I've been going through a lot of papers and books saved because I thought they were very important and worthy to keep. Basically, it's my second-sifting of them, and another 10% has been recycled. Yet, the inspiring words of others continue to counsel me and I am grateful to have the remaining 90%!
There is a book titled New Suns Will Arise - From the Journals of Henry David Thoreau -- text edited by Frank Crocitto and beautiful photography by John Dugdale. Here, I will share what is on page 20, from Thoreau's journal entry dated March 15, 1852:
"May I dare as I have never done! May I purify myself anew as with fire and water, soul and body! May I gird myself to be a hunter of the beautiful, that naught escape me! May I attain to a youth never attained! I am eager to report the glory of the universe; may I be worthy to do it; to have got through with regarding human values, so as not to be distracted from regarding divine values. It is reasonable that a man should be something worthier at the end of the year than he was at the beginning."
Wednesday, November 09, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
A Happy Suppertime
Monday afternoon a co-worker came into the facility kitchen with a huge birthday cake, followed by a few trips to her car for groceries. Oh my gosh, I'd forgotten all about her younger daughter's big birthday - she is ONE year old! A more adorable, cherubic-faced, happy Hispanic baby would be hard to find. Little Nadia is pure happiness.
It had slipped my mind that Nadia's mother, who is a caregiver and also works in the food industry, and caters events, was going to prepare one of the two entree choices! All I had to prepare for supper was fettuccine alfredo. Piece of cake! I didn't even have to come up with soup du jour as there was going to be so much food and dessert.
The decibel level in the large dining room rose to a new level with a dash of excitement and anticipated fun. The cause? - The older sister and brother were putting a shiny Mickey Mouse table cloth on one of the tables with matching paper plates. And the little princess was being paraded from table to table to the joy of everyone.
Meanwhile, mama was busy dicing fresh cucumbers, roma tomatoes, grating carrots, chopping cilantro, adding 'krab' meat, shrimp and prawns, fresh-squeezed lime juice, black pepper, some ketchup and a little hot sauce. This concoction, once tossed well, was mounded by a generous spoonful atop a crispy corn tortilla - we titled the dish "ceviche tostada" - pronounced: se-vee'-chay. The happy mama dished up a sample and I shared it with each table to encourage the older generation to take a risk with something new. Most of them did try it and really loved it. The colors were just a joy to see - echoing the beautiful colors of autumn outside.
Then came dessert-time. Everyone sang "happy birthday" to the wobbly-footed toddler who promptly plunged her hand deep into one of the frosting "pine trees", buried her face into a corner of the cake and came out grinning, wearing the green, and blue "sky". Everyone got a piece of the large cake, plus a small cup of multi-colored jell-o pieces held together in a gelatin mixture made with evapored milk. Sounds not so good, but delish. I'll try to get the recipe.
It was a very happy suppertime - light-spirited. Gosh, we should have little children around more often. We adults tend to take ourselves so seriously. Mealtime is very, very important to residents at assisted living facilities, and, well, not everyone can be pleased at the same time. We keep trying.
"Mama" has many friends among the caregivers, and they came to honor her efforts and be part of the happy celebration.
One of the residents will celebrate her birthday in two days. She will be 101. Just imagine the age difference between the birthday girls - one entire century! God help us all for what the future brings. We really need to prepare the little ones for strength and hope and perseverance.
It had slipped my mind that Nadia's mother, who is a caregiver and also works in the food industry, and caters events, was going to prepare one of the two entree choices! All I had to prepare for supper was fettuccine alfredo. Piece of cake! I didn't even have to come up with soup du jour as there was going to be so much food and dessert.
The decibel level in the large dining room rose to a new level with a dash of excitement and anticipated fun. The cause? - The older sister and brother were putting a shiny Mickey Mouse table cloth on one of the tables with matching paper plates. And the little princess was being paraded from table to table to the joy of everyone.
Meanwhile, mama was busy dicing fresh cucumbers, roma tomatoes, grating carrots, chopping cilantro, adding 'krab' meat, shrimp and prawns, fresh-squeezed lime juice, black pepper, some ketchup and a little hot sauce. This concoction, once tossed well, was mounded by a generous spoonful atop a crispy corn tortilla - we titled the dish "ceviche tostada" - pronounced: se-vee'-chay. The happy mama dished up a sample and I shared it with each table to encourage the older generation to take a risk with something new. Most of them did try it and really loved it. The colors were just a joy to see - echoing the beautiful colors of autumn outside.
