Star Wars Episode III is quite possibly...no, I'll say...it IS the most highly anticipated film in history. Can you think of another that even comes close?? Star Wars reaches across generational, financial, international, racial and social boundaries with one purpose: to entertain. I for one think this is something George Lucas does extremely well with all of his films. I hear those critics who loudly complain that Lucas ruined the Star Wars legacy with the first two prequels -- those extremely obsessed, so-called fans that over-analyze the exact words and sentence structure of the dialogue -- those who simply live to find holes in the plots. Although I appreciate their enthusiasm, let's not make it more then it is. These movies are intended to be entertaining and to stylistically follow in the footsteps of not only classic early films but in the legacy of world mythology. Say what you will about these films, but we must remember that this is one man's art -- his creative dream -- and we are ever so lucky that he has shared it with generations of us.
I am taking off work tomorrow to see this movie. I love the Star Wars world and think that VH1 "Best Week Ever" got it right -- Star Wars is like pizza...even if its really bad...hey! Its still pizza & who doesn't like pizza?". That made me smile -- so simple, yet true. I will love this movie no matter what. Heck, I "saw" the first one in 1977 in-utero -- I kind of have an obligation to be there! :)
I am simply not looking forward to the barrage of criticism that I know I will hear first thing in the morning from those who call themselves "fans" yet set to rip the movie to shreds because it did not meet their expectations. You know what? It isn't supposed to meet their expectations -- the only expectations that must be met are those of its creator. You don't like it? Write your own screenplay -- create your own universe and legacy. That is the brilliance of it all-- we all have within us the ability to create something grand...yet we would rather pick apart someone else's work then spend the time and energy required to make our own. Yes, everyone has their own tastes and opinions -- that is what makes us unique. But when some one puts their creative life's work out there for the world to see there is a certain amount of respect merited. Sure, Lucas is making more money off this then I will ever know...sure it is mass marketing at it best/worst...but that is not where this dream started for him. It started as just that...a dream...and I have the utmost admiration and respect for anyone who believes in their dream that much. Think about that as you sit in your cubicle or on your couch and read the reviews of this movie. Save the criticism and ask yourself: what am I doing to make MY dream a reality? Until you have risked it all to see something through as George Lucas has...don't condemn his art.
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
Quote of the day
One of the illusions of life is that the present hour is not the critical, decisive hour.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
-Ralph Waldo Emerson
Tuesday, April 26, 2005
She is Old
She is Old.
I am Young.
Her face is etched with lines;
Mine is soft & smooth.
Her hands are worked & worn;
Mine are kept & tender.
She has given the gift of life and
endured the loss that is death;
I have not yet imagined how these
things will touch my soul.
I am a manifestation of promise & future;
She is a testament to endurance & strength.
My hair is thick & shiny;
Hers is thin & flecked with grey.
I am Young.
She is Old.
And we will always be this way.
Until I am old and she is gone.
I am Young.
Her face is etched with lines;
Mine is soft & smooth.
Her hands are worked & worn;
Mine are kept & tender.
She has given the gift of life and
endured the loss that is death;
I have not yet imagined how these
things will touch my soul.
I am a manifestation of promise & future;
She is a testament to endurance & strength.
My hair is thick & shiny;
Hers is thin & flecked with grey.
I am Young.
She is Old.
And we will always be this way.
Until I am old and she is gone.
Friday, April 15, 2005
Desperation
At 8:00 every morning my cat would sell his soul to the devil himself for ½ a cup of cat food. Although he is a waif-ish 25 pounds, he is the personification of desperation when it comes to food. This drama ensues again each night at promptly 8:00 pm. The act consists of several elements: hurling himself against the pantry door, meowing & purring obnoxiously, ramming in to our legs while we try to cook, walking along the kitchen counter and bouncing his head off our hands, or any combination there of. Oh don’t worry, he is perfectly healthy and safe if not completely and totally spoiled...but I marvel at the desperation he exhibits twice daily like clockwork.
The fact that he is ALWAYS fed and is significantly overweight does nothing to diminish is obsession with more. We laugh at him a lot (because face it, a 25-pound cat is always funny), but isn’t it the same with us? Do we not completely forget that we are always taken care of? Are we not desperate for things in our lives we think will fulfill us? Our list of “if only...then” seems endless...
If only...I made more money...I’d have more time to do what I love...
If only...I had finished school...I could do more with my life...
If only...he/she loved me...my life would be complete...
If only...I could lose weight...then I would wear a pretty dress...
If only...we could move to another town...we’d be more involved in the community...
If only...I could buy those shoes, that purse & that ice cream...I’d fell better, at least for today...
We spend a life time of minutes waiting for something to happen without ever realizing that this IS it. This IS life. It is cliché to say that you never get this time back, but you know what? You don’t get this time back. The minute you have just spent reading about my cat? Gone. Hope it was worth it.
