Originally posted on Mirth and Motivation:
“A life spent making mistakes is not only more honorable, but more useful than a life spent doing nothing.” George Bernard Shaw
Motivation Mondays: MISTAKES!
Today I choose life. Every morning when I wake up I can choose joy, happiness, negativity, pain… To feel the freedom that comes from being able to continue to make mistakes and choices – today I choose to feel life, not to deny my humanity but embrace it. Kevyn Aucoin
What do mistakes mean to you? If you read last week’s Motivation Monday post, you’d remember that the man with a headache was suffering because he was not only judgmental of others but, he also had his sanctimonious halo tightly screwed to his head. Unless you are like my tight halo wearer, you’ve had your share of mistakes; some of them you might have repeated quite a few times until the lesson and message dug…
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Originally posted on thekitchensgarden:
Yesterday John had the day off so he finished and brought home my Winter present. He does not do Christmas and Birthday presents he makes winter presents. Last year it was a chicken tractor. This year it is a free standing home made hay feeder. I took a photo of a NZ one when I was travelling and he set to and made me one of my own. Isn’t that wonderful.
The idea is that the cow puts her head through the uprights to get the hay and remains in there to chew it so all the falling and trailing hay goes back in the pile. There is limited sideways jostling so the cows get to eat in peace. It works remarkably well. Now when Aunty Del comes back she will not be bullied out of her dinner. Elsie is king of the castle at meal times!
The car feeder is now for…
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Now this is wonderful news! Congrats Miss C!
Originally posted on thekitchensgarden:
The Great News is that I have been asked to speak more than a few words at the Press Publish Conference in Portland, Oregon on March 28th – 2015. I know most of you knew that already but I thought I would make it all official and also tell you a little of what I am going to speak about.
When I first saw the email from Andrea Middleton and Jen Mylo asking me to consider talking to them about coming to a conference with Press Publish – I almost deleted it thinking it was junk mail. ( I am so sorry Andrea! You almost ended up on the cutting room floor!) Have you ever had a delay in your head when you read something and it is so NOT what you expected to read – then there is a blank moment, then a few seconds later you cock your head and look back…
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Originally posted on The Chatter Blog:
I only have one brief thought to share with anyone who needs it today…
I hope someone, in some way, expresses how much they value you today.
If no one does, I hope you express to someone else in some way, how much you value them today.
I have been very blessed in my life to always have a saving grace of some kind. In the form of some person. That when I was in need of finding value-if I couldn’t find it myself-someone always managed to step in and help me see what they saw. I try to pay that forward as best as I can.
I had a friend once tell me she has always known love, been loved, been blessed. And she couldn’t imagine the solitary existence some folks try to survive on. That is a gift.
If you question your value or are just feeling low…
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A perfect post to Robbie Burns!
Originally posted on Peak Perspective:
There is nothing more attractive to me than a big, burly Scotsman dressed in a kilt.
There is nothing more attractive to me than a big, burly Scotsman dressed in a kilt and holding a glass of single malt scotch.
Oops. One more go at this.
There is nothing more attractive to me than a big, burly Scotsman dressed in a kilt, holding a glass of single malt scotch and offering it to ME.
And the great thing about January 25th is that my chances of seeing this attractive vision unfold increases monumentally all because of one charming fellow.
Who happens to be dead.
Nonetheless, Robert Burns is still remembered, admired and hailed around the world. His birthday is celebrated in ways that likely have him wishing he could be there and glad that he is not. It all depends upon what party you end…
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It is always flattering when a post generates a desire by others to share
Originally posted on bridgesburning:
I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member. – Groucho Marx
Types of clubs vary in design, purpose, function, and level of formality. The earliest ones are informal and naturally occur when two or more children engage in routine play. I suppose some psych type person out there will say the earliest club is the one formed between a mother and or father and a newborn.
Some clubs of youth include Boy Scouts, Girl Guides and various other themes and are ‘joined’ by the participating person. In school there are clubs to join or not depending on your wish or desire.
