i heard your stare … and turned
around
written by
There are times when
I can no longer carry the burden of my shortcomings.
There are times when
I stand in wonder at the life you have provided me.
There are times when
I cry tears of joy for the beautiful vistas you have prepared for all.
There are times when
friendship arrives just in the nick of time and on the cusp of my despair.
There are times when
your glory is the answer and the reason.
There are times, there
are days and there are moments when gifts are left on the doorstep of my life.
There are times when
I do not deserve yet receive love.
There are times when
I heard your stare … and turned around.
There are times when
all I need to do is simply turn around.
Thank You
As
Intended to Be
written by
Jeannette Zink
March 15, 2019
I looked into
his eyes
I looked into
his heart
I looked into
his soul
I looked into
his spirit
I looked into
his world
I looked into
his future
Yes …
What if The Little Engine couldn’t
or didn’t want to …
written by
I have
always loved the children’s book, The
Little Engine That Could. The rhythmic and reaffirming – I think I can. I think I can. – has gotten me over many a bumpy road throughout the gravel
pits of life. Then, of course, when victory prevailed, and accomplishments were
achieved, I rejoiced in a loud and mighty confident voice … I thought I could. I thought I could!
So, now that
I have more spare time to ponder the what
if questions that float through my retired status universe. I took on the
mighty and weighty questions that now come to light as I re-read this beloved
children’s story. For example, …
What
if my beloved The Little Blue Engine couldn’t or even more devastating – didn’t want to -- puff, puff, chug, chug its way over that monster
mountain towing the broken engine filled with toys and good food for the
children on the other side. What if
it was just simply too much for The Little Blue Engine, no matter all good
intentions and good karma mindfulness.
What
if fear was stronger than bravery for The Little Blue Engine; after
all, “over the mountain” was a new and foreign land for The Little Blue Engine.
What
if the toys had never morphed magically into their life-like persona.
Who would have told the story, who would have negotiated with the other trains,
and who would have convinced The Little
Engine That Could that it could serve a higher purpose in life
than to switch out other trains … I ask you, who???
What
if the funny little toy clown had been the negative type with
absolutely no leadership skills.
What
if the toys had garnered their energies and ingenuity to repair the
broken little Number 7 train. What if they had not relied on the
benevolent heart of the smaller and less equipped Little Blue Engine.
What
if the Shiny New Passenger Engine or the Big Strong Freight Engine or
the Rusty Old Engine had just completed the train company’s sensitivity program
and saw opportunities to help others as a blessing and not an annoying inconvenience.
What
if the children on the other side of that monster mountain were no
longer there because their families had moved to another village with better
employment prospects.
What
if we were kinder and gentler with the caring hearts to serve others …
would we need this story.
What
if we were the joyful toys and the good food that fed the hearts and
souls of the universe.
What
if we were The Little Engine That
Could … in all its glorious Can-Do
persona!
What
if we are now The Little Engine that thought, could and did … oh, what a beautiful place that
would be.
What
if we could now tell a different story because we are much better today
than we were yesterday and will be tomorrow.
What
if The Little Engine That Could
had never been conceived, written and illustrated because there was never a
need to tell this story.
What
if …
There is a
mystical gracefulness in the stories that remain with us from our childhood.
They are the fantastical wand that with one wave can take the unbearable and
mysterious dark corners of our lives and shine the rays of reassuring light …
the relief and hope that we can and will make it over each monstrous mountain
on the brave wings of our faithful Little Blue Engine.
What
if …
The need for
The Little Engine That Could be
simply to remind us that there is always a way to the other side of kindness if
we climb the steps of desire with a caring heart, cast our fears and doubts on
the sideline and believe we can and will be better than we were yesterday.
What
if …
To know and
learn from The Little Engine That Could
will hopefully pave the way to a better way that holds in wait for us … we just
need to make the effort … just like The Little Blue Engine.
What
if … my kindred spirits … what if.
maybe
the Question should be ….
written by
There are re-occurring questions that seem to
enter the conversation I may be having these days. They go something along the
lines … Congratulations on your retirement. What are your plans now that you
have retired? Are you staying in the area? I bet you are going to do some
traveling and see the world, right? Tackle that bucket list? So happy for you … best wishes.
