Time rolls by, steadily, reliably,
hopefully not regrettably.
Time rolls by, steadily, reliably,
hopefully not regrettably.
Ever get caught up in frustration that there’s just not enough time to write?
Between working full time, homemaking, investigating information we need to write, and a few other significant endeavors, like parenting, many aspiring writers feel they’ve been “tied to the whipping post!”
Tired of feeling whipped? Let’s take that WHIP in hand, turn it around, and get cracking!
First, let’s clearly identify the factors that WHIP us, ie., detract from our writing time:
W is for working! While some writers are fully financed by someone or something, most of us have to work full-time to keep that ever-so-important roof over our heads and food in our bellies! Read the rest of this entry
Remember twirling around on the swing set out back? Tummy on the swing, arms and legs hanging down, you’d walk in circles to wind the suspended chains around one another, like a rubber band wound up to fly a toy plane, and then lift your feet up, and zoom! Off you’d spin, around and around again, until the swing came to a brief suspension and then spun the other way. Read the rest of this entry
All this talk about compassion and heart! Now it’s time for a quick word about your physical heart.
February is American Heart Month! How can we reach out to the world with compassionate hearts if our tickers aren’t working well?
Here are a few tips from Healthiest Weight Florida Initiative, to achieve and maintain a healthy heart:
I hope you’ll join me, keep tickin’ and spread the good thoughts!
©Joan T Warren
Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not.
Marge lay exhausted at the end of a long day, her eyes puffy from too many tears. It has been an emotional day for her. As she lay on the sofa catching a quick break, an ear out for when her son’s trach needs suctioning, she becomes acutely aware that Read the rest of this entry
This week’s photo challenge: Serenity
I’ve heard it said that serenity is most noticed in the midst of turmoil and chaos.
Yes, there is a certain tried and true beauty to this concept.
This morning my granddaughter put on How to Train Your Dragon. Again.
I sat nearby, reading and thinking, writing a bit, occasionally paying slight attention to the movie.
“In centuries of Vikings, I’m the first one who wouldn’t kill a dragon,” Hiccup sulked to Astrid. Feeling the failure of not living up to his culture’s expectations, feeling the sting of disappointing his father, Hiccup doubted himself. Astrid saw beyond this temporary setback:
“Yeah, the first one who was right.”
Hiccup had decided to spare the dragon when he looked into its eyes and realized, “He was just as afraid as I was.” Hiccup saw with the eyes of his heart.
His compassion, as it turned out, changed everything. It changed his father. It changed his village. It changed dragons. It changed him.
We like to think we are far more advanced than the world of Vikings and dragons. But are we?
Do we see with the eyes of our hearts?
Do we find the good?
©Joan T. Warren
Walking out from yoga class tonight, I stopped. A beautiful clutch of autumn leaves held on, unashamed to be the last among all that was gray and dismal.
It is January, in North Florida.
I thought of all the times that I’ve heard people say, “Hang on. . . just hang on.”
I thought of all the times I’ve heard people say, “Let go. . . just let go and let God.”
I thought about how many times it’s been good to hold on, and how many times it’s been good to let go.
I thought about the years I struggled, trying so hard to hold on, or trying so hard to let go. Because they said so.
Now, at peace. . . with letting go. . . with holding on. At peace with wherever a person is in that process.
When it is time to let go, you will know it, and you will be able to let go. When is time for you to hold on, you will know it, and you will be able to hold on.
So hold on, or let go.
Namaste, salmon leaves of January.
Namaste, Tree Maker.
©Joan T. Warren
She came into this world
and they wrapped her in pink:
A present from God,
with a smile and a wink–
You may have heard of three dimensional thinking; considering past, present and future. As we close out 2014, and welcome the new year, I’d like to propose we consider not just 3-D thinking, but four dimensional thinking as well.
Untimely for we who stay,
Torn in sore lament–
Time and distance
Ne’er to be breached again;
Not from our doing.
