The Wolf. That's what the children called the wind because that's what their parents called it. When asked by anyone why it was called The Wolf (only outsiders would dare to ask such a foolish question) they would tilt their heads a bit and ask what other name could there possibly be for such a hunger?
The people here knew hunger, if nothing else. They were experts on that. There weren't many professional, college educated people here, but there were experts on hunger in every single pew in the small white Methodist church at the corner of Main and Orchard Streets. Their eyes held it and their hands were calloused by it on a daily basis. Their children were raised on it. Most everyone carried around with them a silent, heavy burden, as if the ghost of what could have been was haunting their every waking hour. They went about their lives, as shop owners and teachers and gas station attendants, but they were weighed down by the expectation that the wind would return and jolt them from their sleepwalking state. They seemed to like sleepwalking. It rather dulled the pain of the hunger, kept them in a state of semi-awareness that was less difficult to deal with. But, when the wind came, there was no hiding from it. It woke you up and forced you to feel, pushed you hard against the wall and brought you back. The wind forced you to deal with the hunger, because the wind was hunger itself, and only the strongest in the sleepy town of Willow Falls would even try to resist.
The people of Willow Falls were forced to wake up that day the wind came, and for one resident in particular, it meant that change was coming to call once more.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Just a weird little snipet....
Not sure what this is...what it will amount to....it just came out of me. Maybe it's the start of a book? Not sure.....
The wind returned that night. No one saw it coming this time. Windows were left open. Patio umbrellas were caught quickly and smashed to the ground with such force, most didn't survive to see another summer picnic. Pots full of tomato plants and basil were overturned. Toys were sent in all directions, ending up in neighbors yards, hopefully to be recovered by greedy little hands later on, once the wind died down.
The wind always returned. It was just that way. Sunshine didn't last long here. When it came it must have felt like it were stealing a little something because it came and went like a thief. During any one day, a person could change their clothes several times, to suit the weather. You could wake up early, it would be cool enough for a jacket. Some hours later, the humidity would threaten to melt you in your tracks. A few hours after that, rain would come and spoil any outdoor plans, and then, there was always the threat of the wind. The wind had a life of it's own. It followed no rules. It took what it wanted, left what it didn't care for. You would pray it didn't notice you as you huddled for shelter. If it saw you, it might become hungry. If the wind could be called anything, it would be hungry. Some people here called it The Wolf.
The wind returned that night. No one saw it coming this time. Windows were left open. Patio umbrellas were caught quickly and smashed to the ground with such force, most didn't survive to see another summer picnic. Pots full of tomato plants and basil were overturned. Toys were sent in all directions, ending up in neighbors yards, hopefully to be recovered by greedy little hands later on, once the wind died down.
The wind always returned. It was just that way. Sunshine didn't last long here. When it came it must have felt like it were stealing a little something because it came and went like a thief. During any one day, a person could change their clothes several times, to suit the weather. You could wake up early, it would be cool enough for a jacket. Some hours later, the humidity would threaten to melt you in your tracks. A few hours after that, rain would come and spoil any outdoor plans, and then, there was always the threat of the wind. The wind had a life of it's own. It followed no rules. It took what it wanted, left what it didn't care for. You would pray it didn't notice you as you huddled for shelter. If it saw you, it might become hungry. If the wind could be called anything, it would be hungry. Some people here called it The Wolf.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Once Upon a Time
Once upon a time, there was a little girl with bright eyes and thick, dark hair. She was born in a land far, far away, yet had been brought here, to this place of grief and joy, snow and sorrow. She arrived on a ship made of clouds and star shine one day in May. If anyone asked her if she remembered this other place, she would automatically say no, and then wonder quietly to herself how they knew she wasn't from their world. Did she seem that different to everyone around her? Had she not spent so much time there, so as to become indistinguishable from everyone else? She began to think not.
