Archives for posts with tag: thoughts

A little bit lost in the fog one day–
ray of light, clouds spread out like angel wings,
deep breath, thankful for feeling the breath inside my being.

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A few weeks back I went with only one bag, ready to fill it with orphan library books. It was that time of year again when the library takes stock, unloading its shelves of books that will find happy, new homes. I’ve perused Gretchen Rubin’s The Happiness Project in the past, but didn’t immediately jump to action.

When I saw a beat up copy of the book staring out at me, I thought now seems the right time to dive in, figure out some more simple pleasure that I can add to my list and find new perspective in the familiar. There was a “Damage Noted” sticker on this one: “ragged, readable.” I taped up the front and back cover to reinforce it to get more use out of it before it starts to fall apart. I found some other books; I could’ve taken more bags, but I made a deal with myself that one bag was enough. I did also end up carrying a few books under my arms.

I’ve been dipping in and out of books. At one point I was going to pick up, in book form, where I left off in the audio version. I didn’t recognize anything, then I realized it was the wrong book and felt better. I sometimes worry that I’ll start losing track and cross plots and characters amongst the books I’m juggling. I’m usually pretty good about keeping it all separate. It’s challenging though, in the sense that I yearn to get back to one book, then another pulls me in, and that other one over there is saying, ‘read me, read me.’ All these books are vying for my attention.

Sometimes I know right away if a book and are will get a long really well; other times, I need to keep going a little longer to see if we’re a good fit. And still other times, I will feel satisfied right where I’ve stopped–forcing a new ending because another book is calling.

One book I almost gave up on is Antoine Laurain’s The Red Notebook. I’m so glad I didn’t. Month’s ago I started reading it, then put it aside. I had also downloaded the audio and started listening to it, then back to reading it–then perhaps it was being in one of the small bookstores looking through the tables of recommended books, and just maybe it was the woman nearby, also looking, searching, whom looked to me and said I loved this book, have you read it. I looked and because it was the hard cover, I didn’t immediately recognize it, then I said, “well, I started it, but haven’t finished it yet. I do believe it was her nudge that brought me back to the audio version. A sweet love story, that talking about, is making me want to go back for a visit.

One book that I recently downloaded is A Concise Chinese English Dictionary for Lovers. It’s different, in the way it’s organized through words–through the words the protagonist is learning, sprinkled with Chinese sayings. It has intrigued me and I think I’m in for the long haul. I want to see where this goes, how the language and thought process develops, how it ends.

Traveling through books is one of my favorite pastimes and also reading about peoples lives. I don’t always know whose lives will pull me in, wanting to read more, wanting to get to know the person more, read (hear about their experiences).

A couple of these that have recently come to my attention are Take Off Your Shoes: One Man’s Journey from the Boardroom to Bali and Back by Ben Fender. I am looking forward to traveling alongside Mr. Fender and his family. I’ve read up until the point where the transition begins and am happily awaiting getting back to the journey. The writing is clean and already I feel like I’m just beginning to know his family.

Driving Miss Norma: One Family’s Journey Saying Yes to Living by Tim Bauerschmidt and Ramie Liddle. How could I not be inspired by a 90 year old woman, who is diagnosed with uterine cancer, and decides to say yes to life , join her son and daughter-in-law on an adventure on wheels, living out the time she has left in what may possibly be her last hurrah.

I came across these books from the daily BookBub email that I signed up for. I have found out about many great deals from them. It’s great!

http://www.bookbub.com

I came across the book, The Novel Cure while I was looking for another book in the library shelves. I like the concept of being prescribed a book for what ails you. I also like the idea of being introduced to books that I may not come across or some that I’ve read to see what the ailment was. A fun one to flip through.

Here I sit, writing in my journal, one of my tippity-top forms of happiness and one of which I’ve been depriving myself from enjoying.

Here I sit feeling the cold on my arms,
feeling my muscles tense with the chill.
One last sip from my teacup,
minty freshness perks my senses.
I hear the television in the background,
the aroma of someone’s hearty dinner wafting in the air,
happiness found in the tap tap tap of fingers on the keyboard,
as thoughts connect with words connect with the page,
making the day feel alright.

