Come Alive

Come Alive by Jonathan Mead

Life wastes itself while we are preparing to live. – Ralph Waldo Emerson

If you had one week left to live, would you still be doing what you’re doing now? In what areas of your life are you preparing to live? Take them off your To Do list and add them to a To Stop list. Resolve to only do what makes you come alive.

Bonus: How can your goals improve the present and not keep you in a perpetual “always something better” spiral?

(Author: Jonathan Mead)

 

I’ve spent much of my life saying “as soon as _____, then I’ll ______”.  I cringe to think of how much of my time has been wasted in this way, but I don’t think I do this anymore…not so much.

There are still things I’d like to do and don’t, but the reality is that what has kept me from these things has been time and resources, and other priorities.  Here’s the reality:  as a parent, the kids come first, and they become the center of our lives, as they should.  Time passes so quickly once children enter our lives – it’s so cliche, but so true, and each year, it seems to speed up.  Hard to believe that this year went by faster than last, but I swear, it’s true.  It feels like my daughter just started the fifth grade, and now she’s getting ready for sixth.  It’s a blur…it really is.

So, this being the reality, I can’t think of anything more pressing than being there for every possible moment of my children’s lives…I don’t want to miss a second if I can help it.  As much as I’d love to travel more, my kids’ sports take up enough weekend time to make this nearly impossible.  I hate to miss a game because I know how much it means to them to be watched…to have our full attention as they swing the bat, dribble down the court, or make the winning play.  Even when they don’t seem to notice, I know they are glad we’re there.  I feel bad for the kids whose parents hardly make it to anything because they are so busy “living their lives”.

Right now – living my life means being here with and for my kids.  It won’t be long before they are both off on their own:  seven years for my daughter and twelve for my stepson.  It may sound like an awful long time to a person without kids, but for parents, it flies by in a second.

Still…I yearn for time in the mountains, so I make sure I get there whenever I can – with or without the kids.  In the next month or two, I’m planning a mother-daughter trip for the two of us, up to Asheville to visit friends, get into the woods, and maybe even get in a little whitewater rafting.  Perhaps I’ll go back up on my own while she’s vacationing with her father, and my stepson is at his mother’s house.

I’ve also started working out consistently, and this, combined with healthy eating, has given me a lot of energy I didn’t used to have.  It’s helped to motivate me to stop procrastinating and wasting time…After years of wishing I had a vegetable garden, coveting those of friends, and lamenting the lack of yardage with full-sun that would make one of my own possible, I have finally made this happen.

Even though I loathe being out in the summer heat, I got off my ass and ripped out the grass and other crap that was growing on the side of my house; this is the only place that gets enough sun, but for years I figured it would annoy the neighbors if I made that into a garden.  That was my excuse…that, and the heat, and my lack of energy.

Today I dug holes, raked dirt, planted seeds and plants.  It might be a bit of a late start, but I’m going to have my own cucumbers, green beans, squash, zucchini and tomatoes by next month!  Hell yeah!

My husband and I were given a little fig tree back around Christmas;  the hostess of a party we went to had it out in a pot and said they were going to throw it out unless someone took.  We did…but it sat in our carport for months and some days I wondered if we would bother to get in the ground on time.  Thankfully, we did – and it’s got 4 little baby figs on it now!   Pretty, pre-tty cool.

and I have no time for this right now because what I really want to do is sit down and spend a little time with my daughter.  She is going to her dad’s in a bit and I don’t want to spent this time on my computer.  So…gnite.  My apologies for this totally half-assed contribution, but it is what it is.  If I have time to read it later, maybe I’ll improve upon it, but it’s doubtful.

 

 

 

If I could travel to one particular place, it would be…

Travel by Chris Guillebeau

If we live truly, we shall see truly. - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Not everyone wants to travel the world, but most people can identify at least one place in the world they’d like to visit before they die. Where is that place for you, and what will you do to make sure you get there?

(Author: Chris Guillebeau)

 

Here it is 10:00 pm and I’m just now getting to this, after a long day gardening, meeting with a volunteer group I’m involved with at a local farmers’ market, and then a big birthday bash for some friends. I’m whooped.

But I’m doing this.  Here’s the problem with this one for me – I want to go everywhere and see everything, so I have no idea what to say.  I should blindfold myself and stick a point onto a world map – pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey-style to pick the place.

But that would really take too much time, so let’s pick a place:  the ruins at Machu Pichu will do, but if I could get access to some ancient ruins that no one can get to, that would be better still.  The idea of standing in the middle of a desolate forest, where nature has taken over the site where ancient humans lived thousands of years ago takes my breath away.  To gaze upon the artwork crafted by the hands of – who? who lived so long ago…we think of our ancestors as “primitive,” but how different from us were they really?  They lived there lives day by day, had children and loved them…sought to shelter themselves, feed themselves, to see those children thrive – just as we do.

Were there drums and dancing?  Were there seasonal rituals in which every soul became lost in a throng of deep connection that made them all one?  How did they handle the diversity of emotion and interaction that keeps us from continuous harmony?  Did they know things that are now lost to us or have we actually progressed as we tend to believe we have?  Did they treat each other more harshly than we do now or has little really changed over the course of time and the stretch of miles?

What inspired their artwork?  What songs did they sing?  What sort of stories did they pass down from generation to generation? What were their daily rituals, and their priorities?  Were they just trying to survive or did they have the luxury of philosophical pontification as we do today?  What were their spiritual beliefs?  Were they lucky enough to live in long stretches of peace?

As I believe that anything is possible, I long to travel across “time” to witness these lives firsthand…invisible, of course…so I can be the proverbial fly on the wall as life unfolds around me.  Wouldn’t that be so frickin’ cool?!