There are other clubs no one wants to join but we find membership when circumstances outside our control force us into them. Stepping into membership is a foreign experience and it takes a bit of time and consideration to figure it out. It isn’t…
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Some mid January inspiration
Originally posted on Eric Tonningsen's "Awakening to Awareness":
“Those who are not looking for happiness are the most likely to find it, because those who are searching forget that the surest way to be happy is to seek happiness for others.” ~ Martin Luther King, Jr.
- To be inspired
These were three of the most frequently searched words/terms in 2014, according to Google. Personally, I am encouraged by this news.
Permit me then, if you will, a somewhat disjointed post; one which makes sense to me though it may not be entirely clear to you.
What else might people be searching for beyond these three foci? Could it be around:
- Forcing breaks or sealing cracks?
- Being a puppet or pulling the strings?
- How to act on one’s dreams?
- Swimming with or against tides?
- Being part of a cure or part of an ongoing disease?
- How to be more open to exploring?
- Could it be…
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Simple – Drama Free -Natural
On October seventh, two thousand and fourteen at ……wait, wait, wait! This is not a report filled with dot dot dot facts closely documented and devoid of feeling, it’s a telling, of an experience. So I start again.
In the fall of this year; not late September, or early December, and certainly not November I had an experience so simple, drama free, and natural feeling I find it difficult to talk about it.
It seems to me that we have been groomed by media, government, world leaders, teachers, purveyors of life and wisdom, to respond to enhanced drama. It’s what sells. Hamburgers, cars, life styles, attitudes, beliefs, politics, religion, acceptability – all sold as a big WOW!
Is it age or is it developing maturity of mind and soul, not age related, that leads me to conclude that the very basis, the very core of our existence lies in a quiet place untouched by human interpretation?
Certain recent events have me playing with ideas and questions that appear elusive and difficult to nail down. Not disturbing in an agitated way.
I had an anaesthetic for an aforementioned problem. I’ve had them before on occasion for some routine matters probably three or four times in the last fifty years and sometimes I remember the odd recovery room event but generally the PACU (post anaesthetic care room) experience is at best pretty foggy.
This one I remember, the experience, clear as a bell as if it happened moments ago.
My first awareness was intense. I felt myself breathing, or really not breathing. A distant part of me felt as I exhaled my last breath and it seemed such a pleasant easy thing to do. I was aware of being at the head of the stretcher and seeing myself lying before me. No, unlike other stories I have heard on this I was not floating above anything looking down.
I was first aware of lightness, NOT the light at the end of a tunnel thing, just feeling very light. Not airy, just aware, young I think, and my only conclusion for thinking that is what I was aware of. For the first time in years I had no pain. No sensation of pain. No sensation of weightiness.
I looked around the large recovery room and was aware of five stretchers along a far wall most with 2 staff at each. The colors were vibrant. The walls, sheets, nurses, machinery. My stretcher then a vacant space and then another stretcher against a far wall perpendicular to the long wall with the five stretchers.
I felt amazed at how perfect my sight was. Everything was absolutely clear. Then I became aware of my hearing. I could hear everything, distinguish every word spoken softly by staff at each station. And its not like conversations going on at the same time, a muddle of noise. I could hear the exact words of each conversation as though I could just zero in at will to each one. I remember thinking I must remember to tell a nurse across the room something related to her vacation she had just returned from.
While I was so clearly attuned to everything around me, in the distance I could hear something clanging, buzzers going off and some sort of activity I felt quite removed from but which seemed to need my attention.
One second, or millisecond I said, “Am I dead?” as I grew more amazed at all around me and at the same time more aware of the kerfuffle going on with noise and activity in my more immediate area. No fear as I recall, more a question of interest.
That’s when it occurred to me that perhaps I should try breathing and at the same time had a flash of wonder at how I was going to get inside this body of mine.
It all seemed to happen in a flash. One moment I am free, unencumbered, weightless and pain free and the next I found trying to take a breath difficult, with a great belt of pain around my body and aware I should call for help, and trying to raise my right arm and thinking that bodies especially arms are so weighty, so heavy.
Finally I could make a sound and kept trying to say, “Pain, high epigastric….” – Thinking to myself that is often symptomatic of cardiac problems in women.
