TIME

Time, for many, is a healer of wounds...both physical and emotional. Time gives each of us a chance to be eternally hopeful because time seems to hold an infinite quantity of second chances. It allows the opportunity for self-examination to those bold enough to explore within. Time acts, in many instances, as the catalyst that makes us choose one path rather than another. I smile as I think of the times instant gratification has influenced my decisions. Instead of choosing wisely or cautiously, I chose what felt best in the heat of the moment. How different my life would have been if I had given more thought to the consequences of my decisions! Nonetheless time always ironed out the kinks and made even the roughest roads easier to travel. Time too often morphs into a dreaded enemy who extinguishes life’s positive spark with uncertainty and fear. Time demands each of us to face the unknown. How we handle that unknown and incorporate it into our character shows our true strength and versatility. A person who remains “young at heart” has embraced the inevitable seasons of life. Growing old gracefully is an art that depicts a rare, true inner beauty. Vanity creates a battlefield in which gray hair and wrinkles are silent soldiers who strike unmercifully while we are busy living life. One day we awake to find our bodies have changed and our days are numbered. The gift of immortality was just an illusion. It isn't until we grow older that we see all good things do come to an end and dying is just as much a part of life as living has been. Ultimately, is time a friend or foe?

Time is Too slow for those who wait, Too swift for those who fear, Too long for those who grieve, Too short for those who rejoice; But for those who love, Time is eternity

~Henry Van Dyke~

Gratitude statement: I'm thankful time hasn't closed my heart from the pain I've experienced, but opened it to be more understanding and compassionate. 

* Repost from April 30, 2010

30 TRUTHS IN 30 DAYS - DAY SEVENTEEN

Truth #17:  Worrying about anything never changes the outcome. All it does is make you tense, miserable and a borderline lunatic while you wait or work through a problem or find a solution to some pressing issue in your life. Sometimes it makes the matter seem impossible and a hundred worse than what it really is. I never could figure out why some people worry about EVERYTHING even about stuff that hasn't happened yet and may never happen. They have Plan A, Plan B and sometimes Plan C all figured out for things that might never happen. But of course if that zombie apocalypse does happen they'll be fully prepared for it while the rest of us perish wishing we had paid closer attention to what the worriers were doing.  

THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS PAST

My memories of Christmas don’t involve lavish gifts or miracles. No, Christmas during my younger years wasn’t like that at all. Although I must admit I don’t remember ever wanting something and not getting it eventually. My children would (in unison) tell anyone that ideology and practice is called "delayed gratification" and delayed gratification builds character. My memories of Christmas as a child have more to do with the simple things and of the people who touched my life each Christmas season. As a young child our tree always seemed so huge, but thinking back on it now, the tree was probably no better or bigger than any "Charlie Brown" type tree. If memory serves me correct, my father used to go out into the woods and cut our tree each year. My mother would probably have a different memory of that occasion and tell me he was too drunk to do that. 

Regardless of whose memory is correct, each year we did have a tree from the woods of Maine and the tree was amazing! Maybe the elves brought it! Who knows? What I remember most about the tree is how my cats loved it. The ornaments seemed to give them endless joy throughout the Christmas season. The one ornament I remember clearest were ones made of tiny pinecones and painted white. Somehow they were fashioned into looking like birds. Needless to say, the cats found them along with everything else hanging from the tree fair game and put there for their amusement. After all isn’t a Christmas tree just a giant green cat toy? 

I was a quick understudy as a child. My brothers taught me if a string was pulled across the gifts very slowly, the cats would "accidentally" tear open the wrapping paper just enough for a peek inside. Of course, we were always warned not to do that, but mysteriously each year the gifts almost looked shredded by the time Christmas would come along. Those pesky cats were so naughty at times! Some winters would be barren right up until Christmas Eve and then miraculously come Christmas morning everything would be dusted with snow. The new fallen snow added to the spirit of the season and the anticipation of getting outside after being penned up in the house was almost unbearable. New snow meant sledding and snowball fights! 

