Sleeping Beauty

To Whom It May Concern:

I wrote this poem a few years back for my husband to thank him for putting up with such a tumultuous and noisy wife.

 I looked for it everywhere this morning as I actually WOKE MYSELF from a dead sleep with a snore/snort/roll over laugh. 

Me,    in bed.
Not the sweet, quiet beauty 
   With pouty lips and smooth cheek to pillow-
But, instead,
  A wild, tangled mess of noise and movement.
Waking from unconscious battles with loud snorts,
Only to fall back into heated, one-sided debates.

No inanimate dreaming for me.

Amazing then,
   That every day when I wake (far from my side and wrapped tight in every cover),
    That he still smiles at me, amused and tender,
As if he had spent a night of pleasurable ease with some
demure lover.

Love that survives all the big,all the little, and all the annoying moments of each day.
Ladies and gentlemen of the court, that is one awesomely wonderful miracle.

Sweet dreams,
Sleeping Beauty

A Sweet Refrain

  I was in the checkout line, looking a little rough in a rugged ponytail, worn tee, and old yoga pants.  I was feeling rough on the inside too.  Actually, I think jagged is a better descriptor.

Yep, I was feeling jagged inside; sharp, pointy, scratchy, and craggy.
 I imagined myself as a thousand pointed icicles putting Greek yogurt on the checkout conveyor belt.  (a ridiculous feat to be sure.)

I took a deep breath.
I tried to reframe.
I took a deep breath.
I tried to reframe.
I took a deep breath

and listened.

There it was under the muzac of the store, under my icicles of ego glass, under my attempts to reframe....

 peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.

Ah, there it was. My needed sweet refrain.

peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.peace.

I smiled at the kid in the cart behind me bugging his mom for a candy bar.

I was not jagged.  (Of course the ponytail and the "I need to do laundry" ensemble had not changed.  I was kind of hoping that such an internal epiphany would equal a Wonder Woman outfit but no such luck.)


I asked those who love me to pray for peace this past week.  I meant for them to pray for those who were lost and hurting.

Luckie me, my loved ones are generous in all things including prayer.

Luckie me, God's intent was louder than the piped in Beyonce in Giant.

Salient

"Sometimes, I just need to see your face and smush your cheeks," my friend said to me.

I smiled, ear to ear, making my cheeks noticeably more smushable. "Sometimes I just need to see your face too."

And then it hit me.
The point of all points.
The big one.
The truth known to everyone (even the ones that act like they don't know it.)

There is no greater gift than to look at each person with love.
 


 A visit with a dear friend, a basket of fried pickles, and a friendly reminder of a salient truth; pretty profound  for Texas Roadhouse on a Tuesday.  Gotta love those everyday miracles.

The Big Reframe

Yesterday was a stressful day at work. I let it get the better of me and my typically optimistic attitude.  As I reflected last night, it occurred to me that although today will probably not be any less stressful, I could choose to find the positive in it and I can always choose my perspective.

That thought gave me great hope.

It also re-engaged my fortitude and with that lens, I thought about the day again.  Here is yesterday through my rose colored glasses:

• My stress was caused by bureaucracy, not tragedy.
• Although stressed, I was still styling in my animal print top.
• Our philosophy of doing what is good for kids and families is good for our community.  The rest is details.
• My need to always do everything perfectly drives myself and those around me crazy.  I need to get over my bad self.
• And, finally, most importantly, I work with amazing people who care about me and supported me in my slightly crazed, somewhat teary state.

After reviewing that list, what is not to love about that day?

The ability to reframe... an everyday blessing to me.

Blank and Sturdy

Today I bought a tri-fold cardboard for a presentation I need to do.   I must have looked at 5 different kinds and ended up paying $2 more for the extra sturdy version.  It is something special- all blank and rigid with two neat folds and made from recycled cardboard.  I carried it carefully to my car so as not to ding the corners.

 I have to admit it. I was giddy. 

I actually had a little "coming to Jesus" with myself in the parking lot to reign in my overwhelming desire to run like a wild lady back into Staples.  I really wanted that  giant assortment of multi-colored slim Sharpies and some rubber cement. 

 My mind raced all the way to school thinking of the clever and unusual things I could put on that board for my presentation.  Oh, the possibilities!!!

I was thinking, "Tri-fold cardboard, an everyday miracle!"

But then I realized, it wasn't the cardboard.  It was the potential making me smile. 
That blank slate, the unfettered line, the whole world in a tri-fold! 

P.S- I set up the tri-fold on my kitchen table for inspiration. It is adjustable and not easy to knock down- just the way I like my potential. :)



 

Plant Magnetism

  I know that tomorrow is Valentine's Day and you are probably thinking that I should write some super sweet love story with kissing and stuff. (I have some of those, but to share today would be too cliche). :)


  I visited a magnificent tree this weekend.   I was drawn off the trail to its roots.  I craned my neck to see its top and put my cheek against its living suit.

  It is an old tree;  probably escaped the loggers of the late 1800's through some exciting twist of fate or natural magic.  It has that aura of improbability about it. 

  It is a wrinkly tree with deep rivets in its bark.  When I put my fingers into the folds, there was a smoothness at its core.  Fascinating.


That tree has stood there through generations of human foolishness and grew tall and round and wise.  It understands the present of the present with its snowflakes or summer sun.

I fell in love with that tree on Saturday in a little knoll on a little trail in central Pennsylvania. 

I would have stayed all day to watch the snow accumulate on its branches and bask in its stately peace, but eventually it whispered to me,
"Get along child, you have some growing to do."

Finding my foot... on the floor

I am not known for my grace or coordination.  In fact, in some circles, I am infamous for the opposite.  I used to mind it a lot; always back line in dance class, falling up the stairs, never hitting a basket with a ball, etc.  But, as I have grown older/wiser, I have come to love my clumsy self (because really what else is there to do?)

So, I celebrate little victories over my body that rejects motor planning like it is its job.  And I enjoy the awkward adventure when victory eludes me.

Today, I found my foot on the floor.

It wasn't pretty, as my friend would say watching me.  Oh no, it was not pretty.  But I did it.  Five times on each side to be exact (not exactly exact, but pretty darn close) and if we are counting it that way I should really say I found both feet on the floor.  That would be a double "atta girl"!

I found my foot with my hand on the opposite side of my body while looking at my other hand that was pointed to the sky and with slightly bended knees and no peaking.  Wow, it even sounds complicated to write it!

Tonight I have a happy heart because I found my feet and I have friends who encourage me even when I can't find them.  

"A little more to the left MacLuckie."
"No, your other left."

:)Luckie me.