The people who raised her were considered her parents in every way. She rarely questioned her position in their family. It just was what it was. Her father had a warm scent, and she liked to hold his hand and put it to her nose and inhale deeply. Her mother was loving, sweet and kind, as all mothers should be. She smelled of tomato sauce and fried dough and was always singing or whistling as she worked. These details, though small, helped to make the girl feel safe, even when the warm scent of her father grew angry and felt like it would burn her skin. She grew up as most little girls did in those days, spending lazy summer days reading on an old blanket in the yard, playing hide and seek with those who dared to be her friend. She was quiet, and apprehensive around strangers, afraid of her own shadow and the demons that could lurk there. She knew there were demons in the world, and some of them lived in her house with her. She knew about angels and victims too, as they lived there also. Sometimes she felt she would be safer living at the zoo in the lion cage, other times she liked her unpredictable life. It was rather like being on a roller coaster. She never thought that's probably why she never liked carnival rides. Just looking at them made her stomach turn. It's funny she never made the connection, since she was a fairly bright girl.
When she finally made a real friend, the friend of a lifetime, she was never so grateful for anything. She had a few friends that lived near her house, but she was friends with them because of proximity, not because they were her soul mates.
When she first saw this girl from another land, she was mystified. This girl looked like no one she had ever seen. The girl had dark eyes like the night, and hair rich and thick as pitch. She didn't speak the language of the world the little girl lived in, but she wanted to be near this girl. She just knew they would understand each other. Here was someone from somewhere else...someone who might recognize her for who she really was and not shrink away in fear. Here was someone who looked as scared as she felt. This new girl might even be from the land far, far away and then she could tell the little girl about the place she was ripped away from. This girl smelled like exotic spices and food she had no names for. This girl looked like the answer to her prayers.
It turned out that these two girls fit together well, completed each other in a way. They learned from each other, one learning a new language and the ways of a foreign place and the other learning about trust, and love and friendship. They both needed each other, for different reasons, yet need is need and it can be something that lights a spark that kindles a friendship of a lifetime.
The new girl listened intently as the little girl told her stories of horses and ice skating, fairy tales she pretended were true. She lived in a place filled with fear and anxiety, and preferred to dwell in her fantasy world much of the time. Eventually, once she began to trust and feel safer, she left her fantasy life behind. No more lies, no more pet horses that didn't exist. She preferred reality, because her new friend lived there. It was a brighter place now, the world she lived in and she wasn't alone anymore. This new friend from a new place had saved her life.
They grew up eventually, as little girls are wont to do. There is nothing for it. Life goes on, high school, college, marriage...all these things happened to the two girls who didn't always live near each other. Sometimes they didn't speak for long stretches of time, but it never failed, when they heard each other's voices, the time between meetings was diminished and they picked right up where they left off. Their friendship was easy, and reassuring. It was one of the things in the world they could count on, despite the demons, angels and victims they might encounter in their everyday lives. Shadows didn't seem quite as frightening when they were together. The land far, far away didn't matter as much either. It was nice to have someone to be scared with....someone who didn't judge you for your humanity....someone who loved you anyways.
The little girl hoped that someday, she would tell her friend how grateful she was for her simple gift. Sometimes when we reach out in need, a hand is there, and it desires us as much as we do them.
Blessings come to us when we least expect it.
Thank you, my friend, she would say....I knew you the moment I saw you...I knew you would change my life. I still remember that moment....the look on your face, the light as it hit the blackboard in the little classroom. I remember it all, and I love you....just the way you are.