I have always been an overachiever. So, I have
at the ready my prepared responses to these inquiring questions. Yes, indeed, I
do have plans …. After all, I did not retire on a whim – I thought it all out;
did research; measured each pro and con; met with retirement counselors; talked
with financial-like folks; and, even visited retirement communities; plus, made
an inventory of my hobbies and continuing education options. Ask me your
typical question when it comes to the chit-chat of retirement, and I will
provide the answers to your well-meaning questions.
But, maybe these are not the questions to be
asked … maybe the more important question to ask is the one that is tucked
secretly away inside the stairwell of our soulful heart. The one that gives me
more of a challenge and that higher degree of fortitude to climb one more level
of exploration. That question being, “What do you want to reclaim from your
youth … now that you are retired?”
To answer this question is not hard for me, it
is the courage to implement the answer that seems daunting to this 69-year-old
retiree. You see, somewhere along the way, I lost the courage to be brave … to take those bold steps that
in my youth were scary, but I did them
anyway. Here are just a few of (at
least for me) my youthful high-flying trapeze acts:
In
my late twenties, I left all familiar safety nets of family, friends and
homeland to move from my birth state of Oklahoma to the foreign land of New
Mexico.
While
living in my adopted landscape of New Mexico, I ventured across the bridge of New Mexico to Old Mexico – Juarez (on more
than one occasion) ... dancing the night away with the love of my life to the
disco crystal ball tunes of Donna Summers.
Traveled
solo to Europe on a 17-day TWA tour.
Career
goals led to moves from Oklahoma to New Mexico to Dallas to Washington, DC to
Houston to Midwest USA back to Dallas and then finally back to Washington, DC …
traveling solo on all these career-ladder junkets.
Bought
4 homes and sold 3 … all by myself.
Traveled
all over the country … sometimes driving solo late at night in all kinds of
weather conditions and interesting terrain.
Like I say … these were courageous acts for me
and ones that would surely give me pause today. Yes, I was once BRAVE and took
calculated risks that now warm my heart as memories protected by yesteryear’s joie de vivre. I want to rediscover my
bravery … the courage to dare age and logic when the rational mind whispers the
what-ifs of potential life road-bump disasters.
I have purchased all kinds of security
blankets -- insurance policies, long-term health care, AAA for roadside
assistance, mobile phone and charger, check for water pipe links each morning
and evening, and have saved for the inevitable rainy days. So, what is stopping
me from reclaiming my once cherished and youthful BRAVERY?
I tell you, my friends, life experiences can play havoc on the road to tomorrow’s age-proof
brave next steps. I want to be brave and do those things on my bucket list; I
want to toss caution over the shoulder of risky business and do it anyway; and
I want to be responsibly irresponsible (within
limits). I want to find my brave joie de vivre, again!
So, there we are … the question for me is not
what I will do in my retirement … but, will I find the BRAVERY to do all the
things that I would love to do … as I once did in my youth?
Does Amazon
sell safety nets for joie de vivre?
Stay tuned …
Zigzag Dot Pattern
written by
January 11, 2018
When I was between my freshman and sophomore year in college, I struggled to declare a major. My freshman counselor offered little support with my dilemma and the inspiration switch of my mental light bulb had not flipped on, yet. So, I sat on the floor of my bedroom and started to leaf through our family’s set of door-to-door salesman Encyclopedia Britannica. It was the late 60’s and there was no Internet or Google to lean on … just the hard cover weighty books arranged in alpha order and housed in our hallway makeshift library.
It was by sheer accident that I stumbled upon the topics of fashion coordinator, fashion illustrator, and fashion designer. The light bulb was beginning to blink … that’s it!!! I will be a fashion illustrator and designer. I love art; I love fashion; and design is like the perfect icing on this career choice major. That’s It … case closed … decision made … course set … I now had a path to follow and a purpose for the costly expense of a college education. The dots were now connected! Or were they …
Fast forward to the summer of my junior year when my parents suggested I apply for financial assistance after reading an article in the newspaper. I completed the necessary forms and was awarded Federal Work Study. The job that I ultimately secured was in the campus Personnel Office assisting the Work Study Coordinator. I LOVED my job of helping other Work Study students find a job. It was in helping others that I truly did feel that spark of passion for my intended purpose. Just one problem … I was too far along in my declared major to switch gears and pursue a program in personnel administration. My well-planned dots were beginning to disconnect by the snippets of my newly discovered passion.