Then came dessert-time. Everyone sang "happy birthday" to the wobbly-footed toddler who promptly plunged her hand deep into one of the frosting "pine trees", buried her face into a corner of the cake and came out grinning, wearing the green, and blue "sky". Everyone got a piece of the large cake, plus a small cup of multi-colored jell-o pieces held together in a gelatin mixture made with evapored milk. Sounds not so good, but delish. I'll try to get the recipe.
It was a very happy suppertime - light-spirited. Gosh, we should have little children around more often. We adults tend to take ourselves so seriously. Mealtime is very, very important to residents at assisted living facilities, and, well, not everyone can be pleased at the same time. We keep trying.
"Mama" has many friends among the caregivers, and they came to honor her efforts and be part of the happy celebration.
One of the residents will celebrate her birthday in two days. She will be 101. Just imagine the age difference between the birthday girls - one entire century! God help us all for what the future brings. We really need to prepare the little ones for strength and hope and perseverance.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Baked Sweet Potato with Lemon and Maple Syrup
What a wonderful thing that 'Di' sent in her comment re the Olde English Pork and Prune recipe. Some day I shall tell what has taken me so long to get this posted.... :( .....but now that I'm on a week vacation and feeling a bit more rested from the crazy work I do I am able to share this lucious recipe with you.
BAKED SWEET POTATO WITH LEMON AND MAPLE SYRUP
(A bit different for Christmas)
2 lbs white sweet potato (purple skin) preferably, or orange sweet potato.
3/4 cup maple syrup
3/4 cup lemon juice
2 tbls veg. oil
Mix together
Peel sweet potato quickly, before it oxidises
and cut into 1" rounds or chunks.
Steam until just soft.
Place into baking dish and pour over
mixture, coat well.
Place into a pre-heated oven at your normal baking temperature, turning over at least once.
Bake until most of the juices have been absorbed, or become sticky, about 3/4 hour. Be careful not to burn.
Serve as an accompaniment to a main meat dish, or as a main with a salad.
Bon appetit!
Di
BAKED SWEET POTATO WITH LEMON AND MAPLE SYRUP
(A bit different for Christmas)
2 lbs white sweet potato (purple skin) preferably, or orange sweet potato.
3/4 cup maple syrup
3/4 cup lemon juice
2 tbls veg. oil
Mix together
Peel sweet potato quickly, before it oxidises
and cut into 1" rounds or chunks.
Steam until just soft.
Place into baking dish and pour over
mixture, coat well.
Place into a pre-heated oven at your normal baking temperature, turning over at least once.
Bake until most of the juices have been absorbed, or become sticky, about 3/4 hour. Be careful not to burn.
Serve as an accompaniment to a main meat dish, or as a main with a salad.
Bon appetit!
Di
Recipe from Renee and Mike
SURVIVAL SOUP
3 cups cabbage, cut up
1 cup carrots, cut up
1 large onion, diced
1 can French-style green beans, drained
4 cups water
2 beef bouillon cubes (or chicken, or veg - I used fake veg chicken ones and it's good)
12 - oz low-sodium tomato juice
1/2 tsp (or less) salt
1/2 tsp black pepper (to taste)
1) Combine cabbage, carrots, celery, onion, and greens beans in slow cooker.
2) Heat the water to boiling in kettle or saucepan, sir in bouillon cubes. When dissolved, pour over vegetables.
3) Add tomato juice, salt and pepper.
4) Cover. Cook on low 8 - 10 hours.
3 cups cabbage, cut up
1 cup carrots, cut up
1 large onion, diced
1 can French-style green beans, drained
4 cups water
2 beef bouillon cubes (or chicken, or veg - I used fake veg chicken ones and it's good)
12 - oz low-sodium tomato juice
1/2 tsp (or less) salt
1/2 tsp black pepper (to taste)
1) Combine cabbage, carrots, celery, onion, and greens beans in slow cooker.