When I opened my eyes the anaesthetist and what seemed a large number of people were around me. A nurse to the left of me was injecting something into my IV and saying to the doctor, “ I am injecting dilaudid now and have already given her oxycodone.” I remember thinking first that I did not know either of those drugs could be given intravenously and second that it was a lot of medicine to be giving to anyone. The anaesthetist told me my EKG was normal.
It worked and my whole body relaxed. I drifted off to sleep now and then for the rest of my recovery room experience and remember a couple of times remembering how nice it was that last breath had felt. I had enough awareness to hear the alarm go off as my oxygen levels lowered and one nurse starting at my bedside saying to another, “its okay, just watch, she will correct herself and start breathing again.” And I did. It took some effort but I did.
I related this story to someone whose immediate response was, “Is that because of the anaesthetic because I don’t believe in religion.”
My immediate response was that this was not a religious thing, it was an energy thing and I was surprised to find myself saying that. I realized also this was not what some might call a Near Death Experience. If it had to be labeled I think it would be more an Out of Body Experience.
This does not negate in anyway religions, believes, or afterlives. This was something that happened that was more immediate more personal, more intimate than can accurately be described. And my fear in trying to write about it that I make it sound more shallow than it was.
Was I afraid? Not in the least.
When it appeared for a short time that I might require more surgery I fussed to myself about the idea of having another anaesthetic. It took a bit to define just why. In this consciousness I am aware of all I would be leaving for a time. Family, friends, love.
The feeling of being unencumbered – the closest word I can find to describe the indescribable, is tempting and I am not sure that with the next occurrence that I would have the strength or desire to come back.
It was nice but even with pain and distress and life in general this is an existence I do not want to give up too readily.
**As a little catch up –after much investigation further surgery not necessary, chemotherapy not necessary, – radiation starts sometime in next couple of weeks. Medication I have to take for next five years is decidedly unpleasant, but I must count myself lucky and blessed.
“There are no facts, only interpretations.” – Friedrich Nietzsche
Beginnings can be difficult, the difficulty for some being that nervous flutter laced with excitement in the pits of our stomachs. For others it is a downright gripping paralyzing fear that may have more to do with failure and a host of related psychosis stemming from childhood, adulthood, or whatever hood our minds allow.
Rebeginnings can be even more difficult and may stem from a fear of goshcanidothisagainitis. Getting back to blogging belongs here and the well known procrastination crutch thrives in any rebeginning. Tomorrow, tomorrow, is more than a song from ANNIE, that wonderful story where tomorrow is about hope of better things to come, whereas tomorrow for us procrastination prone folk is more about delay.
Eventually a trigger occurs and for some reason it just seems right to fire up the beast, sit in the cold chair long abandoned by a warm tush, turn on the screen, find your link to WordPress and wonder if you have forgotten your password.
I have long embraced Nietzsche’s statement about facts and perceptions. In fact I spend a lot of time thinking about it though those wondrous thoughts never see the light of day in written word.
I have been off my game for many months and it is not so much that problems have been resolved as much as I seem to have found my footing, my sea legs.
A few months ago I was diagnosed with breast cancer, had surgery, and soon will start radiation. Ah now don’t cringe or moan. I am fine and seem to spend a lot of time reassuring others. In all gratitude I am blessed.
The cancer hospital feels like it has become home, because believe me, too many days a week are taken up with appointments for one thing or another, and I see so many others facing worse challenges and they are my inspiration, as I want to be theirs. My goal once my treatments are done is to volunteer at this very place. One nurse told me that most patients say this very thing, and then she stopped and looked down and in the pause the unsaid words hung -but many don’t make it.
This is not about bravado. The fact is that there are many kinds and stages of cancer and I drew one of the luckier kinds. Too many are not so lucky, but I must say that since a similar diagnosis and surgery seventeen years ago a lot of progress has been made. There is much work to be done but we have come far.
This is the last I will speak of my situation and hopefully my screen will stay on, WordPress will become my daily companion again and this chair will be warmed daily and I will have lots to say on other matters. But I know better than to make promises and perhaps that trigger will continue to inspire.
Oh yes, what was that trigger yesterday? Why it is our old friend Kathy McCullough who is always reinventingtheeventhorizon.wordpress.com
I will try a proper link here just to see if I can do it. Oh my will have to spend sometime reacquainting my self with WordPress.