Fortunately, as the saying goes, where there is a will there is a way – my beloved Work Study Coordinator took me under her wing and navigated a course that would forever change my life. I graduated at mid-term and there was no option but to find a job. There was indeed a job in the campus’ Office of Student Financial Assistance. Scholarship Clerk paying a whopping $1.97 per hour. “Why not apply … it will do until something better comes along,” reasoned my Work Study Coordinator. I did apply and was selected for the job. Just a job until something better comes along … I can still hear those words echoing in my mind after recently completing a 45-year career in the field of federal student financial assistance.
I was fortunate to pursue this career path through several different landscapes. However, no matter the vista, it always fueled my unwavering desire to help others -- just as I had been helped back in the dark ages of typewriters, mimeograph machines and hard covered books.
The beauty of connecting dots -- the pattern does not have to be a straight-line design. In fact, a zigzag pattern renders an interesting design much as the rhythm of a passionate heart when pursuing the intended purpose of one’s life.
Funny how the dots in our lives find a way to connect if we stay open to interesting patterns.
Wish I’d Known
written by
Sometimes I hear people speak with tones of remorse as they stroke their crystal ball with the mystical whispers of “wish I’d known.” It is as if their yesteryears lacked the clarion voice of today’s acquired wisdom. I guess my psyche travels in a slightly different circle of thought … let go of baggage claimed yesterday, benefit from today’s procured insight, and grab hold of tomorrow’s bold new opportunities … that’s my motto. But, just for fun let’s take a quick merry-go-round look-see at a time long ago when first I stepped foot on the ladder of my now 45-year career. Back in the olden days when I viewed my career as nothing more than a “job” to earn money, my wisdom could best be described as “evolving” and my sense of urgency to make well-informed and thoughtful decision danced a whimsical tune of throwing caution to the winds of whatever. So, if I had known then (job epoch) what I know now (career epoch) … wish I’d known… back in those olden days … what erudite nuggets would have informed my naïve blithe yesteryears:
2. Failures are disguised gifts – when unwrapped we find inside an exquisite wealth of knowledge. Think of failures as a soft opening to the many successes that are destined to follow. Learn from each experience as you prepare for your GRAND OPENING!
3. The sandbox of my youth would become the space for creative problem solving and new discoveries for all the future “what-if” questions. Pens, calculators, computers, tablets replacing my crayons, paints, brushes and sandcastles … but not the creative spirit to find answers hidden inside the doodles etched on a once blank page. Play with the grains of exploration without the filters of fear and doubt washing away your shoreline of “what-ifs.”
4. My fears of success and failure were grounded more by the desire to be right than not wrong … right = success / wrong = failure … or so I thought. Wish I’d known that being wrong would lead to far more success and refreshing happiness. I have learned more from being wrong than I ever learned from being right. Guess I was wrong trying to be perfectly right.
5. Perfectionism is a waste of time. Wish I’d known this little gem a loooong time ago! Do not aspire to be perfect, aspire for excellence and dust around the messy parts. My first grade teacher applauded my ability to always color between the lines. It was only after tip toeing outside the lines that painting and learning took on a rainbow scape of lifetime knowledge. Spend your hours outside the line of perfectionism … it will be your best investment of time, energy and effort.
6. Work hard for the money, as the song goes. With all due respect to the songwriter, I suggest a slight modification to the words of this song. I’d say work smart, work with dedication, work with excellence, work with integrity, work with stewardship, and work with respect for others … working hard and long hours may make great song lyrics, but does not score star points for a stellar career.
