the truth is

The truth is that I love to write. When I sit down to compose my thoughts on paper, my mind and my heart have a chance to think, to align themselves and divide themselves where appropriate. My day comes into focus, slowing down to digest the moments that can fly by without my appreciation. The truth is that I live in pain every day. Some days are better than others. Some days I bare that pain in silence, sometimes I am grumpy from the pain, taking it out on those I love most and sometimes I ignore the pain, forgetting how my body feels without an intruder. To those who see me most days, my smile hides what can be surging under the surface, my stride down the street shows no sign of the tornado of hurt in my back. For the most part, I am thankful for this gift, to be free from looks of pity or questions asking thoughtfully how I am doing. But there are some days where the isolation is overwhelming, when I wish I had a huge sign on my body which says, disclosure - I am in pain, please excuse the bitchiness and come back later. But each day, I learn something new about myself, about my limitations and about my potential. Today I swung my very own golf club. I hit the ball without embarrassing myself and my body actually twisted as best as it could. I felt a little like the Tin Man but I did it. While some swings felt awkward and ouchy, when I swung and the ball went soaring without much effort, I felt a rush of excitement. I mean, the pain would have to wait, I was playing golf! Tonight, as I lie on the floor to try and calm the aches, I push the moment back into my head of standing on the golf range in between my mother and my brother as the sun shone through the blue sky. How lucky am I? The truth is that I played golf. The truth is that I have people in my life to share that moment with and still love me even after we laughed and cried from my slight un-ladylike mood that ensued tonight. That's the honest and blessed truth.

thoughts this morning

“So live your life that the fear of death can never enter your heart. Trouble no one about their religion; respect others in their view, and demand that they respect yours. Love your life, perfect your life, beautify all things in your life. Seek to make your life long and its purpose in the service of your people. Prepare a noble death song for the day when you go over the great divide.

Always give a word or a sign of salute when meeting or passing a friend, even a stranger, when in a lonely place. Show respect to all people and grovel to none.

When you arise in the morning give thanks for the food and for the joy of living. If you see no reason for giving thanks, the fault lies only in yourself. Abuse no one and no thing, for abuse turns the wise ones to fools and robs the spirit of its vision.

When it comes your time to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with the fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song and die like a hero going home.”

~ Chief Tecumseh

bonne fête des pères

To a father who continues to teach me the ropes...even when I watch from the shore. From France with love. Je t'aime.

 

for so many years I've wondered what happened?

finally, some logic to this dilemma ;)