After the final NO There comes a YES.
It is on that YES the future world depends.
My questions to you today are:
While I know I have been on an “AD-venture” I hadn’t really realized that I what I was REALLY was doing is “venturing” out.
Take today. I attempted my first solo drive in almost 2 months. Most of this was due my “what you can count on Care is you can’t count on Care” seasons. The plan, per the powers that be, is that my first ‘venture’ could include only TWO stops. Do you realize how hard that is for a whirl-winder like me?
We live in a wild, wacky, whirl-wind world, where faster and bigger often seem better. We go for “want’ versus “need”.
The art of doing “nothing” whether by choice (yours, your body or others) is not a ‘vacation’ – it is harder work than what we might normally do in a day. Concentrating on doing nothing is not equated with being lazy.
It is about taking in a breath. It is going outside and seeing something you normally wouldn’t as you rush by. It’s about taking time to re-group; to take a look at where you are going, where you have been. It sometimes means taking a look from a different view, or two.
And when all is said and done? Your body and spirit are renewed. While the view may be a bit different, you just might realize you need (and WANT!) to do it more often! (Hopefully, by YOUR choice!)
BTW: In case you are wondering – I made it home safe and sound on DRY ALAKSA PAVEMENT! (Can someone PLEASE send us back our winter?! 53 degrees is ridiculous! Our grass is GREEN!!)
I have a friend who once said to me “always remember YOUR song”. I looked at her and said “And, it I forget it, will you promise to remind me what it is?”
I called her last week. I told her that I remembered what my song was, but I couldn’t remember the tune or the words. I was crushed. I was beaten down. I was devastated. I was weary.
She listened. She didn’t say a word. She let me pour out my soul until it was empty. Empty of the hurts of words misunderstood; of unintentionally hurting a friend with no realization the power my words and what they can mean to different people; or how words I speak are sometimes said without thinking they could have double meaning; she listened to me with my gut wrenching; of the frustration of not knowing ‘who/what’ I would wake up with as I deal with a super-glued body; of my husband being right (again) that I haven’t come to the point of acceptance that this is how it will be for me; that I need to go back to my song and rework some of the measures, because life will continue to change.
I realized I was focusing on a song that was not of the genre I write in. My focus was not on the tune or the beat and measures that usually flow easily. My anger was rising, on a day when I didn’t know ‘who/what’ I woke up to, that morning, wondering if I would be able to go on.
I sat crumpled on the stairs, my cheeks streaked with tears, my breath coming in gulps. Still my friend listened silently. For a while it seemed like the phone line was dead as neither of us spoke.
Then I stood up on the stairs and looked outside at the mountains out the windows. The “Big One”, one of our favorite eagles soared on a thermal. Suddenly, I knew not only my song, but I could hear the tune. Some of the words were missing. No…. they weren’t missing, they were rearranged, and in their place was a pause – a rest. And I remembered from my piano lesson days that a rest is part of the music. Foolishly, I thought I had come to the end of my song, instead, a rest, a pause had been inserted.
While I was fighting having to slow down, to pause, feeling angry that there was nothing I could do for the moment to repair the damage of words spoken, I had overlooked the pause that would make the tune flow. While I was rebelling against a body I had no control over, I disregarded that slurring over the rest/pause would change the key.
I know my song. I remember the tune. I am grateful for a friend who listens, even when the arrangement needs to get rearranged a bit so that the song can soar to the heavens.
Because I am SO grateful for all the opportunities and adventures I have been allowed to experience, and because you have journeyed with me, I am offering my book Loose Screws and Skinned Knees for FREE January 17-21 on Kindle. There are free Kindle apps for most computers/tablets/pads!!
Enjoy and tell your friends!!
What you do,
What you say,
Who you are,
Touches and affects people in ways you may never, EVER know.
For YOU, are like your shadow.
You extend to where you may never, ever be;
At times words, especially the words ‘thank you’ seem so hollow, so trite. But today I say them with all gratitude and gratefulness for the over 600 people who Kindle downloaded my book, Loose Screws and Skinned Knees, on it’s free “3rd birthday” celebration. While yes, I would LOVE people to have/buy a paperback copy to have in hand to underline, to copy, to share, to give away, our goal of being an encouragement, of hopefully brightening someone’s day was accomplished this weekend. So thank you, whomever you are – and remember the lesson my husband lovingly taught our daughter (and me) when we couldn’t go on the long-term overseas assignment: The call hasn’t changed – the place just has…. all at the end of your hand, wherever you are.”
Blessings and s’mores from Alaska!
I asked my friend’s elderly father what his favorite holiday gift was, as we Skype’d across the continents.
He pulled out a photo of a door that he had been promised for years would be hung.
It was a beautiful door, made with incredible, loving craftsmanship.
For decades it laid, nary a hinge near. Nary a thought given what the hanging meant to the elder man.
This year, the door was hung.
Since that conversation, I’ve found myself thinking about doors – mostly in the quiet of night, as all lay still.
Will I open the door?
Will I walk through the door if I open it?
