"Trees of all ages have seasons of springtime, my dear. A tree could be 500 years old and still be putting forth fresh buds every year. And so can you.” LIfe is not over until it's over - Thrive!
Thanks for mentioning Katharine Hayhoe. I saw her brilliant presentation in Ann Arbor. She revealed in a way that was personal to everyone there, precisely what holds us back from acting and how to turn that around. And lots of powerful data that we never see in the media.
Look up her talks and writing if you've never seen her. If only she could visit every school in the country.
I encourage everyone to "love More loudly" as Pam Gregory would say.
A woman behind me in the grocery checkout line offered me one of her 3 Serrano peppers that I had forgotten to purchase. It's value.04. To me. Priceless. I thanked her too much and thought as I walked away, this is the world I want to live in.
The opera singer. In a state of grief that’s all absorbing, he sees through the crack that’s in everything- a crack created by the opera singer shattering glass so beautifully that it captivates beauty with a language of its own and puts down roots deep in the grief transforming its ability to spawn new life in sync with the bees that merge with its mates, the souls of these plants converge and create the nectar for birds to partake as they do in this wonderful precious life- part of a miraculous ecosystem of which we are all a part and at the same time we’re the whole.
When I was young, a red-headed little munchkin, I could not or would not go to sleep without my teddy bear. To me he was much more than a pacifier blanket. Teddy was my loyal companion in all things and decisions that mattered.
At some point I grew up. WOW!!!
After being so important to me for much of my childhood, Teddy was vanquished into the dustbin of my youth.
I excelled in high school, winning a National Science Scholarship to study geology at Emory University’s geology camp in Ringold, Ga. This was at the end of my junior year. I always wanted to go to Colorado School of Mines in Golden, Colorado. However tuition was much more than I could afford, and I wound up at Clemson University in my home state of South Carolina.
Near the end of two years at Clemson, and having goofed off by playing too much bridge, along with a total lack of interest in my education, I realized that I had a real chance of being drafted which I did not want. Thus, I joined the US NAVY’s submarine service. I figured I would be 600 feet under the water, and nobody would be shooting at me. I have a very strong phobia of bullets tearing into my flesh.
After spending so much of my military time as a “squid,” I went back to Clemson and completed my degree in English and Secondary Education, and built my first house in Walhalla, SC, thanks to the GI BILL.
I was married at this time and still am to the same wonderful woman for 57 years. We had two children, a son and a daughter. My daughter, Meg, died eight years ago at age 39. She was my much loved “wild child.” But that is another venue for another rant.
I'm 80 and my wife is 78. our son and daughter-in-law wanted us to downsize before we got too old to do it so they could care for us in our declining years. The house on the corner next door to them came on the market. We left our home of 40 years across town and bought the 1924 Craftsman style home which was in utter disrepair and considered a tear down. Having found a fantastic builder who saved us a bunch of money, he began reconstruction. After three months we had a "brand new" home, complete with new electrical, plumbing, and exterior. Our new neighborhood was so very welcoming, and we had found the last home we would spend our lives in, a welcome respite from so many uncertainties.
Our daughter was Meg, and our daughter-in law is Meghan. My wife had given Meghan some of Meg's clothes that fit her. Another neighbor who is an excellent seamstress, asked her for one of Meg's blouses, because she wanted to make something for us in rememberance of our Meg.
A week later she presented us with the most beautifully made and professionaly put together TEDDY BEAR. It was made from one of Meg's old blouses, and on one of the feet, she had embroidered the quote: "IN MEMORY OF MEG."
Now I do not know of any other 80 year old man who sleeps with a TEDDY BEAR NAMED FREDDY. Every night when I say my prayers and meditations, I reach out, gently take hold of that little foot, squeeze it softly, and tell my Meg how much I love her, miss her, and that me, her Poppie, will see her soon, according to whatever God's plan is for the rest of my life. Freddy gives me so much of a feeling of love and the presence of Meg, and I can't thank my neighbor, who barely knew me at the time, for such a caring gift. WOW! I shiver for the caring nature of such wonderful people. We are all a part of the whole and need to lean on each other in times of grief and longing. What a God given blessing.
I will detail more terrible memories about our Meg's battles with her additions at a future date. Stay tuned for some terrible memories of the past.
Tell me, if you can, of any of your experiences and memories you would like to share, either glad or sad. A burden shared is half as heavy!
"Trees of all ages have seasons of springtime, my dear. A tree could be 500 years old and still be putting forth fresh buds every year. And so can you.” LIfe is not over until it's over - Thrive!
Thanks for mentioning Katharine Hayhoe. I saw her brilliant presentation in Ann Arbor. She revealed in a way that was personal to everyone there, precisely what holds us back from acting and how to turn that around. And lots of powerful data that we never see in the media.
Look up her talks and writing if you've never seen her. If only she could visit every school in the country.
Joy is a radical act
I encourage everyone to "love More loudly" as Pam Gregory would say.
A woman behind me in the grocery checkout line offered me one of her 3 Serrano peppers that I had forgotten to purchase. It's value.04. To me. Priceless. I thanked her too much and thought as I walked away, this is the world I want to live in.
