The Wave

Twice today, I have been the grateful recipient of a friendly wave; at least that is what I assumed the fellow in the passing truck, and the lady walking her dog coming towards me down the street were going to do. I was pretty sure that I knew each of them until they came within range and I realized that my enthusiastic waving was being met with questioning stares.  No matter, I gave the wave a huge smile follow up and I felt better as their smiles grew and they hesitantly returned the wave.  I may not have known them at all, but I figure that it was better to wave in error than to let fear of making a mistake spoil those special moments.

There is nothing wrong with saying hello to a stranger on the street or offering them a wave, and certainly a smile; it may be the only bit of warmth that he or she receives on that particular day, or possibly for many days.  It certainly picked up my own mood and jolted me out of self absorption that was not nearly as interesting; if we can't laugh at ourselves on a regular basis, then we become dull very quickly—best to sharpen up those smile muscles, smooth out our wrinkles, and join the wave! 

I raised my hand

And held it high,

In  a friendly wave

As a lad walked by;

A friendly wave,

How brave, how brave!

 

Strangers, yes,

But his eyes met mine,

A little bit shy,

But with hopeful shine,

He tossed a smile;

What class, what style!

 

With every wave,

To someone new,

My steps were lifted,

My spirit grew;

My wave had power

An awesome tool,

How cool, how cool!

 

 

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.

 

You can't think of St. Patrick's Day without thinking of wonderful Irish music!   I want to pay tribute and thank all of the musicians, singers, and song-writers who have left us such a wonderful legacy of song and dance, and to all of those still writing and keeping those musical spirits alive and laughing for us.

Some of my favourite musical memories were the many times over the years we were entertained by  Mervin Kelly and his friends in the Celts group, and by my Uncle Jimmy and my father who would entertain us at family events, at the Metcalfe Farmers' Market,  and would occasionally sit in with Mervin's group.  For all of you musical Irish spirits out there:

Paddy Smiled

Old Paddy made a sorry sight,

His clothes had had their day,

But, he brought the fiddle to his chin,

And Oh, could Paddy play!

The bow, it jumped and danced along,

The notes freed from their staff,

And as others clapped and sang along,

Oh, did Paddy laugh!

His laughter took him back again,

To life in County Clare,

To friends around the table,

To family over there;

He turned those memories into song,

A tear plucked every string,

Then, all went quiet in that room,

For oh, could Paddy sing!

Then up he hopped

From where he sat,

And stepped out toe and heel,

Folks jumped up to join right in,         

As Paddy played a reel;

The room was filled with gaiety,

Hearts lifted for awhile,

Strangers now became his friends,

And oh, did Paddy smile!

Every sharing touches a life,

A hard times smile shines the furthest!

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!

Autumn - a time to slow down and notice all of the elements of the Great Composer's works:

Yesterday, as I headed off on my walk down to the river, I slowed my pace and began to take note of all the little wonders around me.  I hadn't put on my 'little boots' in quite a while and it proved very rewarding.   I took deep breaths and filled my lungs with the smells of Autumn; ripening crops, grasses and flowers  ... and fish?    Coming down the path towards me was  an unexpected  wonder - a young mink came barrelling up the path towards me and almost went head over heels making an abrupt stop; I could almost hear his "Whoa!!"    Apparently, he was a regular customer or should I say, recycler, checking out the discarded fish left by fishermen along the bank.    He took a detour around me down the length of the riverbank, stopping every once in awhile to sit up and check me out, and I took time out to just stand and watch him.  I was filled with a special feeling of joy in being noticed by this free spirit.

As I neared our street on the way home, my little boots must still have been showing; coming down the street towards me were three young boys on bicycles, and as they passed me they each in turn held up a hand for a 'high five!'   They were playing a game to see how many of the people they encountered would respond to their invitation.   Once more, I felt a special joy in being included in the play of these free spirits!

Autumn's Call To Rest

The great Conductor

Takes up his baton,

A silence fills the air;

He calls for a rest,

Which is sometimes the best

Of all sounds to a hopeful ear;

Autumn stands at attention,

Mother Nature takes her cue,

As the Great Composer's work takes form,

In colours of every hue,

He begins with a gentle adagio,

Setting the perfect pace,

Stepping up to lead the others,

As the players take their place;

Each element of life comes in

At their appointed time,

Adding their sweet harmony,

To a song of wordless rhyme;

From andante to allegro,

The symphony builds and grows,

In colours and sounds and sights profound,

To crescendo as Nature glows!

And we with our gifts, our colours,

Are invited to take our place,

To stand at attention and listen,

Then to sing with strength and  grace,

And to heed the request,

To wait for the best,

The song is not finished,

But merely at rest.

A Coat Of Many Colours  

               

The world's population is growing by immense proportions, and it is easy to fall into a negative frame of mind as we wonder how we can ever handle the  stewardship of this home of ours, called Earth.  We can either look at this growth  with fear, focusing on man's negative effect on the planet,  or we can look at it in hope as we recognize the unique beauty and potential in each life. 

The homeless person on the street may not live up to our perceived notion of what a contributing member of society should be; his language and appearance may offend, but as we all know, appearances can be deceiving;  We may never be able to see the many beautiful coloured threads that have come unravelled in that person's life, but the gift of a smile and a kind word may provide the first stitch that will start his or her coat to mending;

Though God's creation is vast, each of us is a priceless thread in His great tapestry, and though blue is my favourite colour, if God used only blue threads, what a boring canvass that would be.

