Getting lost has always been one of my fears (often playing a central theme in my dreams) and one that a lot of us I'm sure, share; whether it's trying to find a new destination, or trying to manoeuvre my way through a computer challenge!  Perhaps turning it off and on again might work for both scenarios?

Back in the day, when driving the kids to an appointment or event downtown, the kids always waited for me to say, "I think Uncle Bernie lives around here somewhere," and they would know that we were lost, once again—not seriously, but annoyingly, until I got my bearings back. Whether in the midst of downtown chaos, a leisurely stroll, or just arriving at the top of our stairs, with no particular goal springing to mind, I find that just letting go and laughing will sometimes kick-start my GPS—"Oh, really?!!" my poor knees are saying, "we all know that the poor chicken only crossed the road cause Alexa told her to!"

 

Climbing The Stairs

When I'm losing my bearings,
Forgetting my way,
When my mind gets too busy,
I hear a voice say,
'Take a look round you,
Don't miss what's right there,
There is always a light
At the top of the stairs,'
 
When I've climbed to the top,
And I stand there at last,
I'm sure I'll remember,
When my panting has passed,
What it was that I came for,
It should soon crystallize;
I'm hoping that, surely,
It's not exercise?!
 
Looking out of the window,
I had to concede,
That a change in perspective,
Filled a much deeper need,
A wider horizon,
The tops of the trees,
The sky in its glory,
Was a tonic indeed;
I shall drink it more often,
And let my heart lead.
The next time I'm climbing the stairs.
 

 

Michelangelo's inspired sculpture of the Pieta, the beautiful, poignant depiction of Mary, holding Jesus' body after the crucifixion, has much to say to us all in these difficult days.  The world unleashed all of the worst that it was capable of against her Son; He took it all, and forgave it all; it had no power to defeat His spirit, the embodiment of love.  His mother endured every ounce of pain with Him and now holds her Son, alive forever.

 For all mothers and nurturers, struggling to be strong for their families, I offer the following:

 

I don't think I can handle this,

I feel as though I'll break;

I've thrown my hands up in despair,

How much can my heart can take!

 

I'm not a superhero,

I'm a mother, hanging on,

Drawing on my fragile faith,

And trying to stay strong;

 

In the midst of this heart's struggle,

The voice of hope pushed past,

Whispering encouragement,

'Hold on, this too shall pass.'

 

'I know what you are going through,

That fear, I've known it too;

I've watched my loved one hurting,

Felt helplessness, like you;

 

Take courage, joy will follow,  

And sorrow will pass by,

For love, once born,

Will be tested and torn,

But it can never die.'

A Mother's Blessing

My prayer is in

These mother's arms

That enfold my family 'round;

My prayer is in

These tears I cry

When problems get me down;

When they press

To hold me under,

I will lift my eyes

To Thine,

And pray, with all

That I possess,

That You will hear,

And You will bless

This family of mine.

 

A Humble, Silent Prayer, and a Sincere Smile -

The most powerful forms of communication

When we drop to our knees
And let it all go,
Open our hearts
And let the tears flow,
Deep in our souls,
Someone listens and knows;
 
Prayer is like a rescue ship,
A boat that's waiting, moored;
When fears are overwhelming,
 When those I love are threatened,
 In quiet desperation,
I take a step aboard;
 
My Companion bids me welcome
As He reaches out His hand;
He tells me He has heard my plea,
And that He understands;
There are miracles in progress,
Things we cannot know,
But when we call out from our hearts,
There's no way that He'd say, 'no';
 
When we make the choice to push off
From our comfortable, safe shore,
When we risk being surrounded
By fears we can't ignore,
By dark waters of rejection,
Of doubts that make us question,
He reminds us that we're gifted
With a life preserving smile;
 
That when tossed with firm resolve,
To lift another from despair,
Becomes the echo of His answer,
The hope that follows prayer;
For the giver and receiver,
Both are pulled into His craft,
To rest until the waters calm,
Until the storm is past;
 
No smile left behind.

 

Finding The Light

Finding The Light

This January has certainly lived up to its reputation of being the gloomiest month of the year, and that gloom is reflected in the faces and posture of so many of us.  It is very hard to pull out our own personal light, that sunshine that is so badly needed in these days of dark forecasts, seemingly everywhere.