2) Heat the water to boiling in kettle or saucepan, sir in bouillon cubes. When dissolved, pour over vegetables.
3) Add tomato juice, salt and pepper.
4) Cover. Cook on low 8 - 10 hours.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Watermelon Salad!
Watermelon Salad
Ingredients are:
1 (4- to 4 1/2-pound) piece watermelon, preferably seedless3 large ripe tomatoes, preferably green or orange heirlooms, seeded and cut into 1-inch cubes
1 medium sweet onion, such as Vidalia, Maui, or Walla Walla, thinly sliced
4 tablespoons chopped fresh mint
1 cup (4 ounces) crumbled feta
Cut off and discard the watermelon rind. Cut the watermelon into 1-inch cubes, removing any seeds as needed. Transfer to serving bowl. Cover and refrigerate until chilled, at least 1 hour and up to 12 hours. Add the tomatoes, onion, and mint to the watermelon and toss gently. Add the feta and toss again. Serve immediately.
One tip: While the melon should be chilled, the other ingredients are their most flavorful at room temperature, so combine the salad just before serving.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Patriotic Cake
Prep Time:30 min
Total Time:4 hr 30 min
Makes:16 servings, one slice each
Total Time:4 hr 30 min
Makes:16 servings, one slice each
2 baked round white cake layers (9 inch), cooled (I've also made this with a 9 x 13 pan)
2 cups boiling water, divided
1 pkg. (4-serving size) JELL-O Brand Strawberry Flavor Gelatin, or any other red flavor
1 pkg. (4-serving size) JELL-O Brand Berry Blue Flavor Gelatin
1 tub (8 oz.) COOL WHIP Whipped Topping, thawed, divided
PLACE cake layers, top-sides up, in two clean 9-inch round cake pans.
Pierce cakes with large fork at 1/2-inch intervals.
STIR 1 cup of the boiling water into each flavor dry gelatin mix in separate small bowls 2 min. until completely dissolved. Carefully pour red gelatin over 1 cake layer and blue gelatin over remaining cake layer. Refrigerate 3 hours.
DIP one cake pan in warm water 10 sec.; unmold onto serving plate. Spread with about 1 cup of the whipped topping. Unmold second cake layer; carefully place on first cake layer. Frost top and side of cake with remaining whipped topping. Refrigerate 1 hour or until ready to serve. Cut into 16 slices to serve. Store leftover cake in refrigerator.
Jazz It Up
Serve with colorful fresh berries, such as blueberries, strawberries and raspberries.
Variation - Patriotic Poke Cake with Cream Cheese Frosting
Pour gelatin over cake layers and refrigerate as directed. Unmold 1 of the layers onto serving plate; set aside. Beat 2 pkg. (8 oz. each) softened PHILADELPHIA Cream Cheese and 2 cups powdered sugar in large bowl with electric mixer on medium speed or wire whisk until well blended.
Gently stir in whipped topping until well blended. Spread onto cake layer on plate as directed; top with second cake layer. Continue as directed.
Wednesday, March 02, 2011
The Fourth Plate
It took a long time to get used to removing the three plates from the cupboard; and three cups, forks, knives, spoons, napkins.
What had been in use was now just a spare plate, bowl, cup. In mute testimony they sat as though they were waiting for, wanting, what the old days required of them. They had purpose, but remained frozen in time while the others grew old and worn with the added mileage - stretching the distance away from the first day, the first for real day they remained in the cupboard.
The fourth of everything should have been thrown out, not even given but thrown where all garbage goes. Even the fourth chair. We should have burned it in the fireplace, gathered the cold, gray ashes and flushed them down the porchelain 'throne'.
No. Instead he was able to continue torturing us via the fourth plate.
Even many years later in a moment accidental, when thought is far off, does the hand retrieve the heart's never-failing longing for the family of four of anything. Isn't it interesting that through all these years that damn plate like a memory remains clear through time while the other three tire and clearly show the signs of wear?
I have said this before and I'll say it again - the dad in a family has an awesome responsibility to stay his course, because the damage he can do leaves an imprint that takes their children a lifetime to survive and try to overcome.
