Silence Calls

Early in the morning, before the crickets begin to sing, silence calls me. The sky is dark, no distractions, no cries, no pressure other than the coffee cup by my side. The world is still asleep and not ready for the noise of the day. I can begin to hear my own thoughts, or sit and do nothing without boredom.

Somehow there is a naive peace in this silence. Possibly it is the world calling out for the voices to be stilled. Why is it so strange that the “natural” silent noise of the earth seems so unusual. We are so used to noise in this generation that I wonder if we are able to hear anything at all. Silence scares us, why?

Why did I not wake up earlier? I now begin to hear the low roar of the Hwy 101 bypass, soon the beeps, the vibrations and voices will overtake this unnatural natural peace. A new day is here to work, to play and to love. The silence reminds me to choose what noise I listen to. The silence reminds me the world doesn’t need to be so loud. Even in a crowd I listen for the voice of silence, she is not far away. Eventually she will quiet the anger and stress, that consumes our attentions. It is good to remember that our noise is temporary. The silence of the earth will live on long after our noise is done . . . maybe we can find peace if we would only learn to listen.

Enjoying the Adventure,

Dr. Dink

Oh Yes, I am!!!!

Tell me you wouldn’t feel totally empowered by this!

Hubby was checking the brakes on my car and comes in the house saying, “I need your help moving the car.” So, I grab my keys and he says, “You don’t need them.” I left them behind figuring he had the spare already. I THOUGHT that I was going to pull up the car on the ramp, but no, he had something different in mind.

The jack was too tall to fit under the car, and he needed to have the wheel free, so he got a pressure-treated 4×4 board and proceeded to say, “Here, just lift the car up!” I’m strong, especially for a girly-girl, but REALLY HONEY, YOU WANT ME TO LIFT UP A FREAKING CAR???? How high???????

I did it.

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THEN . . . 

I sang Helen Reddy, I am Woman!

I told every man I saw in Home Depot what I did.

I danced in the grocery store.

I’m a badass.

And really, it wasn’t even that hard to do! What makes you feel like a bad-ass singing Helen Reddy songs?

Enjoying the Adventure!

Dr. Dink

________________________________

Please visit my other Blog:  Brown Bag Letter

–a blog of stories celebrating “personal history”. You will find antique anonymous photos connected to stories people have shared with me about their grandparents and family folklore.

I encourage you to visit other bloggers at the following sites. You’ll find almost everything imaginable that can be written, in every form, from all over the world!

Pencliff   

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Chaos to Beauty

Sounds of mistakes, that only practice 

can forgive, were being heard. 

Rahul Gaur

adult black and white classic concert
Photo by SplitShire on Pexels.com

In his essay, Return of the Symphony, Rahul Gaur describes individual musicians in a orchestra practicing prior to a concert.  I was in a concert band and know what this sounds like, a flute practicing trills, the solo trumpet trying to perfect his part, the saxophone tuning and running scales, all simultaneously.  The sound is both chaotic and hopeful. And then the curtain rises, the conductor lifts his baton and everyone plays in concert with one another. The opposing sound is a shock of beauty.

adult art band blur
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

In order to bring about the soothing, gorgeous power of an orchestra, each individual has to practice their part. In an orchestra there is no room for individuality, beyond the fact that each person has chosen their particular instrument. The precise movement of sound and tempo bringing each note to it’s melting point with unified glory is what “makes” an orchestra. This takes patience. This takes individual responsibility to work through the difficult phrases. It takes a symbiotic relationship, working though mistakes until those mistakes are forgiven and orchestrated perfection is reached.

If you have ever played in a concert band, or any group of musicians, you know exactly what I’m talking about. If not, please know the music you listen to does not “just happen”, it takes not only talent, but work and practice . Considering Rahal’s saying, “Sounds of mistakes that only practice can forgive were being heard.” Is such a relevant description, not until the kinks are worked out and practiced through, then and only then are the musicians of the orchestra ready for their performance.

I can’t help but think of this saying as a metaphor for life. Isn’t it true that no matter what it is that we are attempting, mistakes can and are often made. This is true for relationships of various types. It is very true for those of us who attempt to communicate, mistakes are made, adjustments (and editing) bring us to a place of forgiveness and the speech is given, the blog published, the letter sent.

The thing is, oftentimes in life, we make mistakes and neglect to realize the forgiveness. Therefore, chaos enters. Hands are thrown up in frustration and practice not thought about. Often, we forget that life is about mistakes, trying again, practicing, perfecting. Or adjusting so that we can all live together in the wonderful symphony of life.