The fact that he is ALWAYS fed and is significantly overweight does nothing to diminish is obsession with more. We laugh at him a lot (because face it, a 25-pound cat is always funny), but isn’t it the same with us? Do we not completely forget that we are always taken care of? Are we not desperate for things in our lives we think will fulfill us? Our list of “if only...then” seems endless...
If only...I made more money...I’d have more time to do what I love...
If only...I had finished school...I could do more with my life...
If only...he/she loved me...my life would be complete...
If only...I could lose weight...then I would wear a pretty dress...
If only...we could move to another town...we’d be more involved in the community...
If only...I could buy those shoes, that purse & that ice cream...I’d fell better, at least for today...
We spend a life time of minutes waiting for something to happen without ever realizing that this IS it. This IS life. It is cliché to say that you never get this time back, but you know what? You don’t get this time back. The minute you have just spent reading about my cat? Gone. Hope it was worth it.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
Landscape
This is one of my favorite poems by Mary Oliver -- thought I'd share it here today.
Landscape
by Mary Oliver
Isn't it plain the sheets of moss, except that
they have no tongues, could lecture
all day if they wanted about
spiritual patience? Isn't it clear
the black oaks along the path are standing
as though they were the most fragile of flowers?
Every morning I walk like this around
the pond, thinking: if the doors of my heart
ever close, I am as good as dead.
Every morning, so far, I'm alive. And now
the crows break off from the rest of the darkness
and burst up into the sky -- as though
all night they had thought of what they would like
their lives to be, and imagined
their strong, thick wings.
Landscape
by Mary Oliver
Isn't it plain the sheets of moss, except that
they have no tongues, could lecture
all day if they wanted about
spiritual patience? Isn't it clear
the black oaks along the path are standing
as though they were the most fragile of flowers?
Every morning I walk like this around
the pond, thinking: if the doors of my heart
ever close, I am as good as dead.
Every morning, so far, I'm alive. And now
the crows break off from the rest of the darkness
and burst up into the sky -- as though
all night they had thought of what they would like
their lives to be, and imagined
their strong, thick wings.
Wednesday, April 13, 2005
A Loss For Words
I read an article recently that talked about how many words of the English language we lose each year because thay are no longer used. That may not seem significant in the days of Instant Messenger and Text Messaging, but I beg to differ.
My favorite tool in Microsoft Word is the thesaurus. First of all, I love that word..."thesaurus". It conjures up a mental picture of a gi-normous creature made up of syllables, constantans, adverbs, nouns, vowels, and adjectives. Something like you would see on School House Rock in the 70's & 80's. I can just picture the cartoon, can't you?! A big, friendly brontosaurs with happy eyes and a welcoming smile. Not a silly creature, no, but a cultured and content beast...quietly waiting to share his treasure of wisdom with those who will still take the time to listen. Yes, the thesaurus is a magnificent tool...always there to provide precisely the perfect word for the moment.
In essence, words are all we have...and the fewer we have of them, the less effectively we can communicate with each other. I enjoy big words and I love long, elaborate sentences. Perhaps that is a testament to the authors I love...Wordsworth, Thoreau, Hemmingway, Herrick, Shakespeare, Donne, Yeats, Fitzgerald, etc. I have always loved to write and to write grand. But somewhere along the way, the evil establishment that is "they" told me that I should not write this way. "They", who profess to love the language and its fruits, said that I should not use substantial words and luxurious sentences...I was told I needed to communicate as if my only audience was a batch of derelict 8th graders. But why? Why should I dumb-down my writing and my expression of myself...after all, I was only trying to be as accurate as possible?? "They", of course, had no suitable answer for me, but were more then happy to take points off my compositions to demonstrate their facile dominance. Unfortunately, last I heard, "they" are still at large, squelching a whole new generation of potential poets.
I can not believe how little children today read! (warning: I've hiked up my skirt to step gracefully up on to one of my favorite soapboxes) Our schools today have cut out virtually all worthwhile literature for fear that it will offend someone or talk about a subject not "appropriate" for children. This is wrong in every sense of the word and each and every teacher I know feels the same. Huckleberry Finn...yes, I am afraid they did use the word "nigger" and you know what? So did most of this country! No, that doesn't make it right, but it is still a part of our history. Just because a topic is uncomfortable does not mean we should not let our children know about it. And Harry Potter? So many schools have not allowed teachers to use these amazing stories as part of their curriculum. Why? Witches & Wizards are not "appropriate for school". Forget that these books are beautiful creations that most kids are reading anyway and look at the fact that almost every Fairy Tale in our collective mythology has a witch or wizard in it. All of these stories are tools to teach values, history, & moral lessons and it is an outrage that children are not reading these remarkable works of art. No, not every child will like these -- heck, I have read "classics" that I did not like. A Separate Peace? Hated it. But I am glad I read it because it is a classic piece of literature.