The people who raised her were considered her parents in every way. She rarely questioned her position in their family. It just was what it was. Her father had a warm scent, and she liked to hold his hand and put it to her nose and inhale deeply. Her mother was loving, sweet and kind, as all mothers should be. She smelled of tomato sauce and fried dough and was always singing or whistling as she worked. These details, though small, helped to make the girl feel safe, even when the warm scent of her father grew angry and felt like it would burn her skin. She grew up as most little girls did in those days, spending lazy summer days reading on an old blanket in the yard, playing hide and seek with those who dared to be her friend. She was quiet, and apprehensive around strangers, afraid of her own shadow and the demons that could lurk there. She knew there were demons in the world, and some of them lived in her house with her. She knew about angels and victims too, as they lived there also. Sometimes she felt she would be safer living at the zoo in the lion cage, other times she liked her unpredictable life. It was rather like being on a roller coaster. She never thought that's probably why she never liked carnival rides. Just looking at them made her stomach turn. It's funny she never made the connection, since she was a fairly bright girl.
When she finally made a real friend, the friend of a lifetime, she was never so grateful for anything. She had a few friends that lived near her house, but she was friends with them because of proximity, not because they were her soul mates.
When she first saw this girl from another land, she was mystified. This girl looked like no one she had ever seen. The girl had dark eyes like the night, and hair rich and thick as pitch. She didn't speak the language of the world the little girl lived in, but she wanted to be near this girl. She just knew they would understand each other. Here was someone from somewhere else...someone who might recognize her for who she really was and not shrink away in fear. Here was someone who looked as scared as she felt. This new girl might even be from the land far, far away and then she could tell the little girl about the place she was ripped away from. This girl smelled like exotic spices and food she had no names for. This girl looked like the answer to her prayers.
It turned out that these two girls fit together well, completed each other in a way. They learned from each other, one learning a new language and the ways of a foreign place and the other learning about trust, and love and friendship. They both needed each other, for different reasons, yet need is need and it can be something that lights a spark that kindles a friendship of a lifetime.
The new girl listened intently as the little girl told her stories of horses and ice skating, fairy tales she pretended were true. She lived in a place filled with fear and anxiety, and preferred to dwell in her fantasy world much of the time. Eventually, once she began to trust and feel safer, she left her fantasy life behind. No more lies, no more pet horses that didn't exist. She preferred reality, because her new friend lived there. It was a brighter place now, the world she lived in and she wasn't alone anymore. This new friend from a new place had saved her life.
They grew up eventually, as little girls are wont to do. There is nothing for it. Life goes on, high school, college, marriage...all these things happened to the two girls who didn't always live near each other. Sometimes they didn't speak for long stretches of time, but it never failed, when they heard each other's voices, the time between meetings was diminished and they picked right up where they left off. Their friendship was easy, and reassuring. It was one of the things in the world they could count on, despite the demons, angels and victims they might encounter in their everyday lives. Shadows didn't seem quite as frightening when they were together. The land far, far away didn't matter as much either. It was nice to have someone to be scared with....someone who didn't judge you for your humanity....someone who loved you anyways.
The little girl hoped that someday, she would tell her friend how grateful she was for her simple gift. Sometimes when we reach out in need, a hand is there, and it desires us as much as we do them.
Blessings come to us when we least expect it.
Thank you, my friend, she would say....I knew you the moment I saw you...I knew you would change my life. I still remember that moment....the look on your face, the light as it hit the blackboard in the little classroom. I remember it all, and I love you....just the way you are.
Thank you.......
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Ponderings
Taking a moment today to just wonder......
I'm wondering how long it takes for a twist tie to disintegrate in a landfill.
I'm wondering how many licks it REALLY takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop.
I'm wondering how long you can keep potatoes out in the summer before that funky smell fills your kitchen.
I'm wondering how much it costs to make a toothpick.
I'm wondering why clothing styles come in and out of fashion. Why can't we come up with anything REALLY new?
I'm wondering if we really are a speck, just like in Horton Hears a Who. What if we're being carried around by a giant elephant?
I guess I'm just wondering silly, pointless things today. But, thinking is good. It keeps the brain cells young. I'm just being ridiculous today, but truthfully, of all the questions I ask here, the speck one is my favorite. I wonder if God holds us, like Horton, carefully placing us down at night so we don't bang into anything and get jostled around. I like to think that we really are carried around in the Creator's hand. I can't imagine creating something so incredible and not hanging around to watch it, to embrace it, to ponder it.
