Nature. Animals. Babies. Grandparents. People who keep moving through grief and loss. People who love though their situation seems impossible. Ingenuity. Talent. Persistence. Dedication. I am in awe of these treasures. They inspire me to keep trying. Keep working. Keep smiling. Keep living. Keep the faith.
Hollow, used up. Unfulfilled. Devoid of life, joy, hope. Empty cookie jars, empty bank accounts and wallets. Vacant houses, vacant positions. Visit the nearest mall and you’ll encounter vacant expressions, sightless eyes, mindless activity. We sometimes find ourselves without direction, purpose or goals. There’s a remedy. Introspection, soul searching, meditation. Be still. Watch and listen. Allow time to pass you instead of just passing time. It’s a dangerous world, my friends and effort is required. Don’t lose your way. And you might think about taking the hand of the person next to you.
Today I’m looking for pearls. Not the fresh water, cultured or Mabe variety. I’m not that crazy about shellfish but if that’s the only way to obtain the pearls, then let’s get to it!
Pearls of wisdom…wouldn’t it be fabulous if you could find them in an oyster. Some days I’d be willing to dig through some pretty bad trash if I knew I’d find a few pearls. Ah, well, it’s just not that easy. Or is it? When was the last time you spoke to your grandparents, if you’re lucky enough to still have the darlings around? They’ve forgotten more than we know.
Grandmother (my spouse’s Grandmother) used to tell me about her family coming to this country (She meant southern Arkansas) from Kentucky in a covered wagon. They logged, planted, laid railroad ties, raised livestock, made quilts – these were people who knew the meaning of hard work. They were too tired for mischief at the end of the day. Grandmother married at 14 and by the time she was 32 she was a widow with 8 children. In 1950 the opportunities for women were scarce. Grandmother became a migrant farm worker. She and her children traveled via pick up truck from Florida to Michigan following crops and harvesting along the way. She put all 8 kids through school this way! When her children were grown she remarried and enjoyed several years with Grandpa Mac. She bequeathed many pearls of wisdom – work like there’s no tomorrow because there isn’t; handle your responsibilities with determination; life has a way of teaching humility – learn it quickly with grace and humor. Continue reading “The World Is My Oyster”
A sad word at times, conjuring images of something which has been torn down, demolished, taken apart, used, misused, abused. Tragedy occurs, but then, more often than not, the victims, shored up by friends, loved ones and, in our online world, complete strangers, take a step forward. Then two, four steps…gathering tools, courage, resources along the way. They search out remnants from the debris, refashion and rearrange them. A collage evolves. Time moves in its linear fashion and as it does so, a new structure – or perhaps a new person – emerges.
A shiny, squeaky clean, surface now covers the collection of found items gleaned from the remains of what was. All things are new – sort of. Those at the center of the rebuilding will tell you they are changed by the experience. How can they not be? Whether the impetus for rebuilding was an act of nature such as fire, flood, tornado or some atrocity one person has wreaked upon another, change is inevitable. We choose how to go forward. Each day requires strength, determination…we choose or the choices will be made for us. It’s a dangerous world, my friends. Lead, follow, or get out of the way.