  Perhaps we need to look for sources of 'lightness' that may not be as obvious as the sun;  Laughter is one light that is very powerful, although it may take awhile to find the light switch, the titter toggle, the humour handle!   It is  always there, in the ordinary things around us.  We are most likely to find it if we  search  first  within ourselves;  in our own activities, habits, pet peeves, vanity, material possessions;  Comedians get the most laughs when they point out our foibles and fears, and their own,  for it is then that we breathe a relieved sigh, acknowledging  that we are all in the same boat, and that we all take ourselves way too seriously.

 While searching for the laughter switch, we can prime our light with a multitude of smiles; perhaps the brightest light source is to be found in the eyes of those we share our smiles with.   In the end, we are all unique yet the same underneath, human,  and it is very healing to laugh at ourselves.   On our lives' journey, let us check within and make sure we're trimming our  light so that it will shine out for those who are having trouble finding the lighthouse:

The Goal Is The Journey

I searched for a lighthouse,

A home for a light

That would shine out for others,

A guide through the night;

Through the darkness that grips us

When we lose our way,

When we feel we're alone,

When our faith's gone away,

And we ponder and wonder,

Is that all there is?

My own bit of light

That I tended each day,

 I hoped would grow larger

Would light others' way,

But the small gifts I shared,

Seem so little and poor;

In the time I was given,

I wish I'd shone more,

And I hope and I trust

That that's not all there is;

Drawing nearer the lighthouse,

When that beam is in sight,

We reach our hand out

To the source of the light,

And there we find grace,

In all of its glory,

A path through the doubt,

To a wondrous new story;

The goal is the journey,

And we'll be alright,

If we trust in that lighthouse,

Where love beams its light.

The Presence Of Love

From "The Shack" - 'He is especially fond of you'.

We don't choose the gifts that we have been given,

Any more than we want those we love to choose the gifts we give them,  We hope that we know that person well enough to choose something that they will appreciate.

It is up to us to choose to say thank you for those gifts,

And we do that as we hope our loved ones will do:

by welcoming them with joy, opening them up excitedly, and finding out how to use them; Then, with a huge smile,  in  sharing them with others.

And that's what our Father rejoices in;  Don't rain on God's parade!

When life presses down hard,

When your spirit's been scarred,

And you're left feeling scared and alone ,

Just leave it all there,

Leave that weight to His care,

For He's only one teardrop away;

There's a hand on your shoulder,

A kiss on your forehead;

You are held in the grip of His love;

He raises you up,

And enfolds you so dearly,

Touches your heart,

And lets you know clearly

That you are totally precious today.

There's a tiny child in each of us,

Feeling lost and incomplete,

Though our original hearts  are still intact,

Irreplaceable pulses  in God's heartbeat,

We still keep trying way too hard

To be all that we can be,

Not realizing that we already are;

And that God is especially fond of us!

All Is Well In The End!

Grandparents' Day is approaching again - September 8th.  In gratitude and humility, I share a few words, some 'wisdom' that I have realized over the course of my rapid journey of nearly 71 years:

In the end, we are who we are, with all of our unique imperfections, but also with the immense potential that resides within us, waiting to be asked to come forward.  We are largely unknown to ourselves; the face that we see in the mirror each morning hides behind it someone that wants to meet us and be included in our day.  Usually, it gets overlooked or covered up with makeup of various kinds, as we look past its expectant and hopeful gaze, and try to form it into some version of ourselves that we think is expected or will be accepted by the world out there.  When we are lucky enough to receive gifts from our grandchildren, or from anyone,  let us remember that there is still a little child dwelling within each of us, waiting and hoping that his gift will be loved. 

Every Word, Every Action Matters!

I made one mark upon a page,

It grew into a word,

Then others came in twos and threes,

Emerged from unknown station,         

Responding with elation

To the voice that they had heard;

They joined hands in a sentence,

 then a paragraph, a rhyme,

A soliloquy, a story, a 'Once upon a time',

Each mark an inspiration,

Adding to a thought  sublime,

And I their humble servant,

Gave thanks for every line.

Words - when we send them flying into the world on the wings of a smile, how uplifting and encouraging a gift they can be to others!

