Drop a friend a note just to say hello and to wish them a great day and weekend or if you have a special someone, leave a note tonight before you go to bed, where they will find it in the morning with the words I love you. Or you can draw a heart, or smiley face, or whatever. Just something that adds a little surprise, a little fun, and a great big smile 🙂
Have a good weekend!
Keeping it light and singing LiLoLa [Live, Love, Laugh] all the way…
I don’t know very many people who are perfect. I don’t know any actually, but there are certainly a lot of us who put our face forward acting as if we were and thinking anything less is unworthy; even shameful. It’s from this place of striving for perfection of whom we think we should be—the perfect parent; perfect spouse; perfect child; perfect employee; perfect person—that one day, we will inevitably stumble.
And when we do and we reveal ourselves of the imperfections of being human, we either ask forgiveness or are asked to forgive. Is there a limit to the number of times we forgive? Do the numbers change when we ask for forgiveness of others instead of ourselves?
Some people say there is no number—you forgive as often as there are stars in the sky, and then there are people like my ex-husband who held steadfastly in the belief of three strikes and you’re out.
I’m not sure which is harder, forgiving someone else or forgiving ourselves. I think that we tend to be much harder on ourselves, allowing feelings of shame and degradation for not being “perfect” to cloak us into feeling unworthy and unloveable.
Perfection isn’t real, but forgiveness is.
In those moments when we fall out of who we think we should be into who we really are, in our various stages of sometimes awkward, sometimes raw humanness, learning as we go, we need to remember that underneath it all, in each one of us, there is always the connection of grace and divinity. And for that, there is nothing to ask forgiveness for.
The next time someone you know has a birthday or some other life event, don’t just text your good wishes. Surprise the person with an actual card, and I’m not talking e-card either. I’m talking about a good old-fashioned paper card that needs a stamp. The little extra effort it will take on your part will go a long way and I guarantee it will be a pleasant surprise for the recipient, too!
Have a good weekend!
Keeping it light and singing LiLoLa [Live, Love, Laugh] all the way…
There are few people I know, who jump out of bed each morning with a smile on their face and an eagerness to greet the day.
So for those of us who slap the alarm clock and greet the day with a grunt and an “Ugh, morning already?”, change tactics tomorrow and intentionally set the tone rather than letting the day set it for you.
When you wake up tomorrow, create the space from the first moment you wake for a positive day and that whatever comes, things will work out. (The slapping of the alarm clock is still allowed.)
You can make it happen—it’s possible!
Have a good weekend!
Keeping it light and singing LiLoLa [Live, Love, Laugh] all the way…
Two weeks into the New Year and I am beginning to feel the realignment of balance and the recognition of coming back to a new normal. A new normal for me.
Each morning, as I sit quietly in the predawn, there is a sense of unfoldment, teasing me in its reveal.
The release of previous holds on me are shifting in ways that are creating a deeper understanding of past patterns and situations. Looking back at them, I see how necessary they were in order to build the ladder to the stars that are now aligning.
I continue to pray and listen to a response as I sit on my mat and count to Zen, riding my breath while it moves in and out of this body I have reclaimed.
It’s not enough to just feed the body.
It’s not enough to just feed the soul.
The soul needs the body to give birth to its dreams and the body needs the soul to live and experience those dreams. The feast is an interconnected ying-yang circle of continual flow. Another relationship where one shouldn’t live without the other is the balance of the head and the heart. I say shouldn’t because many of us only live in one or the other, perhaps too afraid of making the connection or simply not knowing how. No judgement. Just acknowledgment.
There are so many things I already knew up there, but as the dots begin to connect, I now know the same things down there, adding color and texture to the monochrome that lay there before. I can’t help but sigh and drop my shoulders as I relax into this realization of deeper knowing in my heart, and wider understanding in my mind. A brand-new landscape, for sure.
I’m excited at the hints I’m seeing of what’s ahead. A work in progress, that’s me but aren’t we all? We’re just at different stages of the artist’s vision. As the day deepens believe me, the loftiness I start the day with is something that needs constant attention because it’s so easy to be pulled one way or another and before I know it I’m taking another deep breath and counting to Zen. But circles aren’t always perfectly round I remind myself—that’s not the important part. The important part is that there is a circle and that the connection remains.
And tomorrow I will sit again, curious at what will unfold but knowing that whatever it is, I will be adding a new rung to the ladder that I’ll use to climb and reach the stars.
In the bright morning light of a new dawning day
The road stands open before us,
and beckons, “Come… this way.”
So take my hand as I clasp yours in mine
and we’ll walk this road together
until the end of time.
I recognized your soul and you knew me from my heart;
and now that we’re together,
God nor Devil can tear us apart.