Maybe I was there in a prior incarnation, and who I am today is a direct result of my experience there…my fascination with the esoteric and spiritual having come from that lifetime, in that body so “long ago”.  We are all connected – past, present, future…and perhaps there is really no difference between these.

…

 

 

 

 

One Strong Belief

One Strong Belief by Buster Benson

It is easy in the world to live after the world’s opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after our own; but the great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude. - Ralph Waldo Emerson, Self-Reliance

The world is powered by passionate people, powerful ideas, and fearless action. What’s one strong belief you possess that isn’t shared by your closest friends or family? What inspires this belief, and what have you done to actively live it?

(Author: Buster Benson)

Gosh, this one is tough because I could go so many directions with this, and I have absolutely no time today to think, and that’s a bummer…I’d like to give this one some real thought.  At the moment, my mind has so many ideas whizzing in and out that I can’t even pick one to focus on…and I’ve got dinner cooking and kids running around.  Yikes.

OH WELL – here goes!  I’m going for a fun one.

I believe that anything, and I do mean anything, is possible.  When I was a kid, I dreamed I was flying, almost every night.  Even now, I can close my eyes and feel that dizzying thrill of swooping at breakneck speed towards the ground from incredible heights, knowing I wouldn’t hit, but feeling my heart in my throat all the same.

Often, those dreams involved my flying over amusement parks that were nestled in green valleys, softly edged by the willowy branches of a hundred trees.  These were nothing like Carowinds or Disney, where concrete and artifice have obliterated any sense of nature.  The rides were just as advanced, but they all had a sort of grace to them – they seemed to come forth from and in balance with the earth.  No bulldozing or razing was involved in the making of these.

Other times, I’d find myself in a random situation – at a basketball game, or in the school cafeteria.  Something ominous would approach and I’d lift myself into the air in order to stay safe, survey the situation, manipulate the order of things.  It felt like swimming – like breastroke…the way I would use my arms to pump the air back, pushing forward against it like water.  Neato!

As a kid, one of my very best friends was KB, who lived down the street.  I think I have as many memories of being at her house as I do at mine.  So many wonderful memories…like the time we wrote our names on the wall in her closet with nail polish, so people would always know we had been there and would wonder who we were and what we were like.  That was, gosh…over thirty years ago.  I heard that the people who have since bought that house decided to leave our names there instead of painting over it…isn’t that wonderful?!

So, one night I was over there having dinner, and at some point I decided to tell everyone I could fly.  I went on and on, animatedly describing some of my best flying adventures.  At one point, I looked over at her dad, who was a really funny guy.  He had this funny look on his face, like he had been holding his breath and couldn’t do it much longer.  I guess I asked him what was up, when he burst out laughing.

“You realize these are dreams, right?”  he laughed.

“No”.  I said.  “I really can fly.”  At this, he lost it, guffawing for what felt like ten minutes, but was probably more like one.  It might be that everyone started laughing at that moment, but I really don’t remember.  When I go to that moment, it’s in slow-motion…as though I am at a different speed than everyone around me who is blurred.

This was the first time it had ever even occurred to me that these were only dreams.  Man…crushing.  I was in a slow sort of shock, and I don’t remember the rest of the evening.

But years later, here’s the thing.  I think he was wrong – I did fly then, and I can fly now.  Yep.  Maybe not in the literal, physical sense, but maybe so.  If nothing else, I do think that when we dream, our souls travel in ways our conscious minds cannot fathom, and it’s as real as anything else.  Sure do.

So, I wanted to write about something that wouldn’t make me sound like a nutcase and I have the feeling I did just that.  Oh well.  I don’t care.  I believe there is a huge difference between childish and child-like, and I embrace any hints of myself that hang on to that child…so at the periphery of my mind, I am always open to the idea of flying, invisibility, time-travel, and any other “magic” the universe might offer.  fa real.

gotta go.  no time to even read through it…hope to have more time tomorrow.

Today…

Today…a bittersweet joy as I stood in the crowd watching my dear child step onto the platform, her back turned to the familiar as she leapt onto the next car, eager for the next leg of her journey.

 

Today’s Prompt:

Your genuine action will explain itself, and will explain your other genuine actions. Your conformity explains nothing. The force of character is cumulative. – Ralph Waldo Emerson, Self-Reliance

If ‘the voyage of the best ship is a zigzag line of a hundred tracks,’ then it is more genuine to be present today than to recount yesterdays. How would you describe today using only one sentence? Tell today’s sentence to one other person. Repeat each day.

(Author: Liz Danzico

 

#Trust 30 1: Fifteen Minutes to Live

Only fifteen minutes left to live.

My first thought is of the love of my life, the daughter who chose me and then waited to be born. It was a beautiful choice, the gift of a lifetime and I thank her often for it.  Who would I be now if not for her entrance into my life? I’m grateful not to be able to answer that.

Do I have time to run over to the school and just stand back and watch her for the next bit of time?   No…but the thought of her having fun with her friends makes me smile.  It’s the last day of school and one big party.  I can see her now with a big grin on her face, joking around with her friends about some viral video they all imitate to excess.

We just spent the weekend at the beach and took her sweet friend with us.  I imagine the two of them telling everyone about the porpoises they saw and about how they came THIS CLOSE to getting clipped by a giant crab over in the swash.  There’s the story of how they almost didn’t get out of the mirror maze, and all the candy they saw at “It’s Sugar”. There was even some sort of breath spray that makes  you speak with an Irish accent.  Really?

“Oh my God, it was AMAZING!”

I wasn’t going to let them go to the big candy store, but in hindsight, I’m glad I did.  Such a small thing made them both so happy, and in the end, isn’t that what matters?