The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
(Kahlil Gibran)
Maybe that is why hope reigns eternal, because without which we might know sorrow, we surely cannot delight in joy. For if we cannot see blackness how can we find the light? If the light beckons only from white it is lost in the backdrop of an ethereal existence.
Shall I praise thy name for giving me much space to fill with joy? Praise be! Look - look to thee oh Lord and see thy sorrow has opened a cavern of emptiness. Cannot I, this day, be filled with joy?
Thy will be done, for it is true; we ARE all one under the same sun.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Blessed Wine
Not only is wine sweet inebriation, it is the miracle of Jesus as well. The very first miracle - with of course the urging of his sweet virgin mother Mary - Jesus' first miracle was at the wedding in Cana when he turned the water into wine. Not just any wine, but fruit of the vine top-notch wine. The kind of wine that caused the guests to wonder why it was not served first.
So, if Jesus chose this as his first miracle in part with the encouragement of his mother, I think wine must be the official beverage of women. Men can have the beer. Give me chocolate and give me wine the mood created will be divine.
Toast! To a good old vine zin. Toast! To a rich merlot. Toast! To a hearty port. Red red wine. Not just a song, but a melody instilled in the heart of the drinker.
Just remember, like everything else, sip the wine in moderation. To do anything else will dash away all melody and make for a long long wake up call. Trust me on that one. The voice of experience is always the smartest.
Toast! To you and to me and an old glory be!
So, if Jesus chose this as his first miracle in part with the encouragement of his mother, I think wine must be the official beverage of women. Men can have the beer. Give me chocolate and give me wine the mood created will be divine.
Toast! To a good old vine zin. Toast! To a rich merlot. Toast! To a hearty port. Red red wine. Not just a song, but a melody instilled in the heart of the drinker.
Just remember, like everything else, sip the wine in moderation. To do anything else will dash away all melody and make for a long long wake up call. Trust me on that one. The voice of experience is always the smartest.
Toast! To you and to me and an old glory be!
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
2Hot2Handle
Okay so the title may lack originality, but there is no better way to sum up the weather of late.
I mean "hello Mother Nature could you take it down a notch?" Either nature has reached naturopause which is much like the human season of menopause, but with farther reaching implications, or the earth has truly spun off its axis and into hell. Fire burning hell.
While I try to roll with the weather and take what comes this 90+ weather in the merry month of May has me anything but merry. Truth be told, I am not much for the ice dance of winter, but I am at least able to defend my comfort zone. As you may recall in an earlier post I indicated my pleasure in layering. Layering of clothes that is. Well in the chill of winter I have been known to layer my way to four levels of clothing. As long as the clothes are properly layered - starting with the thinnest and working my way to the big bulky sweater on top - the 4-level layer is really quite doable.
On the other hand, in the heat of a spring fever such as we have right now, I am forced to dress down to one layer and well, though it was never a pretty sight, with 50 less than a month a way, dressing down to the birthday suit is just not an option. I pity the man that sees me birthday suit!
So here I sit sweltering in heat not fit for a constitution as delicate as mine. What, pray tell, might we be in store for Wisconsin this summer? I saw a bumper sticker the other day that said; "Global Warming is Just a Hoax". Really? I wonder what level of intellect agrees with such a notion. Better to have read "Global Warming, if You Can't Take The Heat So What" in this country in which the circle of life goes round and round a barrel of oil.
Speaking of oil, is anyone else completely undone by the likely permanent damage to our gulf shores that the BP oil leak is causing? I say everyone stop buying gas from BP. Just imagine if all Americans everywhere refused to fill up their tanks at British Petroleum. Think they might get the message then? I know I am committed to the ban. Convenient as their many gas stations are, I am waiting until I can get over to MotoMart or any other not-off-shore drilling gas provider before I fill er up. For being such a strong nation we sure have become the nation of reactive responses. For it is only in the pro-active strength that we draw our might and in the reactive strength that we lose the fight.
On that note, I end this post dedicated in part to the faithful readership of my much loved sister-in-law Linda. When my baby brother Andy first introduced us to Linda it was the summer of 1999 during a (family) gathering at my home. I remember thinking; "wow!" "Don't mess this one up baby bro" cause she was not only candy to the eye, but sweetness to the soul as well. A worthy mix not often found in combination.