An autumn day gives way to the feeling of winter. In the air the scent of someone cozy next to a warm fire. 

I look out the window waiting for my lunch, taking in the orange and yellow leaves against a perfectly grey sky. 

Rain shall come soon to wash away the impurities, wipe the slate clean to begin anew. 

There is something soothing about ripping pages out of an old spiral notebook, keeping a few pages to revisit, and having more blank pages to continue filling.

There is something soothing about finishing this task, picking out the loose pieces that detach and stick to the spirals.

There is something Zen-like about calmly picking away the trailing pieces, piling them into a small mound, then rolling it all together to set free–to make way for the new.

 I took a break from my audible subscription for a few months, but tonight while I was preparing dinner–a big pot of chicken soup with veggies and rice–I wanted to also be reading a book, so while the chicken was cooking away, I went to the audible website, renewed my subscription, browsed through some possibilities, listened to a few samples, and settled on The Glass Kitchen by Linda Francis Lee, narrated by Julia Whelan.

In some ways I ask myself: am I having trouble being in the moment itself, washing and chopping the vegetables, giving the soup a stir, washing dishes. This thought didn’t actually occur to me until dinner was complete–the eating and the cooking part–and I found myself putting fresh sheets on the bed, but first I reached for my wireless headphones, same as when I was cooking, and I returned to the story while I did this task.

Even though I had the story on, I felt as though I was able to be more thoughtful with making up the bed. I wasn’t rushing. I patiently pulled the duvet cover down over the down comforter, having to go back and forth to each side of the bed, pulling down, down, down, until it was snuggled inside. Then I fastened the ends. It felt like I was very present in the moment, with the story in the background–a story that ties into my dinner preparations and involves a woman with the sense of knowing that is expressed through her food.

Thoughts spin like a marble,
colors blend together into confusion,
going fast, spinning out of control.
And when the marble stops, there is
a great calm; the colors are vibrant, the surface is smooth–until it begins
again.

A bouquet of thoughts swirls around in my head. I’m taking a break from my Geology homework to come to the page.

I feel like I’ve had a few synchronistic moments that have led me back on a path. It’s funny how sometimes, when we knew something was available to us when we were looking for something else entirely, we forget it when we’re not looking for what we need. In this case, I’m referring simply to pursuing other online community college options to complete classes that were not offered locally or that were only offered during certain terms.

This nudge came in the form of a person who had just completed taking several accounting courses online through various community colleges. His goal is to obtain his CPA, while my goal is simply to re-take a college accounting 1 course to refresh the foundation material and take it from there. The good news is the college is on the quarter system. I wasn’t planning on taking two courses this term. I’m looking forward to the class. It begins on Monday. I’ve already received the group email from the instructor and I love his attitude. He seems upbeat, organized, encouraging. I’m also looking forward to brushing up on the material and getting a good grip on the fundamentals.

Yesterday while I was growing through the spiritual section in Barnes & Noble, I came across a book called, Angel Words by Doreen Virtue and Grant Virtue. I flipped through the small book and saw images of sound clips comparing positive and negative words. I felt inspired. It also brought me to Friday at work. In short, as my promoted co-worker, now boss, said to me when I was going into worry mode, “You usually see the glass half-full. Why aren’t you seeing it now!?” I think I paused and maybe I said that I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t too much of a crunch. We moved on to review the work we had left to do before our final deadline on October 15. I looked up from my page and said, “Ok, how about this, in the interest of a glass-half full, I think we can get three out the door next week. How’s that?”

“There, that’s better, he said. I think we can do that.”

A sigh of relief.

So when I saw the Angel Words book, it resonated with me and made me want to focus on the positive and to see the positive all the way through in as many areas of my life as possible. I feel so much better when I’m upbeat and optimistic, and besides my tendency to worry, I am pretty much an upbeat person.

