I see an article listed on TV about pangolins. I absolutely love those guys! I hope to see pangolins for a full hour, BUT instead I see a caretaker tell me how much she loves the animal. I see only a fraction of a second of my pangolin friend in the background. The person tells me about her life and a few facts about the animal and her concerns. I am concerned too, but I want to see pangolins not her, the interviewer, and the camera man.
I tune into a program on Chopin and hear no music. I hear about the life history of the pianist and conductor. In a program about art all the pictures are blocked by people taking about themselves.
I’m in therapy right now, and I find myself dreading the next appointment. I’m tired of talking about myself. I’m tired of selfies!
He chased me through the house! “He,” was John, my husband, and with a wrapped up gift in his hand he was saying,” You should open this now! Don’t you want to know what’s in it? Aren’t you curious? I bet you NEED to know. I think you need to know right now!”
I could only take it a few days then I’d relent. The first gift was always a flashlight of some exotic kind. John waited a day then attacked with the second gift. Luckily John bought quality not quantity. By the second week in December all were opened!
John is gone now but he left me with such great memories and flashlights and I realized, looking back, that having nothing to open on Christmas day was wonderful. The ACT of giving was so much more important that the act of receiving!
The dog was only mid- sized, but he pulled his person through the park after the squirrel.
The small fuzzy fellow was chased to a tree and spun around and around and up it as though he was red paint creating a candy cane tree. The dog spun around the trunk pulling her person with her in three shape circles. As the squirrel rested on a high branch, the dog gave an irate bark. The dog’s person steadied herself then she and her dog moved further into the park probably looking for more squirrels.
I like squirrels. I like squirrels very much, but if I had a passion for them as that dog does I’d love life deeper and more profoundly.
My husband and I were both going through chemo and would look through the cupboards and find nothing we could stand to eat, but John would say, “I think I might be able to eat potato chips,” and I would think of something I thought I might be able to keep down.
We’d rush off to the store, bring the two treasured items home, we’d each eat two bites and we’d each say, “Well, that was okay, but I don’t want any more…ever.” We’d laugh.
What a strange occurrence we faced together. We KNEW John would die within months; we knew I’d recover completely, but for these days we were together; together in misery, humor, love. We were together.
We got to the four way stop just before a man in a delivery van did, but John waved him forward, “I’m off work right now,” John told me, “but he’s working. I want him to be successful.”
A few days ago I walked past a young man paid to pick up litter. Another person walking past said, “There’s a great deal to pick up after the wind blows.” As the young man agreed, the person added, “Some might say your job is insignificant, but I say you are as important as the landscape artist. If there were litter on the ground I would see it and not the nice trees and bushes. You make this area beautiful.”
My friend Amy is battling cancer and now re-battling it, but still much is going well. With chemo- brain, depression, side affects, and so many doctor appointments she has noticed she forgets to notice the good in life, soon Sundays her payer are thankful ones.
An idea comes to my mind, “Make a tiny dragon for my eight year old friend, Matthew.” Immediately this morphs into, “I can make little dragons for his brother and two sisters!” Before this thought is even crystalized the next one comes, “Make forty five dragons! One for each kid at church!’
This last imaged image crashes me to the floor, “How can I do THAT? Okay,” I say to myself, “Impossible! Throw the entire deadly idea out!”
I’ve noticed my mind loves to play and stretch ideas, but almost immediately a different part of my brain kicks in and says, “I’m accountable to DO them all!” Next, I panic and throw everything out.
Recently I’ve learned to let my mind play THEN I pull back and say, “I am not ACCOUNTABLE to do them all! Okay, which set of ideas do I actually execute?” In particular this dragon idea I made only Matthew’s dragon, but occasioonally the thought comes to me to do big jobs. In those cases I always have the strength to follow through.
I only pass his way a few times a month and usually only give him a hand shake and wish him well. Yesterday he sent me home with a big bag full of warm food. A charity organization had dropped off three bags, and he couldn’t eat it all. I passed the food on to a church which regularly feeds the poor. My homeless gentleman friend and I laughed because he gave ME food.
I watched a wonderful Nova program this week. It told me most of my calories go to my BRAIN!
This is my idea; I will eat a dozen doughnuts while I try to read a physics book! I imagine I’ll even LOSE weight!
My friend would ask his son; “What do you want for Christmas?”, later, “What do you want for your birthday?”, and, “When is your next wrestling match?” For the longest time the young man had only one answer, “I don’t know.”
When Christmas rolled around again my friend nailed together a strange and useless contraption, wrapped it up, and put it under the tree. The family made sure this strange thing was unwrapped last. The young man opened it, was greatly puzzled, pulled and pushed at it, and finally asked, “What is it?” The entire family answered with the stale term, “I don’t know!”
My friend then encouraged a group of us to set a goal, LISTEN for messages as we worked on it, next to follow through on the messages, and lastly to record the experience.
By doing this we would not, at the end of the day or week, say, “What did I do with my life?” and answer, “I don’t know!”