What had been in use was now just a spare plate, bowl, cup. In mute testimony they sat as though they were waiting for, wanting, what the old days required of them. They had purpose, but remained frozen in time while the others grew old and worn with the added mileage - stretching the distance away from the first day, the first for real day they remained in the cupboard.
The fourth of everything should have been thrown out, not even given but thrown where all garbage goes. Even the fourth chair. We should have burned it in the fireplace, gathered the cold, gray ashes and flushed them down the porchelain 'throne'.
No. Instead he was able to continue torturing us via the fourth plate.
Even many years later in a moment accidental, when thought is far off, does the hand retrieve the heart's never-failing longing for the family of four of anything. Isn't it interesting that through all these years that damn plate like a memory remains clear through time while the other three tire and clearly show the signs of wear?
I have said this before and I'll say it again - the dad in a family has an awesome responsibility to stay his course, because the damage he can do leaves an imprint that takes their children a lifetime to survive and try to overcome.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Letter to Freedom
I found this article/letter, written by Carl Anthony Davis, printed in a newspaper in 1977. Many people can relate to it; it is the story of my life:
"Dear Freedom,
I know that you are very busy, so I'll try not to take up too much of your time. First, I would like to apologize for not being able to visit you these last [forty]-five years but believe me, Freedom, there were many days when I wanted to do so, but my opposition had me outnumbered by all kinds of heavy artillery. Please, Freedom, don't feel that I have abandoned you since I've been inside these walls.
For even though we are still many years apart, you are constantly on my mind; each and every second of the minute, every minute of every hour, and I will never, ever, be able to fully live, to be happy, to be all of which I am, until you and I are once again united, to form a person instead of an [object].
As we both know, this day is still a long way off for me, and until that beautiful day comes, I will just have to continue to think of you, dream of you and wait for you to come, so that I can stop hating and start loving, stop thinking and start doing, stop existing and start living the way a person is supposed to live, absolutely, resolutely, wholly, thoroughly and complete.
But listen, Freedom, if by a slim chance this glorious day never arrives for me, then remember me for the type of person that you've always known me to be and not for the type of person others thought I would be if - once again - I was made a FREE [WOMAN]."
"Dear Freedom,
I know that you are very busy, so I'll try not to take up too much of your time. First, I would like to apologize for not being able to visit you these last [forty]-five years but believe me, Freedom, there were many days when I wanted to do so, but my opposition had me outnumbered by all kinds of heavy artillery. Please, Freedom, don't feel that I have abandoned you since I've been inside these walls.
For even though we are still many years apart, you are constantly on my mind; each and every second of the minute, every minute of every hour, and I will never, ever, be able to fully live, to be happy, to be all of which I am, until you and I are once again united, to form a person instead of an [object].
As we both know, this day is still a long way off for me, and until that beautiful day comes, I will just have to continue to think of you, dream of you and wait for you to come, so that I can stop hating and start loving, stop thinking and start doing, stop existing and start living the way a person is supposed to live, absolutely, resolutely, wholly, thoroughly and complete.
But listen, Freedom, if by a slim chance this glorious day never arrives for me, then remember me for the type of person that you've always known me to be and not for the type of person others thought I would be if - once again - I was made a FREE [WOMAN]."
Monday, February 14, 2011
"O Joy! - It's Valentine's Day"
The following is a poem I wrote in February, 1994. It isn't meant for everyone - just for those who can relate to it:
Oh, Cupid, Roman god of erotic love.
Picturesque infantile boob!
Cupid is partial and his love is blind.
That's why dumbo misses certain people
when he shoots.
'Cupid' rhymes with 'stupid'
for a very good reason:
Cupid shoots his arrow
and hits the one,
but either he misses the other,
ran out of arrows,
or he just plain forgot to finish the job.
(Probably heard the dinner bell ring.)
What can you expect from a thousand year old,
naked fat baby with underdeveloped wings
who plays with his bow and arrows?
Get a real job!
Valentine's Day is Stupid Cupid Day
for the pixilated-intoxicated.
And if I see old baldy once more
I'm gonna pepper his dimpled butt with my
spring-loaded Red Ryder special!
Ka-Blaaammo !!
Love,
Thursday, February 03, 2011
My Life Symbol
As the snow and ice storm of the decades sweeps across the nation my thought reaches out to the coming Spring.