So to you Linda I say "thank you" not only for what you are to my brother, but also for being the much loved sister that you are to me.
I mean "hello Mother Nature could you take it down a notch?" Either nature has reached naturopause which is much like the human season of menopause, but with farther reaching implications, or the earth has truly spun off its axis and into hell. Fire burning hell.
While I try to roll with the weather and take what comes this 90+ weather in the merry month of May has me anything but merry. Truth be told, I am not much for the ice dance of winter, but I am at least able to defend my comfort zone. As you may recall in an earlier post I indicated my pleasure in layering. Layering of clothes that is. Well in the chill of winter I have been known to layer my way to four levels of clothing. As long as the clothes are properly layered - starting with the thinnest and working my way to the big bulky sweater on top - the 4-level layer is really quite doable.
On the other hand, in the heat of a spring fever such as we have right now, I am forced to dress down to one layer and well, though it was never a pretty sight, with 50 less than a month a way, dressing down to the birthday suit is just not an option. I pity the man that sees me birthday suit!
So here I sit sweltering in heat not fit for a constitution as delicate as mine. What, pray tell, might we be in store for Wisconsin this summer? I saw a bumper sticker the other day that said; "Global Warming is Just a Hoax". Really? I wonder what level of intellect agrees with such a notion. Better to have read "Global Warming, if You Can't Take The Heat So What" in this country in which the circle of life goes round and round a barrel of oil.
Speaking of oil, is anyone else completely undone by the likely permanent damage to our gulf shores that the BP oil leak is causing? I say everyone stop buying gas from BP. Just imagine if all Americans everywhere refused to fill up their tanks at British Petroleum. Think they might get the message then? I know I am committed to the ban. Convenient as their many gas stations are, I am waiting until I can get over to MotoMart or any other not-off-shore drilling gas provider before I fill er up. For being such a strong nation we sure have become the nation of reactive responses. For it is only in the pro-active strength that we draw our might and in the reactive strength that we lose the fight.
On that note, I end this post dedicated in part to the faithful readership of my much loved sister-in-law Linda. When my baby brother Andy first introduced us to Linda it was the summer of 1999 during a (family) gathering at my home. I remember thinking; "wow!" "Don't mess this one up baby bro" cause she was not only candy to the eye, but sweetness to the soul as well. A worthy mix not often found in combination.
So to you Linda I say "thank you" not only for what you are to my brother, but also for being the much loved sister that you are to me.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Spirit Orb
Okay if you are one of those skeptics who think spirit orbs are a figment of a wayward imagination take my advice and simply skip reading this post. No, I take that back, if you are a skeptic maybe it will enlighten you on the subject & open you to the possibility. Or, if nothing else, maybe the whole idea will itself offer you a dose of humor to lighten your day.
Last fall Mike & I drove up to Door County for a weekend getaway. We love to visit the peninsula and for me personally I feel a deep connection as this is the area that my father's ancestors settled in when they arrived in America from Belgium.
So on our weekend getaway as the day grew weary and the sun sank lower into the horizon we found ourselves driving down a long rough road that, at the entrance, had promised a "scenic view". We had not before on our many trips to the peninsula encountered this particular road, definitely off the beaten path, and our curiosity nudged us forward.
As we traversed this road it became more & more tedious to pass and I started feeling a sense of foreboding, of impending danger. I expressed my anxiety & Mike pointed out that we could at this point only go forward as there was no sure way to turn around without getting stuck and so we forged ahead.
Suddenly the road opened to a clearing. The road circled here allowing for a way to turn around and head out. Mike stopped the car, against my protests as my sense of fear/anxiety had only increased as we entered the clearing. I truly felt a threatening presence.
Mike convinced me to get out of the car and follow him to the edge of the clearing where the view truly was scenic and so I relented.
Even gazing upon the magnificent landscape I could feel the hairs on my arms rising and there was a chill in the air not born of the season.
I started back towards the van and begged Mike to follow me. I told him we needed to leave NOW. He insisted on taking my picture before we went.
