Blast from the past

Today I had a client come in with the last name of LaBroad...unusual name and it got me thinking about a guy named Benson LaBord that I haven't thought of in years...my first real pen pal. 

I don't know how old I was...it was one of those nebulous summers that somehow change you and you never know why.  Somewhere, I still have those letters that we traded back and forth for those months.  I remember sitting on the porch playing cards, just the four or five of us...Richie, me, Megan, John and Benson.  Benson would sit and draw, and we would talk and play until it was time to go home. I saw Ferngully for the first time that summer...and I still love it! 

Time is such a tricky thing...things that really get me, are the moments that seem so quiet, and yet stick with you for years.

The last letter I got from him was to tell me that his brother, John, was killed in a horrible car accident. I remember so clearly sitting on the stairs, blown away that this was what experiencing the death of a friend felt like.  Totally different from losing a family member... It felt so much more poignant, and yet "less"...somewhat removed. When family dies, you have had a lifetime of memories to comfort you, but their death is close...personal...and their death is not usually sudden. I remember the ripping feeling of that loss which I imagine was a hundred times worse for Benson and his family given that this WAS so sudden!

After my client left, I started wondering about what happened to Benson, I never heard from him again after that last letter.  Did he grow up, get a girlfriend, get married? Was his relationship with his family different without his brother? What kind of a person did he grow into, who did he become? Does he now have children of his own...maybe two boys?

Now this didn't start out as an In Memoriam, but more of a joyful and hopeful thought process, but it certainly took a darker twist than I intended, sorry. 

Maybe the little poem about people coming into your life for a reason, season, or lifetime is true.  Because of that little part of my life, I treasure my sister. I also learned that I will never be alone in my epilepsy, and it doesn't make me a freak (though I also learned that normalcy isn't something "better"). Most of all, I truly feel that snail mail will never be out of style because getting something personal in the mail can be a ray of joy.

So thank you, Benson, for teaching me about simple joys, accepting myself, and valuing time with family...God knows everyone needs to learn those lessons!

...Nature girl

Calendars

For some reason, maybe because I looked at a calendar right before falling asleep last night, I've had a phantom calendar at the front of my mind today. I can't seem to let go of the concept of time fitting into little boxes that describe the path of our lives.  A lifetime broken down into years, years into months, months into days, days into hours, all to chronicle the events of our daily lives.

Today was a good morning, you know the kind.  Those mornings where that extra ten minutes that the snooze gives you feels like an hour of blissful bonus time, and when you finally do get up you are charged and ready to go! I filled up my little hour slots with chores and getting ready, eating breakfast, and getting out of the house.  I could see the little time slots filling up as I did the various tasks. I love this kind of morning...it is so rare for me, I'm NOT a morning person and I felt very accomplished.

On the way to work, I passed half a dozen sandpipers and I could imagine the pages of my life calendar flipping backwards to the late 80's early 90's. I always think of sandpipers as my grade school mascot...piper pride! And for me they embody that time in my life, limbs a little too long (long wings and legs), bold and full of curiosity - they may be some of my favorite birds.

I can feel that this is going to be my day for remembering.  I feel nostalgic, like my brain is trying to make connections across my lifetime, flipping pages to connect two points in time.  

There are two birthdays in my sphere today.  One of a friend I have known more than half of my life, she is dynamic, and pushes herself to discover. The other has a life in flux, changing and morphing, forging a new path. Their paths are not mine, but in thinking of their spots on the calendar pages, I think of their personalities. They are a marker and a push for me today, to get out of my comfort zone, take risks and change! 

Every time I think of them, especially at this time of year, I experience this need to break form...expand who I am. I feel like the margins on my metaphorical calendar are full of things I want to do, need to do, or dream of having.  But very few of those things are written into the little boxes of my life - past, present, OR future. Looking at my actual calendar is a little demoralizing. It seems so empty for the life I am leading, and the life I want. It seems to be difficult to just start filling in the little boxes with new things, even scary.

There is a man here with a grocery cart full of signs, he's called "The Sign Guy".  I don't know if he has a job other than the signs, but I see him all over the place.  His signs are affirmations and encouragments of all varieties, "Be Happy", "Be the light you want to see in the world", "SMILE!", and on and on! I don't know what made him decide on a crusade of joy, but I long for his courage to commit to a thought and see it through. He is filling his calendar days and moments with smiles for other people.  I wonder how he see's his life? Does he see little boxes?