Resigned unto eternity
Or waiting to be joined again Read the rest of this entry
First smile from my baby~
Fingertips at my back~
Purple hued sunsets o’er mountain or sea.
A word fitly spoken~
Laughing toddlers at play~
Secret gifts sent before there’s a plea.
There’s so much in a word. What’s your take on the word adventure?
Some say it’s about taking a risk, trying something new, or exploring new territory.
Some say life’s an adventure.
Here’s a little story, based on a real episode, involving adventure:
They passed the turn toward home, and Missy, though only three, knew they had missed it. “Wher’re we goin’?”
“We’re going on an adventure!,” Nana proffered, in her most excited tone.
“But I don’t wanna go on a ‘bencher! I want my mommy!”
Nana drew in a breath and considered her response. She knew the meltdown would only last a few minutes, but it broke her heart every time. She knew, by now–by the tone of Missy’s voice, the rate of her breathing, the look on her face–whether she was ready for an explanation, or comfort, or distraction, or whether words would only make it worse. This time she chose a brief explanation, followed by a time of respite for Missy to regain her composure. When the time was right, Nana brought in the highlights of the upcoming trip.
“We’re going to Tampa, to see Cousin Stevie, play in the pool, and visit a place with lots of pretty fish to see!”
“Stevie? Yay, Stevie! I miss him so much!”
Missy cheered up. The rest of the trip she counted cows and horses on the hillside, “loved” her new bedroom, devoured popsicles at the pool and hung on Cousin Stevie all through the exciting trip through the aquarium. It ended too soon.
On the ride back home, Missy’s love for adventure blossomed.
“I like Tampa. When can we go on another ‘bencher, Nana?”
No matter the level of risk involved, all adventures are a little scary. We can’t always have our mommies with us. Sometimes we get stuck and afraid of stepping out. Sometimes outside forces launch us on adventures we’re not so sure we want to go on. When this happens, we can take time to process it, like Missy did, and end up embracing the experience. If we look for the good, there’s always something to gain. . . eventually.
With risks weighed against benefits, we can usually make good choices about our adventures in life.
That’s my take on adventures for today. What’s yours? Have you a little story of adventure you can share? It’s your turn now!
Joan T. Warren
With appreciation for this week’s WordPress Prompt.
“Has anybody told you today?”
“Well, just in case, I’m telling you again: I love you.”
It was his trademark; his brand, calling card. If you saw Mickey, you could count on hearing these words. You could count on a hug and a smile. If not from him directly, from many around you, as he facilitated groups and classes to “get up, tell someone you love them, hug a neck.”
He was the Cowboy Preacher. The Drunk Preacher, some called him. He’d chuckle. I doubt he’d ever had a drop of alcohol in his life.
He sought out drunks, with a purpose, to share God’s amazing love. Read the rest of this entry
I wait for no one
I am a-wastin’
You cannot stop me
I will tell
I am an illusion
I keep on slippin’ into the future
Procrastination is my thief
If you enjoy wasting me, you will not waste me
I am an equal-opportunity employer
You can’t save me to spend me on another day
If you want me, you must make me
I change things
I am too slow for those who wait,
Too swift for those who fear,
Too long for those who grieve,
Too short for those who rejoice,
But for those who love,
I am eternity
I am the most valuable thing a man can spend
I am the coin of your life
Come spend a little with me
I am what keeps everything from happening at once
I have a wonderful way to show you what really matters
I am the clarity for seeing right and wrong
There is a place for me
I’m of the essence
I heal all wounds
I have been kind to thee
There is one of me for every purpose under heaven
I have no dominion over love
I will explain
I am on your side
You had the me of your life
I go on
I am time
I am up,
Time to go.
This, the ultimate in plagarism, a group of sayings related to time, by various famous quippers and long-forgotten cliche-makers, supplemented and arranged by yours truly, to honor my friend, who is ever precious, present, and elusive at once.
Joan T. Warren
These days we have disposable containers, because what matters is what’s inside. Right?