This isn't something you make and walk away from. This is grand in its design, a monumental achievement in architecture. The intricate way it all fits together, the seasons, the ebb and flow of the tide...it's just too perfect to be a mistake.
We are loved, and of that I have no doubt. You can't see the fall splendor and not feel as if you are a witness to the divine. No, we are not even a witness to it, we are a PART of it. The Creator is in us all.
I feel that everyday, and I hope that you do, too.
I'm wondering how long it takes for a twist tie to disintegrate in a landfill.
I'm wondering how many licks it REALLY takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop.
I'm wondering how long you can keep potatoes out in the summer before that funky smell fills your kitchen.
I'm wondering how much it costs to make a toothpick.
I'm wondering why clothing styles come in and out of fashion. Why can't we come up with anything REALLY new?
I'm wondering if we really are a speck, just like in Horton Hears a Who. What if we're being carried around by a giant elephant?
I guess I'm just wondering silly, pointless things today. But, thinking is good. It keeps the brain cells young. I'm just being ridiculous today, but truthfully, of all the questions I ask here, the speck one is my favorite. I wonder if God holds us, like Horton, carefully placing us down at night so we don't bang into anything and get jostled around. I like to think that we really are carried around in the Creator's hand. I can't imagine creating something so incredible and not hanging around to watch it, to embrace it, to ponder it.
This isn't something you make and walk away from. This is grand in its design, a monumental achievement in architecture. The intricate way it all fits together, the seasons, the ebb and flow of the tide...it's just too perfect to be a mistake.
We are loved, and of that I have no doubt. You can't see the fall splendor and not feel as if you are a witness to the divine. No, we are not even a witness to it, we are a PART of it. The Creator is in us all.
I feel that everyday, and I hope that you do, too.
Monday, October 25, 2010
August Nights
On an August night, many years ago, she received her first kiss. It was a hot night, the air was virtually electric around her. Excitement coursed through her veins. There seemed to be very little fear although this was all new to her. To think that someone like him would be interested in her, a mousy, 13 year old girl with skinned knees and no fashion sense. It made her giddy and light headed. What did he see in her? Why did he have that look of longing in his eyes? He must see something in her...there must be something beautiful, something worthy there.
They met by the fence gate. His gaze melted her, from the inside out. She felt beautiful, small, fragile and powerful all at once. This was sweet, and it tasted like honey.
Thirty some odd years have passed, and he is not the same person he was on that night, and neither is she. In the grand scheme of things, he was her first kiss, which of course woke her up to the joys of electricity, but that's what it was, one of many firsts she would experience. She has grown up and has children and a family of her own, and so does he. They are not discontented, they have grown and moved on. But, despite their changing, they will always exist somewhere, somehow as they did that night by the fence, two young people grasping at life, holding on to something precious. A first is, if anything, a precious thing.
If all nights could be August nights......invigorating, electric and new.
Why can't August last forever? Why must we grow old?
They met by the fence gate. His gaze melted her, from the inside out. She felt beautiful, small, fragile and powerful all at once. This was sweet, and it tasted like honey.
Thirty some odd years have passed, and he is not the same person he was on that night, and neither is she. In the grand scheme of things, he was her first kiss, which of course woke her up to the joys of electricity, but that's what it was, one of many firsts she would experience. She has grown up and has children and a family of her own, and so does he. They are not discontented, they have grown and moved on. But, despite their changing, they will always exist somewhere, somehow as they did that night by the fence, two young people grasping at life, holding on to something precious. A first is, if anything, a precious thing.
If all nights could be August nights......invigorating, electric and new.
Why can't August last forever? Why must we grow old?
