wasn't just the shock of seeing models who were anything but typical - it was more about the fact that nothing was really changing. We are still objectifying women as sexual objects. Why should it matter so much what we look like, when what we say and do is so much more valuable?

And yes, I have read the books that herald the wisdom of the crone. Good grief! Who wants to be called a crone?! I just don't find this avenue of thought helpful at all. I don't want to go gray and throw away my makeup. I don't want to grow my own vegetables and get together with other old gals when there is a full moon, to sit in the woods somewhere around a campfire while channeling ancient goddesses. Too wierd for me. And, what is the point of that? We still have to live in the real world.

And, that is the world where older men are considered distinquished and older women are labeled simply "old." The world where 20 year olds advertise wrinkle cream. And 70 year old men lust after them. In the April issue of Vogue magazine, Woody Allen called the actress and cover girl, Scarett Johansson "criminally sexy." He is 71. She is 22. Ick.

Maybe it is up to us - my generation of women - to close our eyes and ears to this nonsense, and forge ahead on a different path. To keep dreaming, and learning and growing as we embrace every day as a gift filled with possibilities.

"Nobody grows old merely by living a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals. Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up on enthusiasm wrinkles the soul." Samuel Ullman said that. Just because this bit of wisdom came from a man doesn't mean that we can't embrace it as our own mantra for living.

Why is wrinkle-free desirable anyway? I like a face with character - a face that indicates that a woman is interesting, witty, and eternally curious. Wrinkle-free is polyester -miserably uncomfortable and as out of date as a leisure suit.

I do not want a leisure-suit face.

I HAB A CODE IND MY NOSE!

I have a cold. A nasty, nose-running, coughing, choking cold. Dammit. It's all I can think about. So - you, my dear readers, get to think about it, too!

Did you know, that according to doctors, a cold seems to last a week without treatment, and seven days with treatment? I kid you not! That is actually a quote from the Medical Register. It also says in this source that chicken soup has been shown to promote drainage. That is the last thing I need. Drainage is not my problem!

On another medical site, they list the symptoms of a cold. Is there really anyone on this planet that does not know the symptoms of a cold? Give me a cure!

Colds are most contagious during the first 2 to 4 days after symptoms appear, and may be contagious for UP TO THREE WEEKS! I was with a friend last Friday who was recovering from a cold. She assured me she was not contagious. Liar, liar, pants on fire!

On the medical website, KidsHealth, they have a long list of prevention suggestions. The first one is to stay away from anyone who has a cold. Now - that is profound, don't you think? My favorite suggestion, however was this one: Never pick up other people's used mucus-filled tissues. Okay. I'll be sure and avoid that next time. I promise.

I will leave you with this one last visual aid that I found while during my research. Actually, I think they should patent this one!

Now - you have to admit - this could really come in handy!

TAKE YOUR PICK

I have reached a decision. That isn't always easy for me. Here it is: I've decided that I have to make too many decisions.

Seriously.

Just going to the grocery store is ridiculous. How many different kinds of cereal do we need?? What about toothpaste? I bet there are 40 or more different kinds of toothpaste - and they all clean your teeth! Aisle after aisle of choices and decisions to be made. sigh.

It isn't just the grocery store - it is cell phone providers, Internet services, car insurance, health insurance, banks, retirement plans, computers, mp3 players, cars, tires, schools, TVs, on and on and on it goes. An overwhelming wealth of choices to be made over EVERYTHING. I even saw an ad on TV about choosing the color of your air conditioning unit. Black, Champagne, or Terra Cotta. Give me a break.

And don't forget churches.

It always amazes me how many different churches crowd one area. And the funny thing is, that often, they are basically the same. You have the First Baptist Church, the Second Baptist Church (I've never seen a Third Baptist - not sure why), a Reformed Baptist (reformed from what?), Good Will Baptist (as opposed to Bad Will Baptist?). I'm not picking on the Baptist denomination, I'm just very familiar with it. The same is true for Methodist, Presbyterian, Episcopal, etc. etc. We have more religious institution and spiritual tradition choices than we do cereal. Dear God!