While at Barnes and Noble recently I saw a Christmas card that was so "me". The only reason I didn’t get it was because I didn’t like the verse written inside. I usually go for some "beachy" Christmas scene to send to all my friends and relatives up North, but this year I opted for a cute kitty card. The card at Barnes and Noble that I saw made me think of my misspent youth. The picture was a black and white shot of a little boy bundled up in winter clothing standing next to a metal pole (most likely a flagpole) with his tongue stuck to the pole. I can’t remember how many times as a child I used to do the same thing. Why? Just because I could and probably because I was told not to do it. I learned quickly just how quickly I had to remove my tongue so it wouldn't stick to the flagpole at school...others weren't so lucky! Guess what? I still have my entire tongue! 

Each Christmas morning after unwrapping our gifts, my brothers and I would clean up the mess while my mother cooked a meal fit for royalty. One year my mother told my brothers that when I stopped believing in Santa, we would start opening our gifts on Christmas Eve so that the house wouldn’t be such a mess the next day. Let me end this entry by sharing that at the ripe old age of 5, I opened my gifts on Christmas Eve and have been doing so ever since. You see, my family is so good every year that Santa puts my family at the very top of his delivery list.

*Repost from November 23, 2011

MAGIC MUSHROOMS: FRIENDS OR FOES?

In this rather long article in Medical News Today treating depression and other mental health disorders like PTSD, anxiety and alcoholism by micodosing  psychedelic mushrooms and other psychedelic drugs is discussed in detail. If you or someone you know is considering this avenue of treatment, you might want to read this article.

30 TRUTHS IN 30 DAYS - DAY SIXTEEN

Truth #16: Children are remarkably honest creatures until we teach them not to be. Yes, children are born into this world without filters especially when it comes to honesty. As they grow up they learn how to cover the truth by using tact or worse, by outright lying. Being truthful in many situations we are told hurts people's feelings and so honesty is pushed aside for something a little more humane, thus we witness the birth of lies or "white lies" we like to call them. Children learn to lie for many reasons until all those reasons blend into one. As we become adults, some of us forget how or when to tell the truth because using "tact" is easier. But for a child the truth is always right there in the forefront waiting to be verbalized without hesitation or malice. For them, it's simple and straightforward. The truth is the truth!

WHY THE CAGED BIRD SINGS

This post was originally written and posted in 2005 on my original blog, Abnormally Normal People.

The caged bird sings for freedom. It sings as a disguise. It sings because if it remains silent, it will fade away and die. Many times I have tried to place myself in other people's shoes especially those people who feel as if they have to hide or cover up who they really are or conceal the lifestyle they have chosen to live because they fear the stigma and rejection attached to it. I grew up being the black sheep of the family, but even the antics of a black sheep doesn't come close to type of reaction created by someone who is homosexual. I can almost understand why some people try to lead a straight life, be something they are not and never feel comfortable enough to reveal who they really are. The inner turmoil must be devastating. Yes, I know all those who still say horrific things about homosexuality. I've heard all the arguments...all the pros and cons!!! I guess my views on the subject allow me to see the person as a human being and not as some perverted demon or freak of nature. 

Several years ago my mother made a strange statement to me one day. She told me that I had changed her views on homosexuals. Me? I'm straight....how did I do that? She asked me if I remembered the day I first learned that one of my female cousins was a lesbian. I thought back to that day over 30 years ago and remembered what an uproar within the family that announcement had caused. Hey, at the time I probably felt relieved because the focus wasn't on me and the gossip was centered elsewhere! Yes, I remember being told! My mother asked me if I remembered what I said to her when she told me about my cousin. I thought back, but I couldn't remember my initial reaction. 

My mother refreshed my memory by telling me that I informed everyone in the room that my cousin was the same person as she was the day before they all knew she was a lesbian. As far as I was concerned, nothing had changed. My mother said my words stuck with her and she knew what I had said was true. She stopped labeling my cousin and allowed her to continue being the person we always knew her to be. That acceptance broadened in time and allowed my mother to view others with different preferences and lifestyles as being just as human as she is and it made me smile knowing the black sheep can be pretty sagely at times!

Gratitude statement: I'm truly thankful for being able to view people's differences as differences and not in terms of making one person better than another.