Besides, what’s inside is not the same as the container, right?
Not so, on either count. Often the two are so melded, so interactive, so mutually dependent, that we just can’t separate them. We can’t value them separately, either.
Take, for example, a good book and its cover. Oh, you don’t think so? Well, how about Uranium-235 and its core container? Or, here’s a good one: the inner self and its human body.
We are quite attached to these bodies, our containers.
Think about it; when we were little, we’d fall and scrape our knee, and it hurt. We cried. Our inner selves felt as if the world was coming to an end; at least until some sweet and very tall human kissed it, bandaged it, and promised, “No Mercurachrome.”
As children, we saw dead bugs, dead flowers, maybe even some dearly loved dead pets. Our inner selves realized those dead ones aren’t coming back. Most of us learned to be more careful with our bodies, to avoid the pain–and, hopefully, not go away forever.
I know I did. I wanted to grow up to be . . . alive! Then, when I grew up, I wanted to live to raise my daughter. Then, to see my grandchildren succeed. Still, I want to live, to create gifts for future generations.
Speaking of grandkids, I’ve seen this generation grow up playing war and street-gang video games, with avatars instead of real people. They don’t even flinch as they gun down innocent bystanders in the midst of the game. On top of that, the heroes get right up and keep going.
But life is for real, and so is death.
Many religions teach us about the inner person, the spirit, and a glorious afterlife. These teachings are inspirational. They are vital, compelling and comforting. Yet something about this begs more.
Maybe it’s the poor track record religion plays in war and peace.
Maybe it’s the impersonal way many religions try to comfort those who mourn.
Or maybe it’s the fallout of valuing inner, spirit-life as eternal, while considering the containers disposable.
Ask anyone who has lost a loved one; it’s not easy to separate the person from the container that now is gone. There is no one in their arms to hold. The loved one’s laughter no longer fills the room. Yes, the memory remains, and gives some comfort. A little comfort. To the grieving widow, child, and friend, though, the container is gone, and so the person inside.
Last year on this day we lost our beloved . . . been in a daze for over a year. . .
Containers are important.
With so much talk about what is in the container, what about the container itself? With such emphasis on inner life, and on the glorious afterlife, do we devalue the precious containers that are vital to achieving our purpose here on earth?
Just tonight, I opened my refrigerator to get a salad I hadn’t been in the mood for yesterday. Having not been sealed in a container, the salad had wilted. I regrouped, and slid it into the juicer with the other veggies. As the juice flowed out, I wondered: what if there were no container to hold the juice? That juice would have spilled out, rather than fulfilling its purpose– to nourish my body.
Our bodies–our containers–are important. They are more than avatars in a game! Take care of your body and treasure what it holds. Encourage others to nurture their bodies. Respect life in others. Feed your bodies with healthy, organic food. Exercise regularly in whatever way you can, building up to and maintaining your best physical state. Take care of the relationships and the planet we need for our containers’ survival. Live in balance: work, rest and play.
For without your container, how will your purpose here be fulfilled?
For we hold these treasures in jars of clay –II Cor. 4
Joan T. Warren
Heart to Heart in a Shielded World
This post grew from:
Containers | The Daily Post
And further developed into a mystery ending with encouragement from:
Mystery Ending | The Daily Post
This is where blue meets blue, with open arms,
where rainbows signal safe from harm.
This is where dinosaurs meld into angel wings,
where sand crabs wiggle and sea gulls sing.
This is where sea turtles race to the moon at night,
where sailboats glide and swallows take flight.
This is where footprints hint the path behind,
where shoreline paints an easy line.
This is a place of reverence:
where things, once muddled, now make sense,
where troubles pale in light of Thee,
where souls connect in reverie–
a place of merging land and sea,
a place perspective calls to me.
©Joan T. Warren
Fading fast, treasured steps and memories.
Church for introverts.
For WordPress Weekly Photo challenge,On the Move
Joan T. Warren