I think I shall frame this saying to remind me everyday that my mistakes can eventually be a thing of beauty, if only I try.

Enjoying the Adventure,

Dr. Dink

Thank you Rahul! Return of the Symphony

_____________________________

Please visit my other Blog:  Brown Bag Letter

–a blog of stories celebrating “personal history”. You will find antique anonymous photos connected to stories people have shared with me about their grandparents and family folklore.

I encourage you to visit other bloggers at the following sites. You’ll find almost everything imaginable that can be written, in every form, from all over the world!

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Pencliff

HUSBAND!

I LOVE MY HUSBAND!

BUT . . . there are times when,

well,

you know.

We have been working hard this week taking a roof off a house that we are flipping. We are taking advantage of a 5 day forecast of “NO RAIN” (I’ll believe it when I see it) here in Pennsylvania, hahaha, that’s funny, it’s summer!

So, when you’re up on a roof, with a hammer, a ply-bar and your muscles (or lack thereof) it’s important to have a good hearty breakfast, don’t you agree?  Our staple breakfast is Old Fashioned Oatmeal with flax seed & whatever fruit might be available with yummy cinnamon or ginger spice, maybe a sprinkle of nutmeg. Yesterday morning, of all mornings, (Day #2 of roofing job) my husband decides to “surprise me” by putting ANISE spice in my oatmeal.  He says, “I only put a little”.

So, who’s complaining? ME!

Karen, if you have a man that makes you oatmeal in the morning, self says, NEVER COMPLAIN!!! NEVER!  But Anise in oatmeal? Anise is what gives flavor to licorice. In all fairness, I tried. I added a little more milk, and tried not to smell that $#!+ in my breakfast bowl. I tried to be a WOman about it, but I couldn’t bear it. THEN, I started burping, which LASTED ALL DAY LONG and I didn’t even eat one quarter of the bowl. (Burping, like a woMAN).

As if I didn’t bitch enough about that to him, here I am sharing my bitching with the whole wide world . . .

That I am so grateful

That he put something so

AWFUL

In my oatmeal!

Why grateful you ask?

It brought back to me (in all my discomfort and awful disgust and burping anise) one of  the most wonderful memories of my childhood.

When I was a little girl, every Christmas Eve, we would visit our cousins. I remember one year there was a really bad snow storm, but we went anyway. We loved visiting our family and would have such a great time with our cousins. A part of that great time was the amazing cooking of their Mom, Aunt Carol. She was the best cook this side of the Mississippi, maybe even on the other side too. OK, she was possibly the best cook in the world.

She must have spent so much time in that kitchen baking cookies. They were all so tasty and pretty, but there was one that I was convinced only she knew how to make because I had never seen them EVER, anywhere before. So, every year, I would “try” one because they were the prettiest things I’ve ever seen. Aunt Carole’s pizzelle cookies were the most tempting.  I mean, really —wouldn’t you just want to eat this lovely thing?

Photo from Ann’s Entitled Life

I think I’m right, you would. Of all the cookies, these were the prettiest.

And guess what?

Every year

I HATED PIZZELLES

Why you ask?

Because they have ANISE in them!!!!

That’s why.

Today, as I was sweating on that roof, worrying about the danger, burping anise, I ended up thinking a lot about my family.

I thought about Aunt Carol. She passed away just a few months ago after a long battle with cancer. I thought about the bonds of love that surpass time and separation with my cousins. I thought about, not my hate for anise, but my LOVE for the memory of this smiling, beautiful woman.

I find it amazing that something that I ended up bitching about to my husband turned in to a wonderful day of remembrance.  Never underestimate the wonderful power of memory, even at the cost of eating Anise! By the way, Aunt Carol also made the best homemade pizza! Back in the 60’s, who made pizza at home? Aunt Carol!

Enjoying the adventure,

Dr. Dink

 

I understand that most “normal” people like pizzelles, so please try them! You can find the recipe for the beautiful photo above, and other recipes at Ann’s Entitled Life Please visit her page for great recipes & home ideas!

_____________________

Please visit my other Blog:  Brown Bag Letter

I encourage you to visit other bloggers. You’ll find almost everything imaginable that can be written, in every form, from all over the world!