Friday, October 22, 2010
Our Safe Place
I gave one of my blogs some thought last night as I was tucking myself into bed. I wrote about my daughter's safe place....our home as a child and how secure we can feel when we are there and when we have memories of it. I have to say that although this time is my daughter's...that while the home I have made for her is HER safe place, I realized that it is MY safe place too.
When the world seems like too much and the news is full of sad stories of suffering, war and heartache, I curl up in my daughter's room, wrap us both up in a warm blanket and tell magical stories of unicorns, puppies, snails and squirrels...and the whole world seems to slip away and it's just us and nothing can touch us there. Well, at least that's how it feels. I got thinking how it was her safe place, but really, it is OURS, together, and I have no illusions about how fleeting these moments will be and how quickly time will change our landscape and it won't be recognizable to me as she gets older. But, this safe place is ours, now, and I am just trying to enjoy it for what it is, when it is. I hope I won't be too sad when her room changes, as she grows taller and away from us, but I know I will be, at least sometimes.
I hope I will be brave enough to let her do what she needs to do. I think that's one of the most important things as parents that we have to do for our children....there comes a day when we have to let go. I hope that I am brave.
I want to be brave. Maybe that's half the battle.
When the world seems like too much and the news is full of sad stories of suffering, war and heartache, I curl up in my daughter's room, wrap us both up in a warm blanket and tell magical stories of unicorns, puppies, snails and squirrels...and the whole world seems to slip away and it's just us and nothing can touch us there. Well, at least that's how it feels. I got thinking how it was her safe place, but really, it is OURS, together, and I have no illusions about how fleeting these moments will be and how quickly time will change our landscape and it won't be recognizable to me as she gets older. But, this safe place is ours, now, and I am just trying to enjoy it for what it is, when it is. I hope I won't be too sad when her room changes, as she grows taller and away from us, but I know I will be, at least sometimes.
I hope I will be brave enough to let her do what she needs to do. I think that's one of the most important things as parents that we have to do for our children....there comes a day when we have to let go. I hope that I am brave.
I want to be brave. Maybe that's half the battle.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Love is Simple
Sitting by the pond on a brisk, sunny afternoon in October, she said, "Have I changed your life? I don't mean that you live in a nicer place because of me, or you eat better food...I mean..." She paused....he looked at her and said, "I know what you mean, yes, you have changed my life. You are my life. I am a better person because of you." She reached out to him, and returned those same words to him, for they were welling up inside. They held each other and watched the autumn wind blow through the red, yellow and orange leaves. They stood there together and defied the winds and rain and storms that lay just beyond the blue skies of that beautiful day.
They had helped each other to become better people because of their love and acceptance. Love is simple. It uplifts, it restores and it calms.
Love is simple. If it's not...then it's not love. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Nostalgia
I was struck last evening by a moment of nostalgia and memory and it was prompted by such a simple act.
I was sitting on my daughters bed, waiting for her to finish coloring a picture she had been working on. We were getting ready to read a story from a book she brought home from school. I was sitting there with her stuffed fox toy, pretending to read to it. After the story was done, she got up, took the fox and wrapped him in her favorite blanket and told him to stay warm while he waited for her to finish her picture. It was a simple gesture on her part...a loving gesture, really. It told me one thing...that she will nurture when she gets older....that she will care about the comfort of others and seek to make others happy. That certainly made me smile. But that's not all that moment did for me.
I watched her cross her room with the ease and carefree nature only the young can experience. She felt safe. She was in her personal zone, her safe place, her home. You could see she was comfortable and that she believed, even for that one moment, that all was right with the world, and it felt good.
I recall feeling that as a child...that my room was my safe place where the world couldn't touch me. My room as it was no longer exists in the physical world, yet, in some strange way, it still exists in my mind and I feel like on some level, it's still there, and always will be.