As the economic and moral storm of the decades sweeps across the nation my thought reaches out to the coming promise of better-lived days. We all could use more greenery in our lives, eh? - lol
I took the picture shown on the lower right (not of me, silly! lol). I wish it could be bigger, because I use it as my desktop picture and it is the best one I've ever taken. The little postage stamp-size here doesn't give it justice. But look at the colors - all early Springtime. The promise of things to come.
The symbol of my life is the edelweiss. Its beginnings, before it even appears, is a struggle to break through the ice in its urgency to emerge into sunshine. It is not tall and stately, nor is it abundantly colorful. It is very close to the ground. I'm not sure if it has a fragrance at all. The flower does not bloom among fine greenery everywhere, where the breezes promise warmer days coming. It is a blossom of snow.
I learned long ago that I am no tropical flower. I came to being in an icy environment, cold and distant. The birth itself nearly killed me and the birth-mother. My collarbone had to be broken in order for me to break through and emerge into the glaring lights of the delivery room. With a splint on for two or three days my collarbone healed up, I was told.
I have not actually studied about all the characteristics of the edelweiss, but I plan on it soon, for as soon as I can afford it I shall have a tattoo of its image on my right hand. It will serve as a reminder that I am strong enough to break through the ice to get to the sun - to a life fulfilled. It is not a wonder to me that when I go up into the foothills and mountains of the Cascades here in Washington State, every fiber of my being comes alive. Never fails to happen. Snow is my life. Being there makes me feel as though I am truly home - that I belong to my birth-place and my unseen-continued-journey place.
I am bringing aspects of the mountains into my home by way of rustic, lodge-like features. I love pines and pinecones, cedars, hemlocks, firs, birds, bears, well, you get the idea. My shower curtain looks like buckskin with pine needle and pinecone designs. I have many stones of varying sizes, birds' nests that were abandoned and would fall by the time the Autumn rains come. I never took nests when they were another's home. And I have many and various feathers that have come my way.
Some things one's spirit just knows. Does this sound like I long to belong? I think so, too. So, I will continue working at the ice, again. Some day the light of truth will shine on me and I will understand. For now I am grateful to be that edelweiss. I have beauty in my own way; I have integrity and value in my own way. I live because Creator is my life.
From "The Sound of Music": "Edelweiss, every morning you greet me. Small and white, clean and bright, you look happy to meet me. Blossom of snow, may you bloom and grow, bloom and grow forever. Edelweiss, bless my homeland forever."
As the economic and moral storm of the decades sweeps across the nation my thought reaches out to the coming promise of better-lived days. We all could use more greenery in our lives, eh? - lol
I took the picture shown on the lower right (not of me, silly! lol). I wish it could be bigger, because I use it as my desktop picture and it is the best one I've ever taken. The little postage stamp-size here doesn't give it justice. But look at the colors - all early Springtime. The promise of things to come.
The symbol of my life is the edelweiss. Its beginnings, before it even appears, is a struggle to break through the ice in its urgency to emerge into sunshine. It is not tall and stately, nor is it abundantly colorful. It is very close to the ground. I'm not sure if it has a fragrance at all. The flower does not bloom among fine greenery everywhere, where the breezes promise warmer days coming. It is a blossom of snow.
I learned long ago that I am no tropical flower. I came to being in an icy environment, cold and distant. The birth itself nearly killed me and the birth-mother. My collarbone had to be broken in order for me to break through and emerge into the glaring lights of the delivery room. With a splint on for two or three days my collarbone healed up, I was told.
I have not actually studied about all the characteristics of the edelweiss, but I plan on it soon, for as soon as I can afford it I shall have a tattoo of its image on my right hand. It will serve as a reminder that I am strong enough to break through the ice to get to the sun - to a life fulfilled. It is not a wonder to me that when I go up into the foothills and mountains of the Cascades here in Washington State, every fiber of my being comes alive. Never fails to happen. Snow is my life. Being there makes me feel as though I am truly home - that I belong to my birth-place and my unseen-continued-journey place.