Stop kids from reading and let them to continue to defile their intellect with computer games and television and we will administer the fatal blow to the English language as we know it. Who knows...we may all soon be required to write on a 5th grade level.
My favorite tool in Microsoft Word is the thesaurus. First of all, I love that word..."thesaurus". It conjures up a mental picture of a gi-normous creature made up of syllables, constantans, adverbs, nouns, vowels, and adjectives. Something like you would see on School House Rock in the 70's & 80's. I can just picture the cartoon, can't you?! A big, friendly brontosaurs with happy eyes and a welcoming smile. Not a silly creature, no, but a cultured and content beast...quietly waiting to share his treasure of wisdom with those who will still take the time to listen. Yes, the thesaurus is a magnificent tool...always there to provide precisely the perfect word for the moment.
In essence, words are all we have...and the fewer we have of them, the less effectively we can communicate with each other. I enjoy big words and I love long, elaborate sentences. Perhaps that is a testament to the authors I love...Wordsworth, Thoreau, Hemmingway, Herrick, Shakespeare, Donne, Yeats, Fitzgerald, etc. I have always loved to write and to write grand. But somewhere along the way, the evil establishment that is "they" told me that I should not write this way. "They", who profess to love the language and its fruits, said that I should not use substantial words and luxurious sentences...I was told I needed to communicate as if my only audience was a batch of derelict 8th graders. But why? Why should I dumb-down my writing and my expression of myself...after all, I was only trying to be as accurate as possible?? "They", of course, had no suitable answer for me, but were more then happy to take points off my compositions to demonstrate their facile dominance. Unfortunately, last I heard, "they" are still at large, squelching a whole new generation of potential poets.
I can not believe how little children today read! (warning: I've hiked up my skirt to step gracefully up on to one of my favorite soapboxes) Our schools today have cut out virtually all worthwhile literature for fear that it will offend someone or talk about a subject not "appropriate" for children. This is wrong in every sense of the word and each and every teacher I know feels the same. Huckleberry Finn...yes, I am afraid they did use the word "nigger" and you know what? So did most of this country! No, that doesn't make it right, but it is still a part of our history. Just because a topic is uncomfortable does not mean we should not let our children know about it. And Harry Potter? So many schools have not allowed teachers to use these amazing stories as part of their curriculum. Why? Witches & Wizards are not "appropriate for school". Forget that these books are beautiful creations that most kids are reading anyway and look at the fact that almost every Fairy Tale in our collective mythology has a witch or wizard in it. All of these stories are tools to teach values, history, & moral lessons and it is an outrage that children are not reading these remarkable works of art. No, not every child will like these -- heck, I have read "classics" that I did not like. A Separate Peace? Hated it. But I am glad I read it because it is a classic piece of literature.
Stop kids from reading and let them to continue to defile their intellect with computer games and television and we will administer the fatal blow to the English language as we know it. Who knows...we may all soon be required to write on a 5th grade level.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
The Invitation
The Invitation
by Oriah Mountain Dreamer
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain! I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty even when it's not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.
by Oriah Mountain Dreamer
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain! I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it.
I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty even when it's not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, "Yes!"
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
I must be special
No, I am not being conceited...quite the contrary. I spend so much time telling myself what I need to change about myself and my life, that I never stop to notice the good things about me. Thank goodness I have friends who can help me out with that.
Today is my birthday...and honestly it started out pretty crappy and I was beginning to get a bit down about it. All the plans I had for the day were shot for one reason or another and it looked like it was going to turn in to one heck of a pity party (hey, at least there would be cake!). Then my mom called and sang "happy birthday"...then Kathy from work called and did the same...I unpacked my work bag and got out the cards from Brooke, Mary, Lori & Dorothy and read the sweet, heart-felt things they wrote...my Dad called & told me how glad he was that I was his daughter...I had lunch with Clay (which is always good)... my friend Audra, whose voice I have literally not heard for 10 years called...Shel and Shannon both sent me funny text messages...Clay's parents called...my oldest childhood friend, Aaron, emailed me...my next door neighbors decorated our front porch while we were at dinner...and my best girlfriend, Julie called. What a day!