One More Cup Of Tea

On a cold and blustery day, such as today, when the Winter Blahs are beating at my door, thoughts of warmth in its many forms can be the perfect answer to that annoying knocking;   As I mature in age and, hopefully, in wisdom, I still find it satisfying to occasionally reach back into my childhood days, bring out that rebellious, often-used retort, and say to time,

"You're not the boss of me!"   I figure I still have one more cup of tea;

One More Cup Of Tea

I may have lost a little steam,

A little of my zing,

But there's still a cup inside of me,

One delicious cup of tea,

That might be just the thing

For someone who has dropped their cup,

Whose pot of hope has all dried up,

Can't make their kettle sing.

I still have hopeful little drops,

Some smiles I've kept to share,

There's laughter waiting to pop up,

To add some bubbles to their cup,

Some warm and pleasant fare;

Some bits of sunshine,

Sips of Spring

That I've infused with care;

For tiny cups of kindness are

The humblest of guests;

They don't intrude on solitude,

They're sensitive and never rude,

They understand that listening

Is the sweetener that is best;

A cup of hope, so sweet and fine's

The best of partners anytime,

Perhaps the perfect Valentine!

Feel The Sun - Be The Sun!

The sun is still up there, just wanting some quiet time and has closed its curtains for a much needed break.  It doesn't mean to offend us by this gesture; perhaps it is just setting an example and giving us some protected space to take our own time for reflection. 

 I try to help the sun out by creating my own small bits of sunshine, for myself and for my fellow life travellers;  some of my favourite attempts come from a paint box of words.  I try to steer away from the depressing colours of complaints, and those that create poor images of myself and others. The words that paint harmful gossip, and inspire only uncomfortable laughter will slowly but surely turn all of the other beautiful colours to a muddy grey - best to avoid!

In the grand scheme of things, we each have the potential to create sunshine by just being honest with ourselves, appreciating and sharing ourselves with others, complete with all of the faults that make us who we are.  The best way to turn a grey day into a sunny one is to take ourselves less seriously - to laugh at ourselves and to share in the humble humour of our humanness: (say that 3 times fast!).

Miss Patient!

Miss patient was a person

With a problem and a pain;

She went to see a doctor,

And she asked him to explain;

“I have a list of symptoms,

Though I don’t like to complain;

I wrote a few things down for you

To try and make it plain:

I’ve a pimple on my elbow,

A cracking in my knee,

And a funny sort of  popping sound

That really bothers me,

A ringing in my ears, a tingling in my thumb,

I can’t put my finger on it,

‘Cause my finger’s feeling numb!"

The doctor was quite patient

As he diagnosed her pain;

"The answer is not easy,

But, I'll keep it short and plain -

It seems to me, Miss Patient,

You've a hyperactive brain!"

At My Mother's Knee

Some memories never fade away,

And that's as it should be,

When they take me back to happy times

And quiet moments  when I'd  find

Myself at Mother's knee.

Special secrets I would share,

Secret hurts and fears,

Nothing seemed too silly there,

With soothing words and hugs to spare,

She'd wipe away my tears.

I'd place my head upon her lap

And feel her hands' caressing,

What peace I felt as I knelt there ,

 Her fingers in my tousled hair,

Receiving mother's blessing.

She'd wrap me in her mother's care,

My smile was her reward;

No one could resist her grin

And soon the giggles would begin,

Good humour was restored.

Those special moments live in me

In love they have been set,

All those lovely memories

Bring me often to my knees

I feel her softness yet.

I close my eyes and hear her voice,

So musical and mild;

No greater gift could ever be,

Than hearing my mom pray for me,

Now I pray for you, my child.

The Chain

The Chain

I believe that we are being born anew every day - given another chance.

Who we are,  our essence or spirit, is in the process of becoming with each breath that we take;

our spirit does not require a diet of huge achievements - it is constantly feeding off of our attitude,  It grows more beautiful with every positive thought and accomplishment, every smiling link that we add to the whole.   With each act of kindness, we are strengthening our link in the chain of life, and feeding it the energy that it needs, to be strong for all of the other links - our parents, children, grandchildren, brothers and sisters, friends - all those that we hold in our hearts and who count on us.