With all these choices, are we any happier? Doesn't seem like it. Actually, there appears to be an epidemic of depression. And - just think of all the pharmaceutical choices we have to handle that problem. Or, how about erectile dysfunction? Choices there, too - but apparently they all take you to that same cliff with two bathtubs overlooking the ocean. What?!

So, in life, we have the freedom to choose, and choose, and choose. Gives me a headache. In some ways I long for the good old days when selections were few - and underwear even had the day of the week embroidered on it to eliminate confusion.

The simple life. That's for me. Now - what's for dinner? Don't ask me!

WHEN IS A WEED NOT A WEED?

"The dandelion is the strength and cunning and power of the lion whose name it carries, a brilliant flash of yellow in a solid sea of green, and the lightness of a wish on the wind...a gossamer moon waiting for you to come and make your wishes known, to carry them away on wings. It is the flower of the god and goddess - sun and moon, vibrant and full and beauteous, in life and in death. "

From Staci Anne Grove's tribute to the dandelion in the May/June issue of "Sacred Journey: The Journal of Fellowship in Prayer."

Wow. Made me want to trot out in my yard and find one! So, how many other treasures do we miss because we fail to see them with new eyes? I remember, as a kid, making wishes on dandelion fuzz and then blowing it into the breeze. I can even remember the smell of the juice from the just-picked stem on my hands. Back in those days - in the dark ages - I don't think people were as obsessed with their lawns as they are now. I don't recall my father ever complaining about weeds. He simply cut the grass. But now there is an entire industry devoted to beautiful, weed-free lawns. Seems to be more admiration and less activity. In other words, we are admiring our lovely lawn from the comfort of air-conditioning, and not rolling around in it - proudly sporting badges of bright green grass stains on our clothes signifying we had a good time. Weeds have become the enemy - something to be chemically destroyed at all costs.

I suppose it is the old adage, "Beauty is in the eye of the beholder." Maybe we choose what we want to see. If we want to see the negative side of life - we do. But, with a little adjustment, everything can change. If a weed can be gloriously described, as Staci Anne Grove did in the opening paragraph, then why can't our perception of other things be equally transformed. A rainy day can be changed from gloomy and depressing to an snugly opportunity to curl up with a good book. A traffic jam can be a chance to really listen to the lyrics on that CD we've been mindlessly playing in our car. An evening of thunderstorms and no electricity can become the perfect opportunity to reconnect with our family. On and on and on. So many things come to mind. AND - when we apply new eyes - eyes of grace and compassion - to the way we see difficult people, then our entire world can change.

That irritating person can become a glorious dandelion, with a little creative visualization on our part and not someone we want to yank out by the roots.

So, go play in the grass and find a few weeds to appreciate. And while you are there, make a wish or two. It can't hurt.

FORGET ABOUT IT?

Memory is a tricky thing - at least, mine is. I can hear something fascinating on the news, and the moment I try to tell someone what I heard, all the details simply vanish and all I can say is, "I heard this neat thing, and uh, it was something about, uh, well..."

Then, I launch into an illogical rambling, as I try to retrieve the details that tie the whole thing together. But, alas, they are usually long gone.

This disorder is selective, however. Background music has a way of penetrating my brain with the precision of a surgeon, and it plays on a continuous loop - until I want to scream! The other day, I was unconsciously humming Marilyn's cell phone ring tone. sigh.

I have a mental block against numbers, too. Every time someone asks me my cell phone number, I panic. In my defense, I never call myself - so I might have an excuse. But, also, we have all these automatic number retrieval systems in place - and so the need for exercising our memory muscles with numbers isn't as important as it used to be. I can still remember my street address when I was six - but I cannot remember my address from 10 years ago. And those damn times tables will be forever with me - except when we get up to the 8's and 9's. I was always fuzzy on those. Thank God for calculators.

I can remember names pretty well - at least, first names. But don't test me on that, because if I mess up, then I will be depressed, knowing that I truly suffer from CRS...Can't Remember S--t!

So, I will continue to write myself notes and highlight books - and then I will struggle to remember where I put them.