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Matilda

Ok, so it’s an antique washing machine. It’s ugly! And you need to have a-plenty-of-muscle to lift this bugger on the pick-up. And . . . like many broken, tarnished, nasty old things, I’m in love with her.  I think I’ll name her Matilda.  Actually, what you see in this photo is the cleaned-up-version. I’ll save you the grossness of seeing what she looked like before!img_20180612_182243429849691238.jpg

I know many antique/ vintage lovers would take me to task when I share this, but I see Matilda painted barn red with a vanilla cream motor. Don’t you? Although she might like Aqua Marine, after all she is a washing machine.  She may become a hamper, however my son thinks that she would love to hold iced beer at a party!

One of the things I’ve noticed about me since I’ve been making a distinct effort to be vocal about positivity, to share positive thoughts, and live each day looking for the positive is that my sense of creativity has been re-awakened.  That can be a scary thing during Yard Sale season, or at an auction because “I see things that aren’t there yet.”

So, in a few weeks I hope to be sharing the “New Matilda” with you, but in the meantime, let me ask a question.  What is it that brings you joy and satisfaction? Creativity is one of my vices in life, but that’s me. What do you enjoy?  Are you enjoying it? Do you take the time to feed the monster? Why?  Why not?  What do you need to do to be inspired to enjoy who you are?

Enjoying the Adventure, (Along with my new friend Matilda)

Dr. Dink

 

-________________________________

Please visit my other Blog:  Brown Bag Letter

I encourage you to visit other bloggers. You’ll find almost everything imaginable that can be written, in every form, from all over the world!

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Live Into

Have you ever been challenged to describe yourself? What would be the word or phrase that “describes” who you are, or what you do? I’ve been thinking through this one, but honestly, it is very difficult to pick one word or phrase. THEN when you do, you realize that word, or collection of words can be interpreted 86 different ways. However, it doesn’t hurt to do a little self-reflection.

Back in my “leadership days”, I used a phrase quite often, “Live Into”. When I was working with a group of people, my job was generally to help them define who they were personally, or as a group. We would do many exercises to help define, for instance, the purpose of a particular group and the direction that group would take. When the essence of that project was named, I would say, “Now, Live into it!”  Meaning, if you have a goal, or hope for the future, you live NOW as if it has already begun to occur.

This is a both fun and frustrating exercise. Helpful, as it brings clarity. Frustrating, as it usually needs interpretation. The end result though is worth the frustration. One of my favorite tools for thinking is called bubbling. You begin with a word or phrase, then simply write words that come to mind. There may be  many layers, (thus secondary levels of bubbles). This is done as a brain-dump, in other words, don’t put too much thought into it, just write down what comes to mind. You can return later to refine.

This example is the result of the word GARDEN to give you an idea of how it works:

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As you can see, a lot comes up, for instance, Plant leads to tomato, which lead to types of tomatoes, then I would have to add another category called blight because we deal with it here on our land.

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Now imagine that you put your name in the center . . . what descriptive words would be in those first bubbles? What else would be added to those first words. Which ones do you really want to describe you? What ones do you want or need to cross off the list? Yes, it’s fun and frustrating! Now, which ones will you “live into”?

Living into is acting as if it already is, therefore becomes reality. Thus one of the reasons I always close with Enjoying the Adventure!

Enjoying the Adventure!

Dr. Dink

__________________________________________

Please visit my other Blog:  Brown Bag Letter

I encourage you to visit other bloggers. You’ll find almost everything imaginable that can be written, in every form, from all over the world!

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Grateful for the Everyday

Wow, yesterday was very quiet. I mean QUIET. I’m just glad it happened after I had perked my coffee. Yes, the electric went out. For 7 hours. This is the longest we’ve dealt with here. No great tragedy, storm or earthquake, just a gentle rain, that hasn’t stopped yet weakened a tree and brought wires down into the creek.

All day I kept thinking about doing “something” but it seems every something that I thought of required electric, or “it was just to dark in that room”, or sitting on the back porch, which I did a lot of yesterday, in June, dressed like it’s freaking winter out!

This seven hour electric dilemma, which when you really think about it, with all the storms and natural events, like wild fires and volcanoes, really messing up people’s lives around the globe . . .was nothing. However, it made me realize how I take advantage of something as simple as flipping on a light-switch and how that action improves my life. So, this morning while I wait for my coffee to perk, I’m grateful. I’m glad the electric went out to remind me that I’m really a spoiled brat. Today I will be grateful for the everyday things.

img_20180525_184523059_hdrDo you ever find yourself in a position like this? You know, when you realize that you take advantage of the things that make your life easier? What are those things?

Enjoying the Adventure,

Dr. Dink

_________________________

Please visit my other Blog:  Brown Bag Letter

I encourage you to visit other bloggers. You’ll find almost everything imaginable that can be written, in every form, from all over the world!

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