 When the seas get rough, we can secure our vessels with that wonderful supporting chain:

Hold onto the chain,

In the midst of your pain,

Trust in the strength of each link;

Though doubts may obscure it,

Have faith and be sure, it's

Stronger by far than you think.

With great love they speak,

Each voice so unique,

Timeless, they're born yet again,

These links built of love,

Drawing strength from above,

Hand in hand forming the chain.

My Ruby Shoes

My Ruby Shoes

Click, click, 'There's no place like home!'   There are so many clichés surrounding this one word, 'home' - that space where we feel that we belong, where we head for comfort when the pressures of life in the big world threaten to crush us, where unconditional love is generously dished out, satisfying our true hunger.

 A warm and welcoming home might not be a reality for all of us, but we all have a home that has nothing to do with our physical dwelling places, one that is located within our hearts, calling us to come in for regular meals of encouragement, to be bandaged up with a few strong hugs, to set down our load of harmful clutter.  We are all responsible for making sure that our 'home's welcome mat is dusted off and prominently displayed in our eyes and smiles; no fancy fixtures needed - just the genuine warmth of a little light.

The key is always under the mat - or tucked into the toe of a ruby shoe.  Those shoes are more than just decorative - they're a sparkling porthole that calls to each of us to follow our own unique path that leads to home - where the heart is:

My Ruby Shoes

My heart is walking,

Walking around,

In a pair of ruby shoes,

And wondering about

That clicking sound

That it cannot seem to lose.

With every step,

And every click,

It listens for a clue;

It dares not stop

Nor take them off,

Though they're leading it somewhere new.

I realize that my

Heart seems to have

A  destiny all its own,

And those clicking sounds

Are its gentle waves 

Carrying me back home.

To home,

Not a place,

But a state of mind

Where warmth and welcome meet,

Where love walks around in ruby shoes

That click with each heartbeat.

Just Call Me Smiley!

I'm writing my story - the story of my life - moment by moment with each breath and with every action that I take. 

Day No. 24,646 (How scary is that!):

 I just finished doing a session of Tai Chi - it is a very calming exercise, meditative and thought inspiring.  A voice inside reminded me that one of our basic needs is that of creating something to pass along, of using the inspirations that we receive, to leave our mark, to build up this world in some way. 

"Edie, it said, (how cheeky, using my first name!) What inspired you growing up - a smile perhaps?"

 Well, now that you mention it - Yes, perhaps -  As I call to mind some of the many little moments and sparks that I gathered like treasures and stored in my heart, I realize that they have become a part of me.

  I remember being called 'smiley' when I was a young girl, and of feeling unsure of whether that was a good or bad thing to be - a sign of weakness or of strength?  It seemed that I needed to have an important reason to smile, or it left me looking a little simple.

 As I matured, that smiling thing became more and more of an asset.  I realized that there are no invalid reasons for a true, warm smile, but many reasons to avoid a cruel sneer or a frown -  Those sad faces pull our hearts into a frown as well, and it's very hard to lift our hearts and put it into our efforts if there is a big sad foot stepping on it.  There is much bravery in a soul that finds the strength to lift that foot and smile forth from a heart that is struggling or in pain, yet in that small action, there is healing for the giver and receiver.

I know from my own life's experiences that there are no words that wield as much power to reach out to another, to convey understanding, as the gesture of a genuine smile, and a kind touch on the shoulder in a moment of sadness, difficulty or stress.  Then again, a smile and a hug is even better, and a smile, a hug and a helping hand is the triple crown winner! 

 I wrote a little poem that I want to include in my fourth 'puddle' book that will give tribute to these three gifts:  'A smile, a hug and a helping hand'.

The ability of those gifts to spread out and gain wisdom, love, and new friends as they grow is a positive tool that I hope every child who picks them up will benefit from and use to build up his or her own world, their own life's story.

Now it's time to pull on my work gloves;  This gardener's prayer:  That we all dig into this garden called life, planting seeds of loving thoughts, watering them with a gentle rain of warm hugs, and using our helping hands to pull out the weeds of hate and ignorance; May our garden of smiles grow into strong actions to help in the healing of this precious world so much in need of hope-filled smiles - a bounty for all to share for so many good reasons!

I Resolve!

I Resolve!