So lovely!
If wonder was a wine, would I mull it?
Perhaps if wonder was was dusty and past it’s prime,
I would add spice and citrus, maybe juniper, nutmeg and lime.
But how could wonder be dusty or aged?
Wonder is by definition wonderful, fresh and magic filled.
It’s simply my palate that needs alteration
a pinch of both sugar and salt to sweeten and cleanse,
a dash of bitters for balance and a splash of Tahitian vanilla for an exotic lens
But would I mull the wine of wonder?
No.
Not while I can still lift it’s heady cup to my ready lips
Carmen, I can’t find the words to thank you for today, your selections, tenderness, beautiful heart and loving generosity.
What gladrackets me?
The opera singer. In a state of grief that’s all absorbing, he sees through the crack that’s in everything- a crack created by the opera singer shattering glass so beautifully that it captivates beauty with a language of its own and puts down roots deep in the grief transforming its ability to spawn new life in sync with the bees that merge with its mates, the souls of these plants converge and create the nectar for birds to partake as they do in this wonderful precious life- part of a miraculous ecosystem of which we are all a part and at the same time we’re the whole.
@holly and @carmen, your tears and tenderness are gifts, as you noted. Apologies never needed!
I'm holding on to the word "Sheen" - it feels like a shiny big breath of fresh air.
And a good mantra for a Sunday morning.
Wonder is the inner ear of creativity, attuning to our primal awareness in perfect, revelatory harmony.
I love this shift from sight to a different sense—to sound, to song.
Thank you. As a longtime vocal musician, I am blessed to mingle in the intimate world of wonder as both a listener and creator in this form.
Thank you. I have just joined and my first Hatch session. I created a Haiku for Spring.
The most recent episode of the Hidden Brain podcast echoes what you are saying about climate change and negative news…
I used to listen to that EVERY week religiously.
I will listen to that one. Thanks for the reminder !
When I was young, a red-headed little munchkin, I could not or would not go to sleep without my teddy bear. To me he was much more than a pacifier blanket. Teddy was my loyal companion in all things and decisions that mattered.
At some point I grew up. WOW!!!
After being so important to me for much of my childhood, Teddy was vanquished into the dustbin of my youth.
I excelled in high school, winning a National Science Scholarship to study geology at Emory University’s geology camp in Ringold, Ga. This was at the end of my junior year. I always wanted to go to Colorado School of Mines in Golden, Colorado. However tuition was much more than I could afford, and I wound up at Clemson University in my home state of South Carolina.
Near the end of two years at Clemson, and having goofed off by playing too much bridge, along with a total lack of interest in my education, I realized that I had a real chance of being drafted which I did not want. Thus, I joined the US NAVY’s submarine service. I figured I would be 600 feet under the water, and nobody would be shooting at me. I have a very strong phobia of bullets tearing into my flesh.
After spending so much of my military time as a “squid,” I went back to Clemson and completed my degree in English and Secondary Education, and built my first house in Walhalla, SC, thanks to the GI BILL.
I was married at this time and still am to the same wonderful woman for 57 years. We had two children, a son and a daughter. My daughter, Meg, died eight years ago at age 39. She was my much loved “wild child.” But that is another venue for another rant.
I'm 80 and my wife is 78. our son and daughter-in-law wanted us to downsize before we got too old to do it so they could care for us in our declining years. The house on the corner next door to them came on the market. We left our home of 40 years across town and bought the 1924 Craftsman style home which was in utter disrepair and considered a tear down. Having found a fantastic builder who saved us a bunch of money, he began reconstruction. After three months we had a "brand new" home, complete with new electrical, plumbing, and exterior. Our new neighborhood was so very welcoming, and we had found the last home we would spend our lives in, a welcome respite from so many uncertainties.
Our daughter was Meg, and our daughter-in law is Meghan. My wife had given Meghan some of Meg's clothes that fit her. Another neighbor who is an excellent seamstress, asked her for one of Meg's blouses, because she wanted to make something for us in rememberance of our Meg.
A week later she presented us with the most beautifully made and professionaly put together TEDDY BEAR. It was made from one of Meg's old blouses, and on one of the feet, she had embroidered the quote: "IN MEMORY OF MEG."
Now I do not know of any other 80 year old man who sleeps with a TEDDY BEAR NAMED FREDDY. Every night when I say my prayers and meditations, I reach out, gently take hold of that little foot, squeeze it softly, and tell my Meg how much I love her, miss her, and that me, her Poppie, will see her soon, according to whatever God's plan is for the rest of my life. Freddy gives me so much of a feeling of love and the presence of Meg, and I can't thank my neighbor, who barely knew me at the time, for such a caring gift. WOW! I shiver for the caring nature of such wonderful people. We are all a part of the whole and need to lean on each other in times of grief and longing. What a God given blessing.
I will detail more terrible memories about our Meg's battles with her additions at a future date. Stay tuned for some terrible memories of the past.
Tell me, if you can, of any of your experiences and memories you would like to share, either glad or sad. A burden shared is half as heavy!
peppermiller3011@gmail.com
It was so good this am. Thank you Carmen and Holly.