Sounds like I am bragging, huh? I guess I am a little...but it is not because I think I am owed any of this...I'm bragging because I have amazing friends who have taken time out of their busy grown-up lives to remind me just how special I am. Isn't that what your birthday should be about!? :)
Today is my birthday...and honestly it started out pretty crappy and I was beginning to get a bit down about it. All the plans I had for the day were shot for one reason or another and it looked like it was going to turn in to one heck of a pity party (hey, at least there would be cake!). Then my mom called and sang "happy birthday"...then Kathy from work called and did the same...I unpacked my work bag and got out the cards from Brooke, Mary, Lori & Dorothy and read the sweet, heart-felt things they wrote...my Dad called & told me how glad he was that I was his daughter...I had lunch with Clay (which is always good)... my friend Audra, whose voice I have literally not heard for 10 years called...Shel and Shannon both sent me funny text messages...Clay's parents called...my oldest childhood friend, Aaron, emailed me...my next door neighbors decorated our front porch while we were at dinner...and my best girlfriend, Julie called. What a day!
Sounds like I am bragging, huh? I guess I am a little...but it is not because I think I am owed any of this...I'm bragging because I have amazing friends who have taken time out of their busy grown-up lives to remind me just how special I am. Isn't that what your birthday should be about!? :)
Sunday, March 06, 2005
Fear and Loathing in the Creative Mind
I won't pretend that I was a fan or even minutely knowledgeable about Hunter S. Thompson before his death 2 weeks ago. I was however, 1/2 way through Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas when the news of his suicide broke and the timing has inspired me to try & get to know the Good Doctor. In the past few weeks I have learned about yet another creative soul who inspired many to express themselves...and that should command the deepest respect and admiration from all of us. Regardless of your personal assessment of his work, life style, or choice of topics, you can not deny the unquenchable thirst for the creative experience that he thrived on and spread like a virus to others. A voice of blatant, raw, truth as he perceived it seems to be the vehicle through which this man hoped to influence his world. Did he succeed? Who knows. I won't pretend to understand what drove him in his art...but I can say he has inspired me and countless others to think past simply what is presented to us, blindly swallowing it as truth. This echoes harmoniously with one of my favorite writings by John Stuart Mill. In his essay "On Liberty" rails against society's squelching of the individual spirit and distaste for diversity in thought. Even in 1840 Mill warned against accepting the "collective mediocrity" presented by the media of the day (newspapers).
I now add Hunter S. Thompson to the growing list of people who inspire me to create. This list is a seemingly sporadic group of characters who at first glance have little in common. They are authors, musicians, poets, songwriters, philosophers, actors, and artists...with the common thread running between them they "got it". They seem to have understood something deeper then the rest of humanity allows themselves to acknowledge. Is the turbulent life led by many of them a side-effect of this? The frustration of living in a half-alive world? So many on this VERY incomplete list seem to have also met an untimely death...why is that?
...HST, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, John Stuart Mill, Yeats, Tennyson, John Denver, Jerry Garcia, SARK, Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Jim Henson, Colonel Depp, William Wordsworth, SRV, Jim Croce, John Donne, Mary Wollstoncraft, George Lucas, Hemingway, Dr. Seuss, C.S. Lewis, Jerry Jeff, Mike Yaconelli, Jimmy Buffett, Fitzgerald, Keith Richards, Kinky Freedman, Mama Cass, Etta James, Shakespeare, J.K. Rowling, REK, Bob Dylan, Robert Herrick, Mary Oliver, Shotgun Willie...
I could keep going and going with this list and spend days on how each individual as has added something to the collective experience that is my life. This random list of "name-vomit" is far from complete...and contains none of the "ordinary" people who fuel my creative soul. Yes, this list is neither comprehensive nor complete, and I hope it never will be. I hope I continue to meet new people through out my life who inspire me to push past the limits of where I am.
Here is to the Great Magnet.
I now add Hunter S. Thompson to the growing list of people who inspire me to create. This list is a seemingly sporadic group of characters who at first glance have little in common. They are authors, musicians, poets, songwriters, philosophers, actors, and artists...with the common thread running between them they "got it". They seem to have understood something deeper then the rest of humanity allows themselves to acknowledge. Is the turbulent life led by many of them a side-effect of this? The frustration of living in a half-alive world? So many on this VERY incomplete list seem to have also met an untimely death...why is that?
...HST, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, John Stuart Mill, Yeats, Tennyson, John Denver, Jerry Garcia, SARK, Clarissa Pinkola Estes, Jim Henson, Colonel Depp, William Wordsworth, SRV, Jim Croce, John Donne, Mary Wollstoncraft, George Lucas, Hemingway, Dr. Seuss, C.S. Lewis, Jerry Jeff, Mike Yaconelli, Jimmy Buffett, Fitzgerald, Keith Richards, Kinky Freedman, Mama Cass, Etta James, Shakespeare, J.K. Rowling, REK, Bob Dylan, Robert Herrick, Mary Oliver, Shotgun Willie...
I could keep going and going with this list and spend days on how each individual as has added something to the collective experience that is my life. This random list of "name-vomit" is far from complete...and contains none of the "ordinary" people who fuel my creative soul. Yes, this list is neither comprehensive nor complete, and I hope it never will be. I hope I continue to meet new people through out my life who inspire me to push past the limits of where I am.