After which we got back into the van and to my relief we headed back to the main road. As we drove away the feeling of foreboding started to subside and I started to feel a little silly for such unwarranted fears amidst such natural beauty.
Until I looked at the picture in the camera. There it was, clear as light itself. A spirit orb between the photographer and the photographed. I have encountered spirit
orbs before in places like Crown King, Arizona - an abandoned mining (ghost) town.
The question that keeps coming back to me is this; what is this orb from? Is it the spirit orb of a long passed Native American? Is it the orb of a victim of a crime? Might there be human remains somewhere in this clearing? This clearing that gave me such a feeling of terror. I have always been very intuitive and I can't help but wonder if another visit down this road might be necessary.
Nudging me still, I keep coming back to this photo.
Here I feel a sense of unfinished business. A responsibility passed to me where it sits idling in restless anticipation.
Last fall Mike & I drove up to Door County for a weekend getaway. We love to visit the peninsula and for me personally I feel a deep connection as this is the area that my father's ancestors settled in when they arrived in America from Belgium.
So on our weekend getaway as the day grew weary and the sun sank lower into the horizon we found ourselves driving down a long rough road that, at the entrance, had promised a "scenic view". We had not before on our many trips to the peninsula encountered this particular road, definitely off the beaten path, and our curiosity nudged us forward.
As we traversed this road it became more & more tedious to pass and I started feeling a sense of foreboding, of impending danger. I expressed my anxiety & Mike pointed out that we could at this point only go forward as there was no sure way to turn around without getting stuck and so we forged ahead.
Suddenly the road opened to a clearing. The road circled here allowing for a way to turn around and head out. Mike stopped the car, against my protests as my sense of fear/anxiety had only increased as we entered the clearing. I truly felt a threatening presence.
Mike convinced me to get out of the car and follow him to the edge of the clearing where the view truly was scenic and so I relented.
Even gazing upon the magnificent landscape I could feel the hairs on my arms rising and there was a chill in the air not born of the season.
I started back towards the van and begged Mike to follow me. I told him we needed to leave NOW. He insisted on taking my picture before we went.
After which we got back into the van and to my relief we headed back to the main road. As we drove away the feeling of foreboding started to subside and I started to feel a little silly for such unwarranted fears amidst such natural beauty.
Until I looked at the picture in the camera. There it was, clear as light itself. A spirit orb between the photographer and the photographed. I have encountered spirit
orbs before in places like Crown King, Arizona - an abandoned mining (ghost) town.The question that keeps coming back to me is this; what is this orb from? Is it the spirit orb of a long passed Native American? Is it the orb of a victim of a crime? Might there be human remains somewhere in this clearing? This clearing that gave me such a feeling of terror. I have always been very intuitive and I can't help but wonder if another visit down this road might be necessary.
Nudging me still, I keep coming back to this photo.
Here I feel a sense of unfinished business. A responsibility passed to me where it sits idling in restless anticipation.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Attractively Dark
Someone once told me that I was very dark in an "attractive" way. If one ponders this sort of statement for a moment it becomes apparent why certain moods have a way of "slipping in under the radar" and disrupting my (usually) sunny disposition.
Must be an inherited trait as we never knew what to expect from my dad. He could go to bed with a twinkle in his eye and wake up with a dead-stare-sigh. None of which, I imagine, had anything to do with 10 pair of eyes staring up to him in constant need of his support.
So what is it that turns my mood from sunny delight to a twisted sister in the middle of the night? Possibly there is that old chemical imbalance we hear about from the head-banging specialists. Maybe it is the way an individual reacts to the ebb & flow of life. How well does the psyche handle unexpected change. How well do I emotionally accept that which I cannot control?
I kid around often about my OCD tendencies. Kind of a work place joke I cannot function at the top of my game without every little thing around me in some semblance of order. Neat freak or the alter-ego control freak?