 If we let fear of losing what we perceive to be ours by divine or earned  right take precedence, and try to block all others from our door, it is like trying to keep the sky from changing colour;  we would be the losers in the end;

Past The Blue

It's my blue sky,

So pure and blue,

There's nothing else

That shines so true,

I hope it lasts forever!

A bit of red

Is creeping in,

Changing blue

To violet  hue;

But never mind,

I like it fine,

It really looks quite clever;

Some yellow hues

Have joined the red,

And turned to

Brilliant gold instead;

I didn't think I'd like it but

It really is outstanding!

And when it touches

My blue sky,

A green so bright

Lights up the sky

And makes a scene enchanting;

That sky that I

Perceived as blue,

Was so much more

Than my small view,

Its beauty has a depth so vast,

A sea forever changing;

Every life contributes

A thread of priceless hue,

Unraveled lives we chance may meet,

Without them we are not complete;

Each time we add them to our blue,

God says, "Yes, that's brilliant!"

A Visit From My Christmas Spirit

  

At such a joyous time of year,

My Christmas spirit's in low gear -

I'm putting too much octane

In my tank of busyness;

Instead of looking 'round to see

The beauty that's surrounding me,

My eyes keep looking inward

Focusing on my own mess.

The Spirit, longing to impart

Its gift of hope to lift my heart,

I seem to have wrapped up and left

beneath the Christmas tree;

This precious gift that can't be bought

Should not be left to afterthought,

But opened first and shared a lot

With friends and family. 

As I pay it more attention,

Pause, and take time for reflection,

It is growing, speeding up,

Approaching second gear;

I'm heeding now its hopeful voice,

Speaking of a wiser choice:

To take each moment that I'm given

And spend it well this year.

          "If I could make you smile,

            For just a little while,

            It would give me such a lift

            To help you find

            Your forward shift

            That would be the perfect gift,

            One that we could open together,

            No ribbon to untie."

No Ordinary Thing!

No Ordinary Thing!

No matter how many times I watch a child jumping in a puddle, skipping rope, playing hide -and-seek, or swinging, I am amazed at how beautiful these ordinary actions are, and how powerful their ripple effects can be;  I automatically stop and smile when I witness their play; a positive ripple, created out of thin air, with the power to change my mood.

  Children love to give gifts - pictures they have drawn, an original dance routine, notes and stories that they have written and ones that their voices create, in the form of songs or jokes.  They have an inner desire to share their gifts.  Over time, that desire becomes either stronger or weaker depending on their sense of freedom to share.  They notice our actions as much as our words, so Let us set an example for them; grab hold of our own inner child and jump into life's puddle with enthusiasm and courage as we share our own gifts:

It was something ordinary,

But a treasure that I'll save;

It clothed the extraordinary,

Music turned into a story;

A child's sweet gift she gave;

She sang a song about a dream;

No sooner did she start,

Than the simple little melody,

Very unexpectedly,

Reached right into my heart;

I was, once again, that little child,

Swinging in a  tree,

Seeing colours in its bark,

Then, piling leaves up in the park,   

And it delighted me!

She looked at me with hopeful eyes

As she laughed the final note;

No other would be quite like this,

Signed and given with a kiss;

A lump formed in my throat;

It was something unexpected,

On an ordinary day,

But, to touch a heart  and make it sing

Is no simple ordinary thing -

It's a miracle at play!

I smiled at someone today - I smiled that smile forever.

We are never really ready to say goodbye to our loved ones -

 How do we cope with the shock that sets in when someone we care deeply about dies too early or unexpectedly?

  We go to our cupboard and pull out the warmest coat that we can find; sewn with love by a wonderful supporting group of family and friends.  That garment may be frayed at the neck and arms from being worn so often, and it may be missing a few strands of our favourite colours; but the Creator looks on it and repairs it each time a thread breaks.

  His repair kit includes our  every smile and kind gesture.   If you want to know what eternity is, look no further than your smile; The kindness in your eyes and the breadth of your smile is the most precious gift we can offer; Once it is given, it doesn't just go away, it is an irreplaceable stitch that is woven into the fabric of that coat - for eternity.

 Those who go to the cupboard can be sure of finding it there - waiting to do what only a familiar, favourite coat can do - warm our souls, wrap us in its arms tightly, and remind us that our loved one's smiles and kindnesses are part of its fabric forever.

When my heart is numb,

My mind a blur,

And I've pushed away the memories  there,

I reach into my trembling heart,

And feel a warmth come over me,

For I find that smile still shining clear.

Within that smile,

 I see those eyes,

And I hear a voice that calls to me,

"All the love I've given you

Is yours for all eternity."

A Knock Knock Symphony!

 

A Knock  Knock  Symphony!

Knock, knock, who's there?

I'm listening to our neighbourhood symphony this morning – Ah! the quiet! – just the birds, the soft rustling of  leaves ….. and a human woodpecker somewhere in the background, shingling his roof - hammering his heart out! 

 

An actual woodpecker, possibly sensing the competitive power of that human bird’s pounding, started up his own version of  'Hammer Time';  He was ramping up to warp speed - a woodpecker can peck up to 20 pecks per second – 'Take that, you human!'

 He stopped briefly to check on the competition and to stare pityingly at the poor fool who didn’t know enough to use his head; He was getting absolutely no food coming out of the boards on that roof that he was working away at - " an arm with a stick? Ridiculous!  not nearly as effective as a good old noggin knockin'!"

"Wait - What's this?  His mate just handed him a tall drink of something and a bag full of food!  Perhaps the stick pounding thing was a mating call?  Where's my mate?  Someone get me a stick!"