Ramblings on a Free Friday

Sitting upstairs in my beautiful bedroom, the sun slowly coming up and my view is amazing:  Mountains preceded by red tile roofs, framed with the tops of trees. 




 I'm feeling extremely grateful for this day. And yes, I have the day off from my day job.  I will be helping my daughter move into her long awaited for new home that she can call her own.




 Peaceful and tranquil, and suddenly one of my beloved dogs hops on the bed and demands my attention by literally getting in my face with his big, sad-ish looking blue eyes, placing his huge paws on my computer and begging for touch.  This is the one who had been neglected the first year and a half of his life. His persistent attempts to be touched or played with (He CONSTANTLY brings his ball or rope toy and drops it in front of me so I will play with him.)is so annoying, but I understand and love him to the moon and back! 


So, where was I? Ah yes, the view.  It's almost totally light now and I will soon be getting ready to meet my daughter at the gym where she trains, do her weights class and then head out for some serious, enjoyable work. But still I ramble.  What I really wanted to do was write about how terribly difficult it is to stay in keeping with my life intention: that is to be grateful for all things, to see the good in all and to thank God for this beautiful world. And I AM grateful, and I DO see the good in all and I certainly do thank God for this beautiful world.  But when it gets right down to it....we live in an imperfect world, and anyone who cannot see that, I question their sanity.  Or, if it IS perfect....the perfection is hiding in the greyness of....what??? Pollution?  Okay, pollution.


I was brought up by a Catholic mother,

 and Jewish father.


(of course these are pics of them in their youth, but what great pics they are!)


I believe I have mentioned that more than several times.  And, I was brought up by a conservative (not in his younger days) father, and a liberal (not in her younger days) mother.  Both of my parents were very intelligent, and both obviously impressed me to think for myself, to look at all sides and then make my decision.  I am grateful to have had the parents that I had, I miss them very much, and I often wish they were here so that I could throw around controversial subjects to hear their view on them.  But they're not.


Okay, rambling yet again.  I guess what I want to say is that I truly want to be a positive thinker like Joel Olstien, or Louise Hay, but I see too, at times, to be more like what Mark Twain calls "an optimist who hasn't arrived yet." Unfortunately, to be ruthlessly honest, I blame others for my inadequacies. (Be careful with your judging here...I"m being open and stupidly honest).  So tell me how to keep my upbeat thought process when I'm around people who are always talking about the horrible injustices of the world, people who are angry and fearful that their "rights" are being taken away from them, and others who seem to always see the dark side of the cloud?


When I let myself get involved with the "world's" problems, I become one of the people to be blamed. Catch 22.  So there ya have it.  Again, no answers today, in the meantime, I'll celebrate my daughter's new joy with.....well.......a good sugar-free coke. (another intentional choice...to stick with my gym's New Year's Challenge and give up alcoholic beverages for 6 weeks....Oy Vey!!!!) Have a great, and joyful imperfect day!

My Baby Blue

I have to talk about my Milo....He is my blue eyed, red and white haired, Australian Shepherd.  Let me say this though,before I get started;  I have three dogs and I love my other two with all my heart.  My Milo though...he's different.  I mean they're all different, like having kids, you love them all, but in different ways.  And comparisons are really foolish when you talk about the love of your dogs.  But this is about Milo!

I saw his sweet, innocent, eager face on Facebook.



 I had been looking for a  third dog, but not  actively. When I saw his face, I had to find out more.  His large blue eyes, spoke volumes to me, and the expression on his face was almost confusing and begging for love.  He was adoptable, good with kids and other dogs; well, that was all I had to read. I think it was the next day we drove across the city, about a half hour to where his foster home was.  Turns out he was about 18 months old and his first 17 months were spent in a four by six foot pen, alone, with no real human contact. Apparently, some guy bought him from a breeder and it turned out he traveled a lot so he left Milo with his mother.  His mother was "allergic" to dogs, so she basically pushed food into his small pen.