...Nature girl

Good 'old days

My Mom used to tell me that I was born into the wrong generation.

In kindergarten and first grade, I went through a cowgirl phase...complete with a denim skirt. In fourth grade all I wanted to wear was poodle skirts and pig tails. I came back around to western with a long denim skirt of Mom's and plaid in fifth or sixth grade. But when it was time for me to have my own style I picked the timeless style details like the boat neck collars, sundresses, and pinstripes.

Truly, I think that anywhere between 1940 and 1960 is where I would feel right at home.

Today at work I am having one of those moments where it doesn't matter what comes on the radio...I  hate it.  In desperation, I turned to trusty Pandora. Fun....nope, P!nk....nope...classical...nope!  I even tried Vampire Weekend and Neon Trees, which are usually slam dunks to put a smile on my face...nope.

Long story short...Standards was the winner. No idea why that was the button today, but as soon as it came on with Ms. Ella Fitzgerald singing "Summertime" my entire mood changed!  Now I'm calm, relaxed, and I feel right at home.

I'm convinced that standards are the cure for all ills.  It is a genre full of creativity, life and...well...verve! These artists are the real deal!  They are great performers, and intensely skilled in writing as well as executing their particular gift (singing, brass, piano ect.).  Today's popular music just can't hold a candle to the greats like Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, Dean Martin, Etta James and Nat King Cole.

Now that's not to imply that I don't like, or appreciate, modern popular music - I love Fun. and P!nk, and all the others that I mentioned! But to soothe my restless soul, there is nothing like music from the good old days.

...Nature girl

In the weeds

It's a funny phrase isn't it... "in the weeds".

Yesterday was a strange day. One of those days where you wake up feeling great, and energized, and ready to tackle the day.  Then, 5 minutes in, it feels like a giant sat on you.

In an attempt to recover from my metaphorical squashing, I spent a little time out on the lanai trying to rehab my one day garden.  Right now it looks like this:

It is small, and full of weeds, but one day it will be a lovely lawn for the pup (hopefully before he gets here the end of next month)...maybe. One of the big obstacles is the cement grid that the owner put down.  In order to get the weeds out, I have to weed each one of the little squares, one at a time. Now this would not be so much of an issue but I have to sit in the weeds, or kneel on a pad and bend over to pull them out, and my back strongly objects!

So as I was sitting in the weeds, pulling one little square at a time, I thought to myself "I am living out the phrase!". Faced with a giant task, a broken trowel (damn you plastic tool!!), and down to only a weed puller and my bare hands I started to laugh. My life seemed oddly poetic for a moment.

Then I realized I was sitting in weeds, barefoot, with dirt smearing my legs and ants starting to crawl on me....eew.

I gave up for the time, but suddenly I am really looking forward to soaking the ground and getting back into the weeds...I think that makes me crazy...and it will have to wait until Sunday.  Will I be breaking the Sabbath or is gardening an approved task?  Ah well, a topic for another time.

...Nature girl

"What's with today, today?"

You know it's going to be a weird day when the first think you think in the morning is:

"Please God, don't let me be bored."

It's like praying for patience (Mrs. B said that's how she got her second child), or an exciting life, or to find treasure...somehow you never get quite what you were meaning.

It's a gloomy day in paradise today, and people are quickly going about their day, walking past my windows, full of purpose.  I, on the other hand, am calmly sitting at my desk waiting for their day to intersect with mine.

Now, it's always a crap shoot when I am left to my own devices on days like this. I usually end up haunting iTunes, or cruising You Tube and I can't really say that today is different.  People either look at me with complete understanding, or like I've grown a second head when I try to explain the black hole that both of these become - I like to call it iTunes/YouTube hell.

Say you start with this...my favorite Muppet video.

But somehow...you end up here...

This is YouTube hell.  It's kinda fun once you get used to it, but you never get quite what you wanted.  I was going for lighthearted cartoons...kid stuff...how did this happen?  What's with today?

...Nature girl

Trust

I talked to a friend on Friday.

I didn't expect to get anything out of our conversation except the pleasure of talking to her, but despite the topics covered, or perhaps because of it, she taught me something about trust.