That thought brought waves of nostalgia rolling over me, and as quickly as it came, it was gone. I felt the past for that brief moment and could swear I could hear my mother puttering around in the kitchen and hear the television in the living room....and my father's smokers cough, too. It was a strange moment, but blissful and beautiful as well. Most people have a mixed bag kind of childhood...good and bad moments squeezed together in a tight little ball, and we had our share of questionable moments back then, but oh, there is something about the past, the time we spend being taken care of, that makes us feel peaceful, no matter how difficult those times could really be.
I could smell the dinner cooking, hear it sizzling on the stove....hear the canned laughter coming from the wooden console television, (is he watching I Love Lucy again?!) and for a moment I was back. Just a moment...but when you get to be my age, a moment is just enough.
I recommend nostalgic moments for everyone to experience at least twice a month...it gets you thinking, and lets face it, thinking is what makes us human and keeps the mind fresh...so get out there and stir up some happy memories....or make some to enjoy later.
Just don't let me catch you sitting around and wasting time...whatever you do....just DO IT!
I was sitting on my daughters bed, waiting for her to finish coloring a picture she had been working on. We were getting ready to read a story from a book she brought home from school. I was sitting there with her stuffed fox toy, pretending to read to it. After the story was done, she got up, took the fox and wrapped him in her favorite blanket and told him to stay warm while he waited for her to finish her picture. It was a simple gesture on her part...a loving gesture, really. It told me one thing...that she will nurture when she gets older....that she will care about the comfort of others and seek to make others happy. That certainly made me smile. But that's not all that moment did for me.
I watched her cross her room with the ease and carefree nature only the young can experience. She felt safe. She was in her personal zone, her safe place, her home. You could see she was comfortable and that she believed, even for that one moment, that all was right with the world, and it felt good.
I recall feeling that as a child...that my room was my safe place where the world couldn't touch me. My room as it was no longer exists in the physical world, yet, in some strange way, it still exists in my mind and I feel like on some level, it's still there, and always will be.
That thought brought waves of nostalgia rolling over me, and as quickly as it came, it was gone. I felt the past for that brief moment and could swear I could hear my mother puttering around in the kitchen and hear the television in the living room....and my father's smokers cough, too. It was a strange moment, but blissful and beautiful as well. Most people have a mixed bag kind of childhood...good and bad moments squeezed together in a tight little ball, and we had our share of questionable moments back then, but oh, there is something about the past, the time we spend being taken care of, that makes us feel peaceful, no matter how difficult those times could really be.
I could smell the dinner cooking, hear it sizzling on the stove....hear the canned laughter coming from the wooden console television, (is he watching I Love Lucy again?!) and for a moment I was back. Just a moment...but when you get to be my age, a moment is just enough.
I recommend nostalgic moments for everyone to experience at least twice a month...it gets you thinking, and lets face it, thinking is what makes us human and keeps the mind fresh...so get out there and stir up some happy memories....or make some to enjoy later.
Just don't let me catch you sitting around and wasting time...whatever you do....just DO IT!
Friday, October 15, 2010
Outlive Your Life
I heard today about a concept called "Outlive Your Life." I didn't hear the whole commercial or advertisement or whatever it was, but it got me thinking.
I think that's what we should all strive for.....to outlive ourselves....to leave a legacy behind. There are times I know we have all wondered exactly what our purpose is, how we (our little insignificant selves) can make a big difference and change the world. We may feel insignificant, however, we are nothing close to that. Not even a grain of sand is insignificant. Everything has a purpose, so how can we feel any different about ourselves? This thought rather hearkens back to my previous blog regarding doing something great and how great things are really available to us everyday. I tend to go on rants in themes for a while....hope you don't mind!
How do we find our purpose? Well, I think that we shouldn't have to look far and we shouldn't waste time waiting for a revelation from above. I think we should just take action, grab a cause and just do it. From there, doors will open, things will be revealed and your purpose will become clear. No one is insignificant, no action goes unnoticed in the grand scheme of things. All kindness is worth the effort, no matter now minor it may seem to you at the time. Take a step. Make a purpose....don't wait for one to drop from the sky and hit you in the head.