7. Wish I’d known … Get a life! A career and the success of that career are much like your favorite pie. There are basic ingredients that are needed for any pie just as there are basic expectations in the workplace. There are also unique ingredients that set your favorite pie apart from others just as there are skill sets and individualism that give you a unique voice and contributions for the workplace. In the making of the pie and in the making of a career, there are equal parts: ingredients, mixing, baking, and a cooling period. Bon appétit. Pies and careers are best made with each part given balanced attention. And, by all means … Get a life!
8. Hierarchy reign and office politics … Game of Thrones in the workplace. As much as I would prefer to skip over this phenomenon of gamesmanship and organizational culture, I will remove my rose-color glasses and declare without dramatic gesture the existence of both. Learn as much as you can early in your career the rules of engagement and tactical maneuvers of these team sports. Wish I’d known how valuable these games are in the professional setting and in the personal off-Broadway production of our lives. The language, rules and expectations of these games are rarely included in the academic curriculum … look instead for an on-the-job mentorship to explain these facts of life and/or check out the business section in your local library. Wish I’d known sooner rather than later how to play the game.
9. Strong bridges, sturdy fences and the janitorial team …. The infrastructure of my career could have fallen apart on numerous occasions. The links that averted such professional disasters were the bridges erected and sustained at the hand of collegial respect, fences constructed for demarcation of space rather than silo kingdoms, and a janitorial maintenance team clearing the way for new beginnings. Do Not Burn Your Bridges, Good Fences Make Good Neighbors, and the Janitor May Be Your Next Boss -- sage offerings that are as true today as they have been throughout the ages.
10. Can’t see the forest for the trees … Some may see only the forest, while others may only see the trees, and then there are those who see the overall forest and the minutiae within the forest -- trees, plants, underbrush and waterfalls … It comes down to how one may approach professional challenges. The correct approach is the one that works best for you and the one that works best to achieve a common goal. Just keep open to multiple ways of seeing the landscape.
11. Know when it’s time to move on …. There are road signs to guide the journey you choose to take in life. Heed the road signs, my friends. More than likely, the most important road sign you will ever know intimately is the one that is invisible to everyone, except to you. I refer to your homegrown instincts … the sixth sense of cloudy answers and insecure next steps. There have been times when I was very happy with the status quo of my career. Yet, my inklings and the clearly marked road signs were beckoning me to take bold new adventures. The message delivered through this vessel of abstract delivery is as valid as any formal written communiqué. Respect the nudge and pack your bags … it’s time to move on!
12. Golden Rule …. Treat others as you would like to be treated. Know it, do it and be it … the person that follows the Golden Rule. Your life will be enriched and those that find themselves within your circumference will forever be changed by the wisdom it carries and the grace that it bestows.
These are my erudite nuggets that I share with you – ponder if you wish with a grain of salt. Perhaps these nuggets may not fit into your schema of life, but just in case … pause to consider as you meander your way toward each new goal and remarkable achievement.
May we each find joy in our lifetime journey … forever made stronger and wiser from the gifts that came wrapped within each challenge, failure and success.
As for me, the road sign is distinct and well-marked … now is the time for me to grab hold of tomorrow’s bold new opportunities!
Bon appétit!
What Did I Do …
Did I give
comfort when you needed the gift of just someone to listen?
Did I say
thank you when you shared your grace with me?
Did I give
back more than take of your generosity and kindness?
Did I respect
the beauty of who you are and not stand in the misguided steps of judgement of
who I thought you should be?
Did I offer a
gentle tissue of compassion for your tears of sorrow and tears of joy?
Did I walk
away when I should have found the path to walk toward you?
Did I make a
difference in the privilege of living in your world?
Did I answer
your call when others turned away?
Did my
existence offer positive energy to your universe?
Did I forgive
and make a way for second chances?
What did I do …
Hopefully, I did contribute in the
spirit of goodness; and,
hopefully, I, too, will be given the
gift of second chances.
Responders
written by
The first responder did not know our
name, age, beliefs, financial status, or anything else about us -- all they saw
was a fellow human in need and they simply responded without questions. All the
other responders who came after had no number assigned, but carried within their
hearts the infinite desire to aid those enmeshed by life’s more challenging
times.