Here is to the Great Magnet.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Happy Birthday Month!
My birthday is this month. The 16th to be exact. I love my birthday and celebrate it with selfish, lavish, child-like gusto every year...much to the dismay of my husband and to the delight of Citibank. Perhaps it is the result of being an only child...but I think it is the single most important day of the year.
For much of my childhood it was the only day on my calendar that had anything written on it...."oh the 16th? I am completely BOOKED! But any other day? Yeah, I am pretty much free". Now that my PDA manages my life for me and I have within reach not ONE...but THREE calendars at my desk, it takes a bit more planning to celebrate my birthday correctly. That is why I have officially extended the celebration to "Birthday Month". I guess it technically begins on March 1st...but really, it can start as early as February 15th and run right up until tax day in April.
Birthday Month includes a lot of things - there are presents, strawberry cake, dinners with friends, lunch with co-workers, a phone call from Mom at exactly 9:16AM on the blessed day...but really Birthday Month is all about that "free pass" we wish we had every other day of the year. A pass that allows you to forget about laundry and eat cake... to skip work, stay home & paint your toenails...to get a massage & a facial...not wear any make up (or lots!)...to wear flip-flops, your old prom dress, or a tiara...anything goes, as long as it makes you happy! Its not necessarily about being selfish...just about being YOU and celebrating the life you have had so far.
So HAPPY BIRTHDAY MONTH! Celebrate...even if you were born in September...here's your free pass.
For much of my childhood it was the only day on my calendar that had anything written on it...."oh the 16th? I am completely BOOKED! But any other day? Yeah, I am pretty much free". Now that my PDA manages my life for me and I have within reach not ONE...but THREE calendars at my desk, it takes a bit more planning to celebrate my birthday correctly. That is why I have officially extended the celebration to "Birthday Month". I guess it technically begins on March 1st...but really, it can start as early as February 15th and run right up until tax day in April.
Birthday Month includes a lot of things - there are presents, strawberry cake, dinners with friends, lunch with co-workers, a phone call from Mom at exactly 9:16AM on the blessed day...but really Birthday Month is all about that "free pass" we wish we had every other day of the year. A pass that allows you to forget about laundry and eat cake... to skip work, stay home & paint your toenails...to get a massage & a facial...not wear any make up (or lots!)...to wear flip-flops, your old prom dress, or a tiara...anything goes, as long as it makes you happy! Its not necessarily about being selfish...just about being YOU and celebrating the life you have had so far.
So HAPPY BIRTHDAY MONTH! Celebrate...even if you were born in September...here's your free pass.
Monday, February 28, 2005
Please Drink Responsibly
This is the slogan now touted by beer and liquor companies in every TV & print ad these days. I guess it is a feeble attempt to assuage their guilt for all the 13 year-olds they put in rehab. I especially like the one where they show a cap-full of vodka with an orange peel slice in it and advise to enjoy Smirnoff "neat". Do they really want you to drink less (which is what I assume is implied by "responsibly")? Probably not...because that would mean that you consume, and therefore buy, less of their product. And goodness knows they need the money...they do, after all, have to pay for all these goodwill ads. Please drink responsibly. Really. What is the point of that? Who really drinks with the intention to "drink responsibly"? Snobby wine-drinkers who prefer to swirl, smell, sip, & comment on the "subtle oakiness", "depth", or "light hints of peach" in a wine? No, they aren't drinking responsibly, they just want to look like they are...
Ever had a day that nothing but a few shots of tequila could soothe? Yeah, me too...and today was one of those days. A day when ANY diversion I could find was escape from reality... a suitable portal to another state of being...be it a piece of rich chocolate, a song that took me away, a stiff drink, or a good book (just finished "Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas"...more on that later). On a "healthy" day I might have escaped through meditation, yoga, a good Tennyson poem, or exercise...but today? It was me and Margaritaville (an excellent tequila...in case you are in the market for a good portal).
So please, say a little prayer for me today...and please, for the love of all that is good...drink responsibly.
Ever had a day that nothing but a few shots of tequila could soothe? Yeah, me too...and today was one of those days. A day when ANY diversion I could find was escape from reality... a suitable portal to another state of being...be it a piece of rich chocolate, a song that took me away, a stiff drink, or a good book (just finished "Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas"...more on that later). On a "healthy" day I might have escaped through meditation, yoga, a good Tennyson poem, or exercise...but today? It was me and Margaritaville (an excellent tequila...in case you are in the market for a good portal).
So please, say a little prayer for me today...and please, for the love of all that is good...drink responsibly.
Sunday, February 27, 2005
Do something productive!