So long abouts Wednesday of this week I was feeling low low low. Maybe I was also coming down from the opium high I experienced with a Monday back procedure. My sister, Elly, is a nurse & she emphatically swears that I am the only patient she knows of that still gets the opium lollypop for medical procedures. Given that when needles are directed at me I lose all consciousness, tend to have no pulse or blood pressure & become a soaking wet sweaty mess of (barely) living tissue; it stands to reason that before an epidural (do you know those needles are like 12 inches long??) before an epidural the good people in charge would find for me the ultimate distraction. How can something that feels so good be so bad? I mean literally I walk around for days after the procedure with what I call my "opium eyes" or what are more commonly referred to as "raccoon eyes" Really though, if one small dose of Fentanyl (200mcg oral) can do this to me, I shudder at what is happening to opium aka heroin addicts around the world. YIKES!
So maybe my dark descent was truly medicinal in nature, but given the fact that the darkness has been a continual loop since long before my first epidural, I have to ponder the question why. Why do I vacillate between girl of much humor to woman of deep pain? Johnny K once called me a bleeding heart. He doesn't know the half of it. Feeling is highly over-rated. Especially when the feeling is less than comforting and all too sharp in its (painful) intensity.
But thank you godson, Calvin, for your early morning email questioning as to why my blogging has taken a hiatus. That sort of "wake up call" is most helpful to the attractively dark - the occasional "what up" from a loved one. Especially a loved one that is more like me than he might at this point in his life care to believe. I am honored to be his godmother & bless the day he was born.
A quick self assessment of my darkened state and I am ready to let in the light once again.
Onward & upward....make it a great day, I know I am going to try!
Shalom; peace be with you, my peace I give to you.
Must be an inherited trait as we never knew what to expect from my dad. He could go to bed with a twinkle in his eye and wake up with a dead-stare-sigh. None of which, I imagine, had anything to do with 10 pair of eyes staring up to him in constant need of his support.
So what is it that turns my mood from sunny delight to a twisted sister in the middle of the night? Possibly there is that old chemical imbalance we hear about from the head-banging specialists. Maybe it is the way an individual reacts to the ebb & flow of life. How well does the psyche handle unexpected change. How well do I emotionally accept that which I cannot control?
I kid around often about my OCD tendencies. Kind of a work place joke I cannot function at the top of my game without every little thing around me in some semblance of order. Neat freak or the alter-ego control freak?
So long abouts Wednesday of this week I was feeling low low low. Maybe I was also coming down from the opium high I experienced with a Monday back procedure. My sister, Elly, is a nurse & she emphatically swears that I am the only patient she knows of that still gets the opium lollypop for medical procedures. Given that when needles are directed at me I lose all consciousness, tend to have no pulse or blood pressure & become a soaking wet sweaty mess of (barely) living tissue; it stands to reason that before an epidural (do you know those needles are like 12 inches long??) before an epidural the good people in charge would find for me the ultimate distraction. How can something that feels so good be so bad? I mean literally I walk around for days after the procedure with what I call my "opium eyes" or what are more commonly referred to as "raccoon eyes" Really though, if one small dose of Fentanyl (200mcg oral) can do this to me, I shudder at what is happening to opium aka heroin addicts around the world. YIKES!
So maybe my dark descent was truly medicinal in nature, but given the fact that the darkness has been a continual loop since long before my first epidural, I have to ponder the question why. Why do I vacillate between girl of much humor to woman of deep pain? Johnny K once called me a bleeding heart. He doesn't know the half of it. Feeling is highly over-rated. Especially when the feeling is less than comforting and all too sharp in its (painful) intensity.
But thank you godson, Calvin, for your early morning email questioning as to why my blogging has taken a hiatus. That sort of "wake up call" is most helpful to the attractively dark - the occasional "what up" from a loved one. Especially a loved one that is more like me than he might at this point in his life care to believe. I am honored to be his godmother & bless the day he was born.
A quick self assessment of my darkened state and I am ready to let in the light once again.
Onward & upward....make it a great day, I know I am going to try!
Shalom; peace be with you, my peace I give to you.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
James & Cassandra 05-01-10
Long may they love!
Today we have gained a daughter!
May 1st, 2010
James Justice & Cassandra Lynne Erickson
Surprising us all, James & Cassie were married yesterday. They had planned to marry later this year, but decided on a quiet May ceremony. We can't wait to celebrate at their reception in June!
James brings to our family a new daughter and we are pleased to welcome this newest member of our tribe to the fold.
We once were a family of four
The number is four no more
As our numbers increase
In harmony & peace
Weaving our family-folklore
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