These responders, with or without a
number, all came with a compassionate heart and indescribable strength to give of
themselves where others may have taken an easier path. They climbed the heights
of their own fears and carried us from the burning flames, held our hand when
the heart was not certain of the promised next beat, caught us when there was
no other way out, pulled us from the deep waters of despair, fought back the merciless
winds and soaring waves, and with each heroic act they gave us a second chance
at a life that was yet to be.
Glory and recognition are not the trophies
that a responder seeks, thank you is
not an expected exchange but meekly accepted, and compensation dressed in currency
and bonus would not be of value. The prize to be won by the responder is to know
the grace of every life and the gifts they readily shared with their fellow
sisters and brothers on a day when there was no one around.
May the responder’s defining moments be
few - for they are surrounded by pain and sorrow - but when the moments are within
sight, we give praise for their saving wings of generosity and the tireless acts
of their sacrifice for humanity. Our responder has risen to the pinnacle needs
of the once stranger who now holds tight their lifesaving hand.
It is with the gentle and reassuring blessings
of God that each responder provides the unconditional love and bravery for the
grateful soul in need. And, it is with these blessings we humbly thank our responder,
with or without a number, for walking a path far less traveled.
Blessings expressed with deep respect
and great gratitude for all who give to others in their dark hour of need.
You
may enjoy following my blogs:
The Face of Success
written by
(originally written August 6, 2015)
My kindred spirits … I
originally wrote the following essay in August, 2015. I thought it might be
interesting to revisit my thoughts as the new year 2017 gently dances in to our
life. The Face of Success continues
to evolve for me as I learn from the gifts that are intended for my lifetime
story. The following is what I have been blessed to learn thus far…
I have decided to give success a face of expression. I have also decided that the question to be
addressed is not -- Where do I expect to
be in 5 years? It does not matter where I am on the landscape of this earthly
plane. What does matter is the defining
of success
for wherever I may find myself -- how does it look, what are its
feelings, does it have meaning bigger than the parts, will it bring good to the
universe … Yes, the more relevant question to be explored is -- What will success look like for me in 5
years?
The reflection I hope to see in the mirror of my tomorrow’s
future will have the features of a well-defined foundation for living a life of
success. This evolving life that is all
mine will have the necessary tools and descriptive vocabulary to measure the net
worth of my contributions and the expected benefits to the intended recipients…
this will be my worldly view of success.
So, where I choose to be, who I choose to befriend, and how I get from A to Z on my lifetime journey will be
evaluated against the weight of relevance to these thoughtfully examined success
values.
How to go about this rather lofty task of finding meaning
for an abstract concept of success is
the first challenge… lists are good, but what kind of lists. Perhaps I should first define what success does
not look like, maybe then I will find my way to what it does look
like … let’s try that approach, and see where it takes us.
Success does not
look like…
Big time job title
So, what does success
look like, by my definition…
Do I love more, hurt less
If YES, then maybe this is the Face of my SUCCESS and the life I am intended on my lifetime journey!
My kindred spirits, may your exploration in defining your SUCCESS be the gift that will
sustain you more than golden coins and lead you on a path to your enduring truth.
You
may enjoy following my blogs:
The Mountain Lion, The
Woodpecker, The Family of Foxes
written by
I did not
expect my year of 2016 to end on such a pleasant note, nor begin 2017 of equal cheer,
given the wild adventures that took hold and refused to loosen their
lumberjack’s grip on this most exhilarating past year. In fact, as I think back
on the eclectic 365-day calendar and don my Ray-Ban
shades to shield the imaginative glare from the rambunctious year, my thoughts
turn to the genre of mythology and to legends woven into the mystical stories
told in books of folklore. These my literary compass for enlightenment and the milieu
for rationalizing societal accommodations for a game known as survival of the fittest. The gods of
myth and folklore seem to know just the right bell to jingle to set in motion a
swirl of hidden messages, clues as it were, to guide wandering souls to their
intended trek. These clues may not always be apparent and the mode of their
delivery may be as mysterious and slow-moving as the travels on the famed
Orient Express; but keeping our wits, the light ultimately shines on the
answers we seek.