Make it happen. Outlive your life. Leave a legacy of love and caring and friendship, and you live forever.
I think that's what we should all strive for.....to outlive ourselves....to leave a legacy behind. There are times I know we have all wondered exactly what our purpose is, how we (our little insignificant selves) can make a big difference and change the world. We may feel insignificant, however, we are nothing close to that. Not even a grain of sand is insignificant. Everything has a purpose, so how can we feel any different about ourselves? This thought rather hearkens back to my previous blog regarding doing something great and how great things are really available to us everyday. I tend to go on rants in themes for a while....hope you don't mind!
How do we find our purpose? Well, I think that we shouldn't have to look far and we shouldn't waste time waiting for a revelation from above. I think we should just take action, grab a cause and just do it. From there, doors will open, things will be revealed and your purpose will become clear. No one is insignificant, no action goes unnoticed in the grand scheme of things. All kindness is worth the effort, no matter now minor it may seem to you at the time. Take a step. Make a purpose....don't wait for one to drop from the sky and hit you in the head.
Make it happen. Outlive your life. Leave a legacy of love and caring and friendship, and you live forever.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
A Gift
Everyday is a gift. Don't mistake it for anything else. It's a gift. No one owes it to you. It doesn't have to be perfect. It doesn't have to be sunny out or smell good. It's just a gift, and you should do your very best with it, everytime you get one. Every morning, thank whatever diety you subscribe to for this new chance to do something great. Then get out there and do something great. (Great things include: making a friend laugh, smiling at a stranger, telling someone you love their new hairstyle, asking someone if they feel better after being sick, petting a dog, feeding the birds) Great does not have to be climbing Mount Olympis. Great is simpler than that. Great can be an everyday thing, and if it's not, make it so.
You are great. You are worthy of experiencing everyday to the fullest extent you can, and if that means coughing, sneezing, blowing your nose and smiling at the mailman as he hands you your mail, then that's it. Make it the most sincere smile you can, get back to bed and take all your meds! Sometimes great is hiding behind a sick day. Sometimes great is right under our noses and we just can't see it because we're looking right over it.
You don't have to be the President of the United States to change the world. Just be you. You were made especially for this purpose. You have all you need. Stop waiting for greatness to knock on your door. Stop thinking greatness is for everyone else but you. You are GREAT. Get out there and make your mark. Wasting time is not an option.
Everyday is a gift. It's just that simple.
You are great. You are worthy of experiencing everyday to the fullest extent you can, and if that means coughing, sneezing, blowing your nose and smiling at the mailman as he hands you your mail, then that's it. Make it the most sincere smile you can, get back to bed and take all your meds! Sometimes great is hiding behind a sick day. Sometimes great is right under our noses and we just can't see it because we're looking right over it.
You don't have to be the President of the United States to change the world. Just be you. You were made especially for this purpose. You have all you need. Stop waiting for greatness to knock on your door. Stop thinking greatness is for everyone else but you. You are GREAT. Get out there and make your mark. Wasting time is not an option.
Everyday is a gift. It's just that simple.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Sad
I saw on the news this morning that the Hezbollah have made a "theme park" in Lebanon celebrating their fight against Israel......really? Are these people NUTS?
They showed little children with their parents looking at displays of bombed out buildings, crashed tanks and rubble...and these people were excited! They even had a gift shop where you could buy hats and t-shirts so you could remember your trip to their version of Happyland forever!
My face dropped.
It made me sad. I couldn't even be angry. I was just sad.
They showed little children with their parents looking at displays of bombed out buildings, crashed tanks and rubble...and these people were excited! They even had a gift shop where you could buy hats and t-shirts so you could remember your trip to their version of Happyland forever!
My face dropped.
It made me sad. I couldn't even be angry. I was just sad.
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