If I knew that this would be my last New Year, what would my resolution(s) be?   How could I grow to my fullest possible potential - what improvements would be most important?  Would I resolve to love myself just the way I am, and while I'm at it, to do likewise for the other people in my life?  Would I look at each day as the best day it could possibly be,  given life's circumstances?

  Overlooking troubles, what good could I resolve to find there? create there?   Would I measure each of my steps as a privilege,  recognize each of my actions as a ripple, and decide that those steps and ripples would lead to positive places and events?  Would I resolve to smile more, finally realizing that a warm sincere smile can lead to actions that heat up the whole world?  Would I turn those resolutions into poetry that the world could sing after I was gone?

I resolve

To be at peace;

With joyful heart,

All worry cease. 

I resolve

To share my smile,

Especially in the

Midst of trial.

I resolve

To treat others fairly,

And to be just plain silly,

Regularly!

Drop That Rock!

Drop That Rock!

Why are you hanging on to that hard old rock? 

Why not jump into my beautiful canoe!

To be fear-bound is like being stranded on a hard, unforgiving, cold and dismal rock, in the middle of a beautiful sea.  Fish and birds are dipping and diving and singing all around, but you cannot join their voices or play because you are afraid to fall off of the rock.   Your fingers are cracked and bleeding from hanging on so tightly, your eyes are closed shut against the light, and your voice is non-existent - it has been crying out for help for so long that it no longer has any sound. 

So why not loosen your grip, one finger at a time, and let those fingers feel the water - The water is healing and warm, and hope begins to dawn.   There is a beautiful canoe a few feet from the rock - complete with paddles!  Hope grows a little stronger; the wind calms, and a light current pushes the canoe closer and closer - You step into the water and feel its energy surround you; the canoe is at your side - hope wins - as you step in.

In my little meditation, the rock and canoe represent our spirit's struggle to stay locked up or to go, to give up or to flow.
I love the following quote from one of my little 'Friendship' books (a very helpful paddle),   "It is true that there is an ebb and flow, but the sea remains the sea."(Vincent Van Gogh) 'You might have good days and bad but, just like the sea, you will always be you.  And that is wonderful.'

'Be brave, Humphrey!'  It's time to let go of that stress-o-matic clump of woe!  Grab your paddle, whether it's in the form of a good friend, a pen, dancing shoes, guitar, something that represents hope to you, and watch your ripples start to flow - step away from the rock and find your song! 

 

Little Building

 

When you die, "You can only take with you that which you give away."  This quote from the Catholic saint, St. Lawrence, popped into my head this week and gave me pause to reflect.  It seemed to strike a stronger chord as recent life events have taken loved ones from us, some prematurely, some beautifully fulfilled, and others violently. Giving takes courage; It is not always easy to put our loving intentions out there, and to risk being rejected by another - 'Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood.' - or of being fed on by another.  It is much easier to put money into a donation box and then disappear into anonymity than to challenge our fears and commit to a face to face interaction with a fellow traveller in this life, who has fallen on hard times.

If I only have a little

But, I offer you a little

Of my little, then it’s bigger by one.

If we each take a little

Of the little that we have,

And share it with another who has none,

We would each have a little,

And that little would get bigger

Each time that it helps someone,

And little by little, we would all grow bigger,

Till our little building work is done.

 

The above poem that I wrote is entitled, 'Little Building' - one of a group of poems that will eventually make up my fourth children's book, "How To Patch A Puddle" .

Life is lived in little moments:  What a long, love-filled life this would be If we gave until we had nothing left to give, for the giver always receives something back in return.   I am not talking about material giving - that is certainly valuable, but it is not the best of what we have to offer;  Our most valuable resources are contained within our individual, private treasure chests - chests that hold our smiles, our kind words, our encouragement, the gifts of our precious moments. These are resources that we have in abundance and that have the potential to give us all a return of the true wealth that comes from building understanding and hope. 

 The instruction manual for opening that 'hope chest' reads:

1.  Click on the 'Courage' icon.

2.  Smile!

3.  Encourage others.

Best Before Date:  NOW!

 

You are the only 'you' there will ever be:

May you give as long as you live, and may love be in all of your giving,

May you feel great joy in your living, joy that will grow with each giving;

Don't  dwell on the size of the gift, just one little smile aids forgiving,

And may your bags weigh a great loving ton,

When your 'little building' work is done!