It is only of late that I have begun to translate reason out
of clues sent to me in the form of wildlife … maybe an animal will cross my
path in a conversation, perhaps a sighting, even while exploring real estate
options, or claim stake to winter residence in my backyard shed. Each sent to
deliver a message. Bravely, I open the mailbox of discovery with an open mind
and loving heart, seeking the knowledge awaiting within.
For example,
I recently learned of mountain lions and
bobcats roaming amongst the comforts of the human landscape. Scary as that
seems on the surface, I decided to explore the mythological call of the wild,
and discovered that mountain lions carry themselves with the characteristics of
grace and power, and hold a positon
worthy of sacred by the Native American
Cherokee. This beauty of lions is adaptable and a generalist species; yet,
secretive and largely solitary by nature -- preferring to avoid humans. They
dine on big creatures -- deer and livestock – or, the smaller -- insects and
rodents. Their living conditions may be in the underbrush and rocky terrain, or
in the wide-open environment. In a word, flexibility
is the tune that this wildcat dances to as it zigzags through life’s daily
escapade.
It may be said the mountain lion or bobcat did
indeed roam midst the humankind as we found the strength to stand tall with
grace and empowerment during our times of fear and uncertainty this past year.
I take this message delivered by such a beautiful creature, and will begin to build
a strong foundation to support the graceful and flexible walls of my evolving
goals and dreams. Thank you, mountain lion and bobcat, for crossing my mental
yard of awareness…now, go and play nicely in your own backyard.
Next up, the
woodpecker. Spring would not be
complete if it were not for this noisy little bird seeking with determination
the next goal to be met, the ambition to drill
to the other side, and utilizing every ounce of inexhaustible energy to create
a beautiful work of art out of an old piece of dead wood.
I was ready
to move on – let woodpeckers do their thing. I simply resign to wear ear plugs
until such time that the woodpecker has accomplished their deed. But, then I
started to consider exactly what the “deed” was all about for this little
pin-pointed bill of a bird. They are risking life and limbs to drill a hole in
wood to find food and make a home for their family. Think about the headache
they must have at the end of a day of wood drilling! Their little toes must
need a serious massage after hanging on for dear life to the tree bark as they
peck away at a determined hole. Pain and exhaustion be damn, persistence is the woodpecker’s middle
name, and they will not stop until the job is done! Never give up until you
have accomplished your mission is the woodpecker’s mantra. And, that my kindred
spirits, is my adopted mantra … even when it feels like I am batting my head
(bill) against brick walls … remember the woodpecker, never give up and drill
on!!!
My backyard
is a wellspring for wildlife preservation during the bitter winter months. I
should really be more specific – the shed in my backyard – is the preserving
source for a family of foxes. The
fox family has enjoyed the protective nature of the shed for the past few
years. It seems that the time for birthing and the winter season coincide with
this family, and they now know where I keep the secret key to my shed. I look
forward to the sighting of this family each winter. Anticipate with sheer
delight, the frolicking display of affection of their young, as each gingerly
come out from under the shed to play in the fading snow and dance with the early
spring appearance of daffodils. The cycle of life knows its way to my backyard,
and I am grateful for its perennial warming during the cold winter months. Don’t forget to put the key back in its
secret place, little foxes … it will be waiting for your winter sojourn.
White Hawk Up … I am in search of a new place to
call home for those tranquil days (years) of retirement. The residence that will support
my joie de vivre (joy of living) and yet
not a burden for those times when I travel the world of vagabond. This place to
house my jovial tomorrows is gradually beginning to find logistical definition,
and the square footage necessary to accommodate frequent visits with my loving
family plus the architect to buoy the artist and writer in my soul. It is as if
my first DRAFT is taking shape!
And, then …
without notice nor the slightest bit of commotion, a white hawk recently came floating on mythological wings to focus my
attention of a real estate development that spoke in a rhythm familiar to
longings meticulously listed on my musing wish list. In mythology, the white
hawk -- spirit animal with the power of observation – directs us to study a situation
before taking any action; and, then take discerned action, when the time is
right.
