Wednesday, March 23, 2016

Love Has No Political Party

Love Trumps Politics
YesterdayMarch 22, 2016would have been my daughter Alexa's thirty-seventh birthday—would have been because she died at age seven and a half from brain cancer on November 2, 1986.
I shared Alexa's birthday on Facebook because it's one of the things I do to honor her—to remember her, just as I have her photos displayed in my home, just as I speak about her, just as I continue to love her.
I am abundantly blessed with family and friends who hold me up and show me such extraordinary love and caring whenever I write about Alexa. Hearts reach out and hold my heart. In turn, I get to hold the hearts of others because grief is a universal emotion. We need each other when we experience grief, loss, longing. I receive so much comfort and healing from each person who responds to Alexa's photo on her birthday or her “I Love You Mommie” card on the anniversary of her death.
Yesterday, as I read the kind, caring words of my Facebook family, for twenty-four hours, we each transcended the things that separate us, politics, economics, religion, belief systems. In this election year, politics especially find me drawing hard lines of separation between myself and others.
Yesterday, those lines of separation were erased. Love crossed them out, one by one, and left nothing but caring, compassion, and shared hearts.
I must remember that erasure today and every day. I must place my focus on compassion, caring, and love, because when I get to the core of my essence, the essence of all those billions of people on the planet, we can each transcend and erase the lines that separate us, and leave only love.
Thank you, my Facebook family, for all the love yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

Friday, March 11, 2016

Creating Chaos and Creating Beauty

Sowing Seeds of Hope
Today started out crummy. I slept in my clothes, not a good beginning. Yesterday, I ate about thirty smoked, lighted salted almonds and worked a crossword puzzle at the same time, so I didn’t chew them well. I followed the almonds with a huge plate of nachos, and continued to work the crossword puzzle, again not chewing well. An hour later, stomach pains hit. I have been so careful about avoiding such distress that I’ve had little need for Zantac, so mine was expired. I took it anyway, hoping it had outlived its expiration date. It had not, so I retired to bed, groaning in pain. After a few hours, I reached for the Pepto and some ginger ale. By that time, I was exhausted from pain and self-chastisement for eating so fast. I fell asleep in my clothes and stayed that way until this morning.
It’s Friday, so I had to take the trash and recycling cans to the street. I gathered the errant cans, bottles, and papers from the house and schlepped the blue recycling can to the street. Next, I removed the dead (literally) things from the fridge, again chastising myself for not eating those leftovers and not cooking that thawed chicken. When the foul garbage gathering was over, I schlepped the huge trash can to the street.
I always feel creepy after touching the trash and recycling cans, so I decided it was a good time to get my hands wet and water the plants. A huge mound of dirt was strewn across the walkway because something dug during the night and made a mess of the flowerbed I planted on Sunday.
I felt diminished and disheartened and it was only 8:30. I continued to water and then I noticed the seedlings. On Sunday, I planted several blue morning glory seeds. I didn’t soak them like the directions advised, but I wet the soil well and kept it wet each day—after hosing the strewn dirt from the creature digging during the night.
I felt so low that I almost didn’t notice the seedlings. They are so new that they blend in with the surrounding dirt. When I saw them, I smiled. In spite of the dead things in the trash, yesterday’s clothes, and germs on my hands from the garbage cans, I felt hope. Here was something new, something growing, something that will bloom and bring beauty.
Far too often, I berate myself for the chaos I create in my life. Plenty around me reminds me of the seeds of chaos I’ve sown. Not often enough do I congratulate myself for the beauty I create in my life. I sow seeds and I often forget that beauty will result—and not just in the garden. The morning glory seedlings reminded me of creating beauty—and hope. Perhaps the flower’s name is no accident; a bit of glory early in the day brought hope and a smile and changed my day.