Milo wasn't his name.  It was Patches.  Patches.  I don't think so.  I knew from the minute I met him he certainly was not a "Patches".  Even now, as I sit here typing, and he goes in and out of the dog door, or as he lies on the floor by my chair, I look at him and know that Milo was his name and should have been his name from the start.

Anyway, his transition was really fairly smooth.  He was great with Tasha and Lexy, our other family dogs. Tasha was very curious and happy he was here and Lexy, the old alpha dog, had been through four other dogs in our household, so she took it all in stride. I honestly can't remember much about his first few days in his new home.  I think that Tasha had some sort of special language that she used when she communicated to him, and told him everything was cool in this house, to hang out, and enjoy his new home. Yep, I do think that was her message to him.




 Because that's what he did.  He seem as comfortable as he could have been for a boy who had no real human contact for the first 17 months of his life.  His foster family, however, was awesome.  They nursed him through the trauma of losing his testicles, and made him comfortable in his own fur by combing out all of the mats.  They also provided a happy, safe place with lots of hands on love and affection.

Still, as with humans, those early days of life are vital, and form us in so many ways.  Milo can't get enough physical contact, and he loves being stroked, hugged and loved on.  Like a typical Aussie, he gets a huge amount of joy from leaping up in the air to catch a tennis ball.



When it comes to food, he can't get enough.  That's  a little disturbing. The owner of our gym said that her dog would eat until he blew himself up. That's Milo...I think he would as well. Fortunately I have a great life partner, my husband, who takes him and his 'siblings' on a hike each morning, on the mountain across from our home. He LOVES that!!  






Milo is extremely intelligent. They say Aussies have about the same intelligence as a five year old human.  I believe it, Milo has proved it.  He is my boy, there is a bond.  I feel guilty that I have to go to work and leave him. Even though he has two others his same kind; dogs. I feel guilty when I leave and don't take him, but I have to remind myself that it could have been worse for him. It doesn't keep me from thinking that he would be much happier with a younger family, with kids who can play with his young, curious self.



Okay, well, it's a Friday night, and my boy is lying next to me, asleep.  He is beautiful, and I am fortunate.  My companion, my boy, my faithful friend, Milo, is a treasure to me.  I am happy to be his!

Grateful Me

So, it's been a while since I've written.  Firstly, I want to say that I probably have had the best Christmas that I've ever had!  And yes, it is because we finally finished our room addition, and yes it is because my daughter and my son in law have finally bought a most magnificent home, (and yes, near us!) and yes, because my son found a lovely lady to love him, and marry him.  (And of course she found a most excellent man, my son, to love her and cherish her; at least he better! ;-)  )


But it's a new year with a future ahead of us all.  I believe there is much in store for us and I want to make sure I'm aware and intentional about knowing how rich I really am.  A friend of mine on Facebook told me about a book she is reading, and highly suggested it to me.


 It's called "The Magic",  by Rhonda Byrne.  Her perspective on life is refreshing and in my case, life changing.  She talks about the wonders of youth where anything is possible, life is endless,  Santa Claus is real, miracles happen, true love is genuinely authentic, and life is good! With her words, she takes you back to those young, childhood memories. If you're really open, and you're really looking, those memories will stir something deep within your being that you thought was lost eons ago. 

" Truly I tell you, unless you turn and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven."  Jesus


Actually for me, I'm a die hard idealist who remembers all the enchantments I used to feel when I sat under my grandparents overgrown shrubbery. It felt like a perfect world where no one, or nothing could damage my fantasy of castles, princes and princesses, and a world so appealing, you never wanted to leave. I imagine C.S. Lewis had such a world in mind when he wrote about Narnia.  



For me, it wasn't a wardrobe that took me there, it was my grandparents Spirea.  It grew about four feet upwards and then it's limbs spilled over to the ground and left a cozy, charming space between the trunk of the bush and the limbs that touched the ground. Most of the time it was decorated with tiny, delicate, white flowers that looked like lace.   There, I climbed under it's protective covering and sat for hours, thinking, pretending and enjoying the summer's day.  



Yep, I remember that well.  