I should really do something productive today...I'm always complaining that I don't have enough time to get things done...yet here I am with a few free hours and all of the things I have been putting off (glamorous things like doing the laundry, cleaning the cat box, and taking the trash out) just don't seem as pressing as they do on days when I have minimal free time. I should start on my presentation that is due Tuesday, I should work on sponsor fulfillment reports for work, I should create the flyer I promised Mom I'd get to her weeks ago.
...should...should...should...
That word will kill you, won't it? And in the end, does it REALLY matter?
We watched the movie, The Notebook, last night. I have read the book, so I already knew the story...and the movie delivered, as promised, a tear-jerking love story. I'll admit, there are times when I am a sucker for the schmaltz of a good chick-flick...last night was no exception. The movie not only made me appreciate the love I have in my life, but reminded me to appreciate life itself, because you just never know when it will end or how things are going to turn out. I know, I know, its an awfully deep discussion to start from a ooey-gooey summer-love movie...so I won't really go there...but its something to think about.
Wow, here I am back to debating whether or no I should do something "productive"...may be time to re-evaluate what "productive" means...?
...should...should...should...
That word will kill you, won't it? And in the end, does it REALLY matter?
We watched the movie, The Notebook, last night. I have read the book, so I already knew the story...and the movie delivered, as promised, a tear-jerking love story. I'll admit, there are times when I am a sucker for the schmaltz of a good chick-flick...last night was no exception. The movie not only made me appreciate the love I have in my life, but reminded me to appreciate life itself, because you just never know when it will end or how things are going to turn out. I know, I know, its an awfully deep discussion to start from a ooey-gooey summer-love movie...so I won't really go there...but its something to think about.
Wow, here I am back to debating whether or no I should do something "productive"...may be time to re-evaluate what "productive" means...?
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Space
No, not the final frontier...but "space" as is "Looking For Space", the title of my little corner of the e-world. Since I know only 2 people who are aware of my bolg have a prayer at knowing what the title means, I'll explain...I know the rest of you are dying to know. And even if you're not...well...you don't have to read on.
Let me start with a confession: Hello, my name is Sarah and I am a HUGE John Denver fan. (here is were the 2 of you are also in this club say "Hi Sarah"). No, I didn't grow up in the 60's and no, I don't smoke pot (but I would if it was legal!). I'm just an almost-thirty, tree-hugging, organic-food loving, sporadic yoga-practicing, wannabee hippie. Perhaps it was all the John Devner I heard in-utero and while growing up that has made this music such a part of the fabric of my life. I am fortunate to have found and married the only other under 30 John Denver fan, so I don't feel too out of place. Well, except at stop lights with the windows down belting out "Rocky Mountain High"...that will get you some odd looks from teenagers and some knowing smiles from the baby boomers.
"Looking For Space" is one of my favorite John Denver songs...and trust me, I have many favorites. It is a song about finding out who you are in this world -- through highs and lows - and accepting life as it comes to you. I find that this song meant something special to me in high school, had another unique meaning while I was in college, and means something entirely different then both today. I think I am not so much looking for my space now as I am creating and exploring the space I am in.
It is a great thing to be comfortable in your own shoes.
Let me start with a confession: Hello, my name is Sarah and I am a HUGE John Denver fan. (here is were the 2 of you are also in this club say "Hi Sarah"). No, I didn't grow up in the 60's and no, I don't smoke pot (but I would if it was legal!). I'm just an almost-thirty, tree-hugging, organic-food loving, sporadic yoga-practicing, wannabee hippie. Perhaps it was all the John Devner I heard in-utero and while growing up that has made this music such a part of the fabric of my life. I am fortunate to have found and married the only other under 30 John Denver fan, so I don't feel too out of place. Well, except at stop lights with the windows down belting out "Rocky Mountain High"...that will get you some odd looks from teenagers and some knowing smiles from the baby boomers.
"Looking For Space" is one of my favorite John Denver songs...and trust me, I have many favorites. It is a song about finding out who you are in this world -- through highs and lows - and accepting life as it comes to you. I find that this song meant something special to me in high school, had another unique meaning while I was in college, and means something entirely different then both today. I think I am not so much looking for my space now as I am creating and exploring the space I am in.
It is a great thing to be comfortable in your own shoes.
The World Is Too Much With Us
The World Is Too Much With Us – William Wordsworth (1806)
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
I first read this poem in college and it has since become one of my favorites. Even though it was written almost 200 years ago by a man who lived in a world nothing like my own, its words are so true and accurate. We spend so much of our life’s energy on things that are meaningless…things that bring us neither joy nor fulfillment.