My white
hawk messenger arrived, message received by the student, and the gods of
observation now cast their focus in a pool of potential answers for my tomorrow’s
joie de vivre. Thank you, white hawk,
for the gentle nudge on to a steady path of possibilities, each revealing
answers deserving of deliberate action ... when the time is right.
Before I say
good-bye to this glorious first day of the 2017 New Year, I want to thank each human
and animal that took the time to drift my way in 2016, and for the messages each
graciously delivered to my mental mailbox. I cherish your caring hearts and pay
homage to the messages you have shared with me.
While I am
sure at times during this New Year, we will find ourselves faced with those big
hairy gorilla road bumps, I am
confident that we will pick ourselves up and together we will move forward … no
matter the size of the gorilla that dare to cross our path!
My kindred
spirits … remember the past with the amber glow of experience and look forward
to the future with the gorilla
strength of love and peace.
Joie de vivre in 2017 and for a lifetime!!!
You
may enjoy following my blogs:
Three Gifts One Wish
written by
December 20, 2016
The good and the bad tend to travel
in 3’s. Just one of the tried and true mystical superstitions that I have heard
throughout time and/or read in a book somewhere. Most recently, I read in
Matthew the biblical interpretation of three wise scholarly men traveling by
the light of an eastern star to the town of Bethlehem to pay their respects to
the newly born child thought to be the King of Jews. The gifts brought by these
scholars were not toys, onesies, or diapers. No, the treasures were gold,
frankincense, and myrrh. Why would these
items be the carefully chosen offerings for the presumed crown King of Jews … a
baby male child just looking for a little love and some warm fresh milk … not perfume,
anointing oil or the valuable glam and sparkle of gold.
If one were to dig into the historical
pages of the biblical scholarly tomes, one would soon learn the relevance of these
specific gifts and pay honor to their equivalent of a Michelin gold star ranking.
The logic of these gems and the merits of their holistic medicinal properties
would give pause for a V-8 moment … of course, we would mutter, as we tap
our forehead. These gifts, meant for kings, were far more than exquisite luxury
items. They would prove in due time their capital worth that the local
pharmacist would bow to the treasure chest of their healing compounds and to their
divine meaning in the life of this precious child.
Wrapped in this cloak of knowledge, I
now turn my thoughts to the three gifts I would give in honor of those I
treasure on the stature found in the land of Kings and Queens. My gifts would
surely be snubbed by the worldly skeptics and the self-chosen elite. Their
worth undervalued in today’s market place; their usefulness cast to the bends
of the Salvation Army; and tagged for
the everyday common re-gifting pile. In other words, the “ugly Christmas sweater” would be the classification given to my
heartfelt gifts. Regardless, I will give these gifts with deep love. I know
with unquestioned confidence that my gifts will be measured in due time for
their invaluable worth. Even though, my gifts will be laughed at, scoffed and
ridiculed and circled in the mystery of the Magi gifts, there will be a moment
when it will make perfect sense to the intended recipients … that magical V-8 moment when the pieces will fit
perfectly into the life of those kindred spirits who open their hearts and souls
to these treasures.
Here a gifting we go …
Gift 1. Technology devices have their place on the
scale of importance ranking up there with Super Bowls, weddings, births,
inaugurals, good hair days and mega sales at Wal-Mart. Their prominence has grown over the years to that of
celebrity status. Who are you really if you do not have a device in hand and/or
on your lap? And, who are you if not constantly looking at said device? You are
no one … just a fading and marred antique waiting to be picked-up for the
consignment store. Who wants to be a worthless antique … not me, I want to fly
with the golden eagles. So, here is my
gift … I will love my devices and I will cherish their technological
wizardly; but when in the presence of the human/animal species, I will give my
full attention and emotional intelligence of engagement to these worthy species. This person/animal, who has honored me by
entering my sacred space, will see my eyes and know the sound of my
non-distracted voice. The human being (me) will be my device for communicating,
not technology. I come wrapped with a soul and spirit that will honor you with
my total attention. In short, I promise to be PRESENT … to SHOW UP!