Of course I couldn't stay.  At that age,  I wasn't able to put my feelings or thoughts into words.  But if they could have been, I would have said that I didn't want to leave, and why couldn't the world stay like my imagined world.  Now, as an adult I have to ponder the question; "Was it really imagined??? Is it really imagined?" 


"I am here to tell you that the magic you once believed in is true, and it's the disillusioned adult perspective of life that is false.  The magic of life is real - and it's as real as you are.  In fact, life can be far more wondrous than you ever thought it was as a child, and more breathtaking, awe-inspiring, and exciting than anything you've seen before." (Rhonda Byrne...)

I won't even begin to tell you my whole story, but let me say this; one of the reasons I sought out my grandparents' backyard sanctuary was because my everyday life was not exactly my aspiration of the most ideal way to live.  It wasn't bad, and don't get me wrong, I am thankful for my upbringing, but there was always a subtle modulated communique, that spoke of doubt, cynicism and sadness and sickness.



So, to read those thoughts that Rhonda Byrnes spoke of in her book...WOW! And to actually be willing to believe those words, receive those words; maybe????  

Here's the short version of my story; At one point in my life when I found my faith after losing it for years, I was taught that we are not to go by our feelings, that our feelings deceive us, we need  to be practical etc etc etc..blah blah blah.  You catch my drift!!! So trying to be the best person I could be, I interpreted that to mean that my self was not trust worthy.  I became someone hard, self righteous, and fake. But I did it with good intentions of pleasing God and others.  I don't think I pleased God, myself or anyone else for that matter. Actually the reverse happened. However, thanks to God's wonderful grace and mercy, I was able to change.  I had to go through a whole lot of pain to get rid of the fake self and find who I truly was.  I am thankful for the pain that I went through, for the hell that I went through, for all that happened. (I really did try to keep it short!)


"That's the thing with magic.  You've got to know it's still here, all around us, or it just stays invisible for you."  charles de lint - writer anc celtic folk musician

Now, my life has been getting better and better.  Thank God! This book is teaching me even more about the mystery of life abundantly.  The book, as I've already said, is called,  "The Magic".  The Merriam-Webster definition of magic is "power that allows people to do impossible things by saying special words and performing special actions."  The magic she is talking about is gratitude.  Not just saying thank you, but saying thank you all the time for specific things, at specific times, and as she said "saturating yourself in gratitude." Feeling the gratitude in every fiber of your being is the goal.  



"When I started counting my blessings, my whole life changed." willie nelson


When I was about 8 or so, my father called me downstairs to watch a video of WW2 concentration camp survivors. He told me those were my ancestors. It was actual footage of the 'prisoners' being released from hellish, abusive prisons. Tiny men and women who were just a skeleton of their former selves.  The vision put an imprint on my soul that never went away. 




 I remember taking baths after that, and thinking about those survivors, thinking about all the things they had to go through. At my young age I soaked in my tub and felt extremely  rich and grateful for the clean, warm water, the big white tub, and of course the perfumed, bubbly,soap.



That was probably the beginning of my appreciation of all that I had. 

In Rhonda Byrne's book, you can choose to take the journey each day by doing certain exercises. The first one, which is repeated for 28 days, is keeping a journal of all you are grateful for and why.  Each day you log ten things you're thankful for and why you are thankful. 

"It is quite possible to leave your home for a walk in the early morning air and return a different person - beguiled, enchanted" mary ellen chase, educator and writer 1887-1973


 After you finish writing them, you read them aloud (or in your head) and say, "thank you, thank you, thank you". By the end of the 28 days, you have 336 things you are grateful for.  Because you say them every night before you go to bed, you wake up feeling wonderfully prosperous.  

Why do you think scripture is filled with giving thanks?  It certainly isn't because God is a narcissist. I believe it's because God set up certain ways our world, our universe works.  If one is grateful for what one has, however small, then much will be given to that person. If one complains, criticizes, and is constantly finding fault, I believe even what that person has is taken away... not by God, but by their lack of appreciation.

Okay, so I'm finished.  This is my fourth day and it's been a wonderful four days. I am thankful to Rhonda Byrne for writing this book!!! I will keep you posted!