I didn’t buy the book, but I did take something from it. It’s always nice to have reminders to set us back on the right track.

*The title of this journal came from a typo: going for growing. Not sure why I didn’t say browsing. I thought it was fitting to keep it as is…

I feel like I’m on a roulette wheel with my thoughts and writing. The ball spins and spins, like my mind, creating possibilities, memories, recalling memories, creating new memories, recording observations, but with this wheel, the numbers become placeholders for words and thoughts; each one an entry point into a place of exploration. Only, these many spinning possibilities keep spinning; the wheel becomes stuck with possibilities.

This morning, as the wheel turned, a book was my entry point. Just reading a couple of pages was enough for that slight shift, just enough to awaken a sort of luck to awaken my writing muscles a little bit further, flexing them in a way that sent a message that you will write these two words down and make a sketch and you will come back to this later and you will post this to your blog journal.

Entry point. Those two little words led me to a roulette wheel and what I was actually reading had nothing to do with anything, but something in that particular moment in time clicked.

And now many hours later, as I enjoy my lunch break, taking spoonfuls of delicious food, then returning to my notebook to continue with the morning spark, I am on that wheel; my entry point is right there–right here; always there.

Writing is good for the soul.

Writing and posting to my blog journal is good for my soul.

Even when something ails me, I need to push through it. Pushing through can only bring my body’s equilibrium back to a place of balance. These things I know, yet countless times, the words stay in a certain limbo, like the bouncing ball that can’t find its place, slips into the slot and out again, finally settling on a random place on the wheel.

And is it really so random?

Wasn’t it supposed to happen at this exact time and place? Or perhaps it had enough time commingling, jetting this way and that–when, the moment you look away, there it appears: A sense of order, of opening and closing–a pulse of life that cannot be contained, a sense of spinning, that spins and spins and spins until it can spin no more and must find a place to land, but only when the self disappears into the background.

And then before your eyes, it slips into the lucky number, the words fall into place, the entry point of many open up and you walk right in, tentative at first, then you reach the end; and you know the wheel will be there, always there when you’re ready, only you won’t know when you’re ready, but something deep inside of you that is outside of yourself will know and you will be there to answer.

Well, Monday, here you are again—a start to the five days that lead to Sunday. I’ve gotten used to you. I don’t dread you any longer. I try to find the joy in you and your other six brothers and sisters. Today, though, dear Monday, I’d like to have an extra day—just one more. I know this isn’t possible and that I must begin motivating myself to get out the door.

These past few days, weeks, months, I’ve jotted down little something’s in my private notebooks and journals, both of the paper variety and the electronic. I’ve had ideas come to me, things that I want to write about. I have starts—that’s a step in the right direction. All the little bits and scraps, though, have added up to so many directions and pieces that it becomes a challenge to decide where I want to go or if what’s there is enough.

And sometimes, like a record that skips and stays in the same spot for a time, that’s where I find myself. I don’t think it’s a bad thing, really. I know that when it’s time the lever will be jiggled and the skipping and repeating will subside. It’s just that I’m aware of it and being aware of it brings a sense of self-consciousness. At the same time, writing it out here, will release me for the time being; it may even cause more self-consciousness. It’s all part of the process—that is one of my mantras—and I can’t help coming back to it over and over again.

It rained last night, Monday, while I was sleeping. It rained and rained until this morning; and right now, I can see the sun bursting through the back window. It’s tempting me to come outside, to smell the freshness that rain brings. I suppose this morning, Monday, I would like to stay cuddled up with a book, write some more, drink some tea because I’ve had my fill of coffee for the morning. I would like to know what I’m preparing for dinner and I have something in mind, but nothing concrete, nothing that jazzes me, that beckons me into the mindset of wanting to be in kitchen. I want the kitchen to grab me, twirl me around and make me dizzy with joy.

Well, Monday, thanks for listening. It’s time for me to go to work now. It will be a fine day.

Miraculous
Outside
New
Dazzling
Alfresco
Yummy

Monday, Let’s go have a Yummy Day!