It’s more than each other’s hand that we hold;
It’s the lifetimes of love
that have never grown cold.
Together we will each other’s company keep
until the day there’s only one,
but even then we’ll not weep.
For another life together lies beyond this, I know.
My lover, friend, companion;
Our love stays pure as snow.
Let’s take our steps together, hand in hand, heart to heart;
And I promise to love you forever…still…
never again in our love, shall we be apart.
Sit quietly and settle yourself in the peace of a moment. Silently, repeat 11 times to yourself:
Thank you, [insert your first name] for allowing me to live my life through you.
With each repetition, reach deeper into your heart, knowing that every day you are here on Earth, you are allowing your higher self to live through you.
Have a good weekend!
Keeping it light and singing LiLoLa [Live, Love, Laugh] all the way…
Next time you find yourself in front of a magazine section, whether at a bookstore or at your local library, or even in a doctor’s waiting room, get away from your normal reading material and grab a magazine or two on completely different subjects than you would normally read. Stretch your views and see what other interests and hobbies and newsworthy periodicals are available that you wouldn’t normally have even thought of looking at.
It’s fascinating and fun to see what makes people tick and what subjects have a strong enough following to have demanded a need for an actual periodical. I guarantee you will be surprised at some of the things you’ll find and you will learn something from each magazine you look at. It can be especially educational (and somewhat challenging depending on how strong your viewpoint is) to flip through magazines that are completely opposite of your normal interests.
Let yourself become a voyeur in a world that you know nothing or very little about. Who knows whether that peek may turn into a new passion!
Have a good weekend!
Keeping it light and singing LiLoLa [Live, Love, Laugh] all the way…
Inspiration struck early this morning driving me from my sleep and directly to my computer. I had no idea what was buzzing in me to get out but I just knew something was there. I settled down in the peace and quiet of a new day in this New Year and opened to a blank page. Immediately I was a witness to what my fingers typed. Words were dictated through me. It was one of those magical moments when I truly felt like a vessel and I was happy to be at least cognizant to realize that what was happening was because of something bigger than me. It is a haunting reveal that has come from somewhere deep and wide. I wasn’t going to post this but then I changed my mind and so here it is:
I hold the key but you hold the door.
Which gets me the freedom I so long for?
The walls around me are made of stone and brick,
I’ve tried to knock them down but still, they’re too thick.
I plead with you and beg you to release me; let me go,
but I fear that I’ve failed to convince you as your silence tells me so.
We did have our memories, our smiles, and our joys,
but you’ve changed, as have I, and I’m no longer your toy.
I bribe you, I beseech you, I cry out your name
but the walls they still hold me, prisoner in this cell of my pain.
One day it comes when I give up and give in.
As I collapse to the floor,
I wonder how much more can I take; will I ever win?
With one last effort I raise up my head
replacing failure and exhaustion with a prayer in its stead.
I lean on the wall from my weakness and pain,
and as I rise slowly, I see each stone has a name.
The names are Crazy and Lazy and Stupid and Slow.
I remember—all these words—I remember, I know.
I stared at the words finding more with each turn.
Each stone, each piece, their insults sting and they burn.
Slowly, I recognized the writing on the walls.
It was me who wrote them, and thus built this here space, my words lining the halls.
Enough! No more! I shouted, my words echoing back
as my fists I pounded out a full-fledged attack.
I found a crack in the wall and dug my fingers in deep;
I pushed and I pulled now fully awake from my sleep.
First one stone then another, soon the sun shone its way in.
I poked my head through the hole finally seeing from the darkness within.
The stones now fell faster breaking free of their walls,
as I pulled and I tugged, opening a hole in these halls.
At last I stepped through and crawled on my knees,
as the birds sang their songs and the sun shone through the trees.
Still dazed and confused, the sweetest air I now breathed,
I didn’t understand any of it, most of all the why me?
I picked up a stone, its carved words read clearly now,
I finally understood at the whys and the whens and most importantly the how.
The room I was in was a prison of my making,
and when I cried out to you it was really me I was forsaking.
I believed in those words of hate, shame, and fear
and I surrounded myself with them, I see it all now so clear.
There was never a door, I didn’t build one you see,
but what I still had that made the difference was in my holding the key.
I was once my own prisoner with my beliefs as my walls,
but I decided right then I’ll never go back to those halls.
I found in me the freedom to use kinder words,
no longer fearing I’d be looked upon as being absurd.
I picked up each stone from my past years’ abode
and threw them far and away from what used to be my home.
The rubble left behind of my dismemberment,
holds no sadness or shame, instead happiness and content.
Onward I walk now with more freedom than I’ve known,
my past will stay past and only good thoughts will I own.
I know as you read this, you saw your story in me,
so remember dear reader, you too, hold your key.
lilypadheart 