Its funny to me that I tend to think of “way back when” as a simpler time & place…where the stresses of life were fewer…be it the 1960’s or the 1800’s…I just know it had to be better then this over stimulating, break-neck paced world. But reading Wordsworth’s writing I see he is expressing the same things I think today. Going even further back then that, in the Bible, Solomon talks about everything being meaningless – that there is nothing new under the sun! So is this a symptom of the human condition? Are we all to have the feeing that life just “isn’t quite right”? I recently started reading a book that answers that question with a resounding “yes”. The author asserts that this life never feels quite right because our souls are not meant for this world. He says we were created for something bigger and better and this life is only a temporary assignment.
But what to do in the meantime? How are we to live each day to the fullest if we are being pulled in 20 different directions at any given moment…our attention being drawn to something different on all sides?
I don’t have the answer…I just write the questions. :)
The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:
Little we see in Nature that is ours;
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon;
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
It moves us not.--Great God! I'd rather be
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn;
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea,
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn;
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea;
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn.
I first read this poem in college and it has since become one of my favorites. Even though it was written almost 200 years ago by a man who lived in a world nothing like my own, its words are so true and accurate. We spend so much of our life’s energy on things that are meaningless…things that bring us neither joy nor fulfillment.
Its funny to me that I tend to think of “way back when” as a simpler time & place…where the stresses of life were fewer…be it the 1960’s or the 1800’s…I just know it had to be better then this over stimulating, break-neck paced world. But reading Wordsworth’s writing I see he is expressing the same things I think today. Going even further back then that, in the Bible, Solomon talks about everything being meaningless – that there is nothing new under the sun! So is this a symptom of the human condition? Are we all to have the feeing that life just “isn’t quite right”? I recently started reading a book that answers that question with a resounding “yes”. The author asserts that this life never feels quite right because our souls are not meant for this world. He says we were created for something bigger and better and this life is only a temporary assignment.
But what to do in the meantime? How are we to live each day to the fullest if we are being pulled in 20 different directions at any given moment…our attention being drawn to something different on all sides?
I don’t have the answer…I just write the questions. :)
Friday, February 18, 2005
Solitude
"I've never found the companion that was so companionable as solitude" -- Henry David Thoreau
Why is it that when you are most starving for a bit of solitude that your family and friends decide that is high time for a weekend-long visit? Happens every time. This weekend has stayed true to form. I have wanted nothing but to curl up with a good book and a cup of tea or quietly plant flowers in the thawing soil of my garden -- spend some time nurturing my soul. How sad is it that I have to consider calling in "sick" to work just to spend some quiet time in priceless solitude? Why is it that our society does not accept and appreciate our innate need to spend time alone -- doing "nothing". The need to constantly be productive and to "do something" can drive a person to madness.
Part of me wants to scream and the other part of me wants to crawl under the bed and hide all day. Funny that the same circumstance produces two seemingly contradictory reactions.
Why is it that when you are most starving for a bit of solitude that your family and friends decide that is high time for a weekend-long visit? Happens every time. This weekend has stayed true to form. I have wanted nothing but to curl up with a good book and a cup of tea or quietly plant flowers in the thawing soil of my garden -- spend some time nurturing my soul. How sad is it that I have to consider calling in "sick" to work just to spend some quiet time in priceless solitude? Why is it that our society does not accept and appreciate our innate need to spend time alone -- doing "nothing". The need to constantly be productive and to "do something" can drive a person to madness.
Part of me wants to scream and the other part of me wants to crawl under the bed and hide all day. Funny that the same circumstance produces two seemingly contradictory reactions.
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Beautiful Women
I have this huge problem with how society has raised generation after generation of American women. For all I know this problem is a world-wide epidemic, but I can only speak from the vantage point of my small corner of Texas...and from where I stand this problem is an ugly blemish on humanity.
The problem is this: women do not see their inherent beauty. Is it the media images we are bombarded with? The way our mothers raised us? The way other women act and treat us? Who knows WHY, but it is a serious problem and we are all guilty of contributing to it at one point or another.
I was fortunate enough to grow up with a father who loved my mother deeply and always talked about her beauty -- at a size 6 or a size 14. I am also fortunate enough to be married to a man who is just as smitten with me...at a size 6 or a size 14. But do I see my beauty? Hell no. To hear me describe myself, you'd think I was an inhabitant of Middle Earth.
I am not just talking about physical beauty, although that is part of it. I am talking about the inner beauty and fire that is a God-given gift to every woman. We spend too much time covering our spots and trying to look a certain way that we forget to nurture the best parts of ourselves. The parts that make us phenomenal friends, mothers, sisters and lovers. We spend too much time talking to each other about what we need to do to look better and too little time talking to each other about what we need to do to nurture our beautiful souls.
I work with 4 women. They are all beautiful in their own way and for reasons they probably do not know. One is 80 years old, one is a size 2, one is a beauty queen, and one swears she weighs over 300. All BEAUTIFUL. And it has NOTHING to do with the way they look.