I am bringing aspects of the mountains into my home by way of rustic, lodge-like features. I love pines and pinecones, cedars, hemlocks, firs, birds, bears, well, you get the idea. My shower curtain looks like buckskin with pine needle and pinecone designs. I have many stones of varying sizes, birds' nests that were abandoned and would fall by the time the Autumn rains come. I never took nests when they were another's home. And I have many and various feathers that have come my way.
Some things one's spirit just knows. Does this sound like I long to belong? I think so, too. So, I will continue working at the ice, again. Some day the light of truth will shine on me and I will understand. For now I am grateful to be that edelweiss. I have beauty in my own way; I have integrity and value in my own way. I live because Creator is my life.
From "The Sound of Music": "Edelweiss, every morning you greet me. Small and white, clean and bright, you look happy to meet me. Blossom of snow, may you bloom and grow, bloom and grow forever. Edelweiss, bless my homeland forever."
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Hanging up my pompoms
Hello everyone. I do hope your January 2011 is going well. Keeping any of your New Year Resolutions? lol It's pretty tough unless you've picked a couple that are easily do-able.
I've done just that and it feels as though I'm picking up some steam by actually accomplishing it. To explain what that is would probably bore a lot of people, but for me this is a significant indication of an improvement in me. I began my "resolution" about a week before Jan. 1. I have a book collection that I have never read. Books have been given and have been bought. However, I was not able to pick one up and read it because I felt guilty taking the time to read when always there is something among my possessions that needs to be put in order. Never a settled enough thought to let go and read. I had no concentration.
A few months ago I experienced a break-up with someone who simply stopped wanting to talk to me and who found something to accuse me of which I am completely innocent and always have been. I was called the "c" word and whatever threads had remained since the previous no-talking-to time, broke. And, along with them my spirit-flame appeared entirely extinguished. After so much abandonment, abuse, neglect, being lied to, beginning with my parents, and ending with someone I thought was a friend, I chose to live my life out on my own. I didn't know who I was; I'd tried to fit in, to become something acceptable so I could "belong" - only to be so stripped of any remaining dignity that I didn't see myself as anything.
As I slogged through the days alternately longing to hear that voice at the end of the phone line and dreading to hear it (I've blocked my phone from any calls), I returned, like the prodigal son, to my Bible for comfort and support and strengthening. It is the ONLY thing that got me through.
After a long period of time I felt my spirit-flame was alive, just deeply buried. The icy hold of fear and sorrow and resentment began to yield. Then suddenly one day I felt a surge of energy to purge. "Why am I keeping all of these books? I need to get rid of them!" As I went through the shelves I found maybe one I could let go of; all the others remained to appear full of the potential that originally drew me to them. Okay, so getting rid of them wasn't the answer - READING them was.
I moved to the other side of my full-size bed where the wall lamp is. I put a tiny table next to the bed that now holds a 'cube' radio/clock, a compact CD player, and a couple of books I chose to start with - a beloved hymnal, and Judith Isaacson's Seed of Sarah - not knowing whether I would be able to concentrate on the words. Yikes!!
I've now read four books. They're not big books - they just call to me "I'm next!" The windowsill next to my bed has a small row of books waiting to be read.
My spirit began to rise up through the ice built up through the decades. I had hoped that the one I came to love (and fear) would help bring me through the glacier, but instead the ice got thicker, the controlling, the verbal and emotional and psychological abuse continued - it was a burial. I realized that I was going to have to make it, looking only to Father-Mother, God to lift me, for Christ to shepherd me. Or I would die of a broken heart. I knew this to be so.
However, I am a mountain flower - an edelweiss, an alpine lily. My birth was a struggle, and emerging always has been - but breaking through the ice to reach the sun is something I've done again and again. I was born amid alpine snow.
Where am I going with this? - I have always been a 'cheerleader' - encouraging others, giving my version of rah-rah-rah; I have been an enabler, learning to be one since childhood. I don't mean learning to be a kind person - I mean one who enables others to continue their harmful, self-centered ways at my expense. Well, after reading and finding that I not only could concentrate, but that I hungered for accomplishment and was rewarded for the effort, new views on how I could live a happier life began to open up! I saw, and with my true friends' help as well, that I had worth just as I am - that I'm okay just - the - way - I - am! That was a frustration to me for a long time because I didn't know who I was; the 'me' only they saw.