Doors can be laid against a wall, or set on saw-horses, waiting for the time to be hung.
The choice is personal.
Do I open the door or do I leave it closed?
Should I even hang the door or should I leave it dormant, leaning/laying?
If I hang it, will it be in the right place?
The choice is physical.
The choice is emotional.
The choice is spiritual, deeply rooted.
People throw doors open.
People slam doors shut – on purpose, accidently, in a rage or fit of anger.
Doors may never get opened for fear of what is on the other side.
Sometimes a door gets opened ever so slowly – just enough to peek inside or out.
Sometimes a door shuts quickly, because of what one sees, or doesn’t see
Some doors are weathered and worn.
Some doors are ornate, shiny and bejeweled.
Some doors are hollow cored.
Some doors are solid.
Some doors are light, while other doors are extremely heavy.
No two doors are ever the same, even if made be the same
Some doors open automatically.
Some doors take keys to open and are heavily locked.
Some doors have no keys, left always to be open.
Some doors take a round grip to open. Others have a lever, soon
to be the mandated law for ‘universal design’ in Europe.
Some doors open or close using a remote access.
You can open a car door using your foot.
As I nod off, I muse: “What kind of door am I?
“Am I a different door at different times?
Do I remain steadfastly hinged?
What kind of door am I with others? Am I open? Do I close carefully or purposely slam shut? Do I timidly let others peek through?
I wonder what types of doors I will encounter today (or especially in April in L.A.!)
Will icy fear stick my hand to the handle, even though I am smart to the know, that a tongue sticks to a pole in a cold winter; or will I fling wide open, as a gift long awaited for, or a surprise unknown, fresh spring air flying in to fill every crevasse in my being.
Knock, knock! Who’s there?
How often do we try to run ahead of what we know better?
How many times do we not let patience have its work?
We get uptight; we worry we won’t make deadlines; we may not reach our ‘goal’.
We let ourselves get overwhelmed in the moment, in the hour, in the day. Calmness evades us, no matter what we do. Rest eludes us, making us feel the strain and pull of life.
We need remember the instrument-maker. We need to know that we are delicately and purposefully made, fashioned to bear our song without a strain. We only destroy the music from within when we rush, seeking to get things done for the approval of others, or for fame, or for the world to take notice of us. We carry two (or more!) day’s burden on the day: today: the ‘present’ – the gift.
So, let’s not waste the gift of the fine instrument we have each been made to be. Remind yourself you are perfectly crafted to join the symphony of life around you, your strings perfectly tuned and tightened so your melody can fill the air. Don’t forget your song. Let patience have its work today!
Thanks to everyone who has stepped up recently to help out with yet “one more” Goofy adventure of “Care-Tuk-it-is” (CareTukitis, in medical terms!)
I never thought an ear infection, centered right over the area of where my brain bleed was 13 years ago, could or WOULD trigger what feels like rehabbing from the bleed all over. What does that mean? Talking like Yoda (subject-object-verb), experiencing failing every neurological test the ER doc gave me (What do you mean, “present wrap time/need to do” doesn’t qualify for “What month is it?!”)
Yesterday my hubby told me I needed to straighten my glasses on my face – only to tell him with my slight facial droop and my bifocals, I HAVE to have them crooked to see – my balance is bad enough!! Things are resolving as all viruses do, just SOME people resolve faster than others!
Some people may not know, having a ‘hidden disability’ or being considered a ‘complex case” due to all my adventures over the years, I often don’t know ‘who’ I might wake up to being; I might not know what the day will bring; it means others often ‘don’t get it’: I look OK, after all! Just wait to watch me take my first step or hear “K-O be I am!” (I’m OK in English vs. ‘Yoda speak.’)
It means the old adage: “one day at a time”. It means the goals/tasks/plans you had HOPED to accomplish for the day might get tossed. Oh well – that’s the way the pickle squirts, right? It’s sometimes sweet, sometimes dill, not very often kosher! But, quite honestly, at times it feels like chopped up pickle relish all jumbled together!
It means that you need to accept the ‘present’ (even though it doesn’t feel like a “gift”!) Since I didn’t do it on purpose, and there is nothing I can do about it, I find that I can roll with it, have fun with it, and hopefully educate some folks along the way – even when I LOOK good, I still sometimes get to park in the handicap spot!
Just a quick ending note: As I’ve mentioned in previous blogs, I’m anxiously and excitedly anticipating an event in April. I am one of 60 people invited to attend the first ever “Instigators’ Experience”. It is sponsored by the folks who host The Unmistakable Creative – a podcast that interviews creative people like the creator of Dilbert, high profile magazine editors, to N.Y. Times best sellers, artists and more. Be sure to look them up and listen to some of their interviews! Srinivas Rao and Greg Hirtle are amazing
Care Tuk is a nationally known speaker, educator, and retreat/workshop leader. She has been a school, hospital, and home health occupational therapist for more than 30 years. She has been named as a Top Business Woman in America and recognized for her work with youth, disability outreach and awareness, and the American Cancer Society.