You see, for the last month or more my life has been a HOT mess. A quick move, a new job, a lack of support system and nothing but change (in my previously predictable life), had left me quite adrift and emotional.  Trust was NOT something that I had an ample supply of. I "hoped" that things would work out, I prayed for clarity and patience, I tried to rely on the hubbs more.  But looking back, trust was not something that I had...in faith, or in life.

It seems that trust is a more elusive concept than I thought.

During and after my talk with my "little sis" I found that I was lacking in my understanding of trust.  Real wholehearted trust is not a feeling, or an ideal, it is a foundation that you build everything else on. It is what props you up in times of upheaval, and what pushes you to keep going after trauma or disaster. Trust is an acknowledgment and acceptance of the support that we have around us wether we are in a position to "make it work" ourselves, or not.

I am a very self reliant person, and tend to think that my way is the best way, that I "let" people help me, instead of actually "needing" help.  But I think I am missing the point. Trust isn't about letting help come in, or even needing it to come; it's understanding that the choice to let someone in, really and completely in, is humbling your own pride and judgments and allowing the other person to become what THEY are designed to be.

It may be silly, and a little naive, but I believe that God designed each of us to grow and develop into a perfect foil for other people, wether in friendships, marriages, or work relationships. Humans are designed to be mutable, changeable, and many things for many people (mothers, fathers, siblings, cousins, co-workers, friends, and lovers). 

But what happens when in our pride and self-centeredness, we stop someone else from fulfilling a role? 

When we push friends away because "we can handle it". 

Or when we get mad at our spouse for doing something "wrong" and re-do it? 

How does that help the people around us to grow into what they are designed to be?

How is "trust" espoused when our own will is put in a higher position than that of our loved ones?

Trust is a gift to the people around us that our bumbling and tempestuous behavior is accepted. That as we are growing and transitioning we will still be supported and loved for the people we will become, and that the clumsiness of our growth will eventually fill in the spaces of need in our relationships.

Trust is being gracious, childish, angry, soothing, a shoulder to cry on or an ear to someone's frustration. It is also needy, selfish, funny, and a blessing.  Trust is what we are to each other, a whetting stone to sharpen and polish not only ourselves but friends and family and the casual passerby.

Trust is an honest humbling, an acceptance of our own imperfection on a path to perfect design.

Trust is grace in the most human and expressive way - undeserved, unlikely, and transformative.

Just some food for thought.

...Nature girl

Keeping tabs

The distance between me and my friends and family seems to be good for my relationships...weird right?

It seems that the closer you are to a situation or person the more you take it for granted.  In the past few weeks I have realized that I didn't just move away from home, I moved out of that bubble that distorts your perception.  Realizing just how much the people that I was lucky enough to have around me mean is a blessing. Their value has grown by leaps and bounds when I can't just drive to them for coffee.  "Distance makes the heart grow fonder" may not be such a antiquated phrase after all.

The silliest things make me think of the most random people back on the mainland!  Steve has taken to the Passion fruit tea with 2 pumps of sweetener (that's a Mariah drink), and is obsessed with finding a way to get his Angels baseball (Scott, Steve, Mariah and I went to a game together)! We found this little place called Pho 1 ( I think about B&E, Megan and Jill and I at Chinese new year) and there is a store called Simply Organized (that's Jules...the most organized person I know) that I pass every day on my walk home from work.  All these little reminders and a thousand others make me think of my loved ones, and people long gone from my life on a daily basis.

You may say that it's nostalgia and homesickness, but I truly feel that this is a way for me to process the true importance of people in my life.  I have talked to my Dad more in the last four weeks then I did in the six weeks prior to leaving! It's as if removing the nearness and availability of people has let me look at my relationships with a clearer lense.  Seeing which people and relationships are convenient and which are important and valuable.  I am ashamed to say that some people I thought of as convenient are really valuable, and some that I poured effort into were only convenient.

Finding that I have a real overwhelming desire to be everyone's newest and dearest friend was a little bit of a shock.  I always thought that I was thoughtful and deliberate in my friend group and that I was secure enough in myself to be discerning about what I needed in a support system...not so much, well, not as much as I thought.  The great part about this realization is that I know it now; and I can cultivate those relationships that have fundamentally changed me, in a good way, going forward.

That doesn't mean I'm going to suddenly drop people from my life, I care for all my peeps, but I'm going to redirect my energy so that the people I love know it.  People should know how important they are, by word and deed, because everyone should know their value, wether they are near or far.

...Nature girl