Tell the women in your life they are beautiful. Tell strangers at the grocery store or the mall. Tell your mother, your grandmother, your friend, your aunt, your wife and your little sister. Actually speak the words to them. REFUSE to further perpetuate the myth that beauty is found on the cover of a magazine and dare to see the inherent beauty in EVERY women you know.
Next blog...extolling the virtues of makeup and shoes! :)
The problem is this: women do not see their inherent beauty. Is it the media images we are bombarded with? The way our mothers raised us? The way other women act and treat us? Who knows WHY, but it is a serious problem and we are all guilty of contributing to it at one point or another.
I was fortunate enough to grow up with a father who loved my mother deeply and always talked about her beauty -- at a size 6 or a size 14. I am also fortunate enough to be married to a man who is just as smitten with me...at a size 6 or a size 14. But do I see my beauty? Hell no. To hear me describe myself, you'd think I was an inhabitant of Middle Earth.
I am not just talking about physical beauty, although that is part of it. I am talking about the inner beauty and fire that is a God-given gift to every woman. We spend too much time covering our spots and trying to look a certain way that we forget to nurture the best parts of ourselves. The parts that make us phenomenal friends, mothers, sisters and lovers. We spend too much time talking to each other about what we need to do to look better and too little time talking to each other about what we need to do to nurture our beautiful souls.
I work with 4 women. They are all beautiful in their own way and for reasons they probably do not know. One is 80 years old, one is a size 2, one is a beauty queen, and one swears she weighs over 300. All BEAUTIFUL. And it has NOTHING to do with the way they look.
Tell the women in your life they are beautiful. Tell strangers at the grocery store or the mall. Tell your mother, your grandmother, your friend, your aunt, your wife and your little sister. Actually speak the words to them. REFUSE to further perpetuate the myth that beauty is found on the cover of a magazine and dare to see the inherent beauty in EVERY women you know.
Next blog...extolling the virtues of makeup and shoes! :)
Let Today Teach You
Today is one of those days that will make you feel intensely alive if you let it. Beware: its 100 proof. It’s a gift – a sunny 80-degree day in the middle of what is usually a cool, damp & dreary Texas February. It makes me appreciate all things living & growing and what they must endure to do so. Whether trees, animals, wildflowers or people…surviving season after season is truly something to be commended.
There is a lesson to be learned in the tenacity of nature. Annually, it battles snow, flood, disease, fire, ice and humans – yet it never grows weary of rejuvenating it self. It was created for LIFE and must go on to fulfill its only purpose. Nature never complains or gets tired…it just continues. People do the same – eventually – but with so much resistance and so many self-destructive patterns it is a wonder it happens at all. If we could only be like the trees, flowers, moss and snails…true to our purpose, living the Creator’s dream for us.
So take a lesson from nature today – in all her divinity and wisdom – and persevere with passion. You were created for LIFE…and LIFE is vast and only limited by the constraints you put on it.
From Ulysses, by Alfred Tennyson:
Come, my friends.
'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down;
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are,--
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
There is a lesson to be learned in the tenacity of nature. Annually, it battles snow, flood, disease, fire, ice and humans – yet it never grows weary of rejuvenating it self. It was created for LIFE and must go on to fulfill its only purpose. Nature never complains or gets tired…it just continues. People do the same – eventually – but with so much resistance and so many self-destructive patterns it is a wonder it happens at all. If we could only be like the trees, flowers, moss and snails…true to our purpose, living the Creator’s dream for us.
So take a lesson from nature today – in all her divinity and wisdom – and persevere with passion. You were created for LIFE…and LIFE is vast and only limited by the constraints you put on it.
From Ulysses, by Alfred Tennyson:
Come, my friends.
'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down;
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are,--
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
Sunday, February 13, 2005
Copy Cat
OK, so I got the idea to do this from my friend Shel-O. We'd be girlfriends if either of us played for the other team...but since we are both madly in love with wonderful men...I'll just have to say she is my inspiration...my muse perhaps?
I'd never even read a blog until I read hers...and I am not sure who I'll tell about this. Maybe no one. I've just come to a point in my life where I see the days all running together and I want something to make each stand out.
I read an article that suggested everyone should spend 5 minutes each day writing down a few things that made the day special. Even if it is small...it will differentiate it from every other day. Who knows if it works...but I am willing to give it a try. Maybe this is the place for it.
So what did I do today? I created this.
I'd never even read a blog until I read hers...and I am not sure who I'll tell about this. Maybe no one. I've just come to a point in my life where I see the days all running together and I want something to make each stand out.
I read an article that suggested everyone should spend 5 minutes each day writing down a few things that made the day special. Even if it is small...it will differentiate it from every other day. Who knows if it works...but I am willing to give it a try. Maybe this is the place for it.
So what did I do today? I created this.
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