One morning I realized that I had to stop being everybody's cheerleader and be my own. Since the pompom waving is a decades-long activity (lol) I am learning slowly how to back off trying to enable.
Things are slowly improving for me, but I know that the direction is good. Of course, to continue improving more purging is needed - it's not all about books, I know. But in the reading of the books my world is opening up to the beauties contained in them. I am healing. I do hope that these words help others; if not, oh well, it's MY story. :)
I wish you all well.
I've done just that and it feels as though I'm picking up some steam by actually accomplishing it. To explain what that is would probably bore a lot of people, but for me this is a significant indication of an improvement in me. I began my "resolution" about a week before Jan. 1. I have a book collection that I have never read. Books have been given and have been bought. However, I was not able to pick one up and read it because I felt guilty taking the time to read when always there is something among my possessions that needs to be put in order. Never a settled enough thought to let go and read. I had no concentration.
A few months ago I experienced a break-up with someone who simply stopped wanting to talk to me and who found something to accuse me of which I am completely innocent and always have been. I was called the "c" word and whatever threads had remained since the previous no-talking-to time, broke. And, along with them my spirit-flame appeared entirely extinguished. After so much abandonment, abuse, neglect, being lied to, beginning with my parents, and ending with someone I thought was a friend, I chose to live my life out on my own. I didn't know who I was; I'd tried to fit in, to become something acceptable so I could "belong" - only to be so stripped of any remaining dignity that I didn't see myself as anything.
As I slogged through the days alternately longing to hear that voice at the end of the phone line and dreading to hear it (I've blocked my phone from any calls), I returned, like the prodigal son, to my Bible for comfort and support and strengthening. It is the ONLY thing that got me through.
After a long period of time I felt my spirit-flame was alive, just deeply buried. The icy hold of fear and sorrow and resentment began to yield. Then suddenly one day I felt a surge of energy to purge. "Why am I keeping all of these books? I need to get rid of them!" As I went through the shelves I found maybe one I could let go of; all the others remained to appear full of the potential that originally drew me to them. Okay, so getting rid of them wasn't the answer - READING them was.
I moved to the other side of my full-size bed where the wall lamp is. I put a tiny table next to the bed that now holds a 'cube' radio/clock, a compact CD player, and a couple of books I chose to start with - a beloved hymnal, and Judith Isaacson's Seed of Sarah - not knowing whether I would be able to concentrate on the words. Yikes!!
I've now read four books. They're not big books - they just call to me "I'm next!" The windowsill next to my bed has a small row of books waiting to be read.
My spirit began to rise up through the ice built up through the decades. I had hoped that the one I came to love (and fear) would help bring me through the glacier, but instead the ice got thicker, the controlling, the verbal and emotional and psychological abuse continued - it was a burial. I realized that I was going to have to make it, looking only to Father-Mother, God to lift me, for Christ to shepherd me. Or I would die of a broken heart. I knew this to be so.
However, I am a mountain flower - an edelweiss, an alpine lily. My birth was a struggle, and emerging always has been - but breaking through the ice to reach the sun is something I've done again and again. I was born amid alpine snow.
Where am I going with this? - I have always been a 'cheerleader' - encouraging others, giving my version of rah-rah-rah; I have been an enabler, learning to be one since childhood. I don't mean learning to be a kind person - I mean one who enables others to continue their harmful, self-centered ways at my expense. Well, after reading and finding that I not only could concentrate, but that I hungered for accomplishment and was rewarded for the effort, new views on how I could live a happier life began to open up! I saw, and with my true friends' help as well, that I had worth just as I am - that I'm okay just - the - way - I - am! That was a frustration to me for a long time because I didn't know who I was; the 'me' only they saw.
One morning I realized that I had to stop being everybody's cheerleader and be my own. Since the pompom waving is a decades-long activity (lol) I am learning slowly how to back off trying to enable.
Things are slowly improving for me, but I know that the direction is good. Of course, to continue improving more purging is needed - it's not all about books, I know. But in the reading of the books my world is opening up to the beauties contained in them. I am healing. I do hope that these words help others; if not, oh well, it's MY story. :)
I wish you all well.
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