Gift 2. My God-given life journey is mine,
not your journey. You cannot walk in my shoes nor travel down my trail. God
intended for this adventure to be mine … one that I would learn many lessons,
reap the rewards, cry tears of each challenge, overcome struggles with the
strength of a David and bow with humbleness to God’s mercy. It is through these
travels that I will find the trueness of the me that God intended, and the invaluable purpose of my walk on this
chosen travel itinerary. As is the case with most explorations, the outgrowth
of knowledge gained will render opinions and ideologies formed, beliefs
adopted, tolerances developed for an acceptance or rejection of behaviors and
lifestyles, and a soul that will take flight on the wings of tomorrow’s history
cradled in the memories of yesterday’s story. I will ultimately become the person that God always intended, but I
may not be the person you had hoped
for nor ever intended of me. My gift to
you is the respect to honor your journey and all the treasures you will find on
your lifetime travels. I promise that you will never find me standing in
the department store’s exchange line with the gift I hope you will have gladly
afforded me … your gift to cherish the God-given path that only I can and must
travel. Love will be our anchor; respect our light; and God our roadmap-maker
to the life we are each intended to find and to follow.
Gift 3. There
are times in life when you may find yourself in an emotional and/or intellectual
quagmire. The relationships stumbled into may run hot and cold; love and hate;
can’t live with them can’t live without them. World events may swing from the
drama of war to the placid rejoice of peace on earth. There will be times when
you may sit on top of your all-knowing judgmental pedestal or beg forgiveness for
your bad judgments and wrong-turn decisions. In any event, sooner or later you may
find yourself straddling the proverbial fence of “should I or shouldn’t I.” You
will ask yourself Socratic questions in search of the critical thinking of truth’s
answers … should I take that leap of faith and dive into the unknown world of the
brave or remain on the well-grounded fence of better safe than sorry. Evaluate will be the moniker given for
these times of “stalling” on this fence of indecision and fear while waiting for
perfection … when all answers are known, all facts are revealed, and everything
is just the way you want it to be … perfect.
What a quagmire of dilemmas you may find yourself! My gift to you is to tear down that fence and put on your wading boots.
The morass will be quite messy and you will get your hands dirty, but the water
and soap of the soul will make way for your newfound courage to face each
quagmire with determined faith in yourself. Just believe, my dear kindred
spirit, and see the wonder that will lead you on an unbelievable journey. Live
every moment of every day of your God-given life … don’t waste a second in the safety
heights above the quagmire! Make mud pies and drink sweet lemonade.
One Wish.
Please accept my gifts and make the most of each. They are given with deep love
and respect for you, my Kings and Queens. The value tendered on the scale of
gold, frankincense and myrrh and intended to serve you on your passage of a lifetime
journey that only you can travel.
Blessings and love, my kindred
spirits. Enjoy this most beautiful of time.
You
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Life on the Ridge
written by
November 8, 2016
Every coin
has two sides, every story has 2 sides, every leaf has 2 sides, every muffin
has a top and bottom, every wish has a hope, and every life has ups and downs, usually … I think you get my drift. But,
kindred spirits, it is not the top and bottom or side A and side B that I opt
to hitch my wagon and ride off into the sunset of misty rainbow dreams.
In the
spirit of day’s events, I am here to campaign for the RIDGE. Yes, it is for the
RIDGE that I cast my vote. The RIDGE … strong, life-worn, intelligent,
creative, tried and true of character … my steadfast companion for when the
chips flip. The RIDGE is my lifeline rope that continuously ties the knot from the
page to page of an enlightened tomorrow. The RIDGE of matters is where I prove my
worth, where the tale is told, and where the whip cream on top of life’s coco makes
it all just a little bit more endurable when a range of reason may be a bit out
of focus.
Some may
choose to ride the wave, go with the flow, or draw their line in the proverbial
sand in times of change and turmoil. I tell you, the RIDGE is the place to be …
best seat in the house to ponder all the what-if’s
and maybe that’s. The view is so much
clearer and the air is fresher on the RIDGE. Just the other day, I was up on
the RIDGE – first time in a while – and it was wonderful. I saw things and
heard things on the RIDGE that I would have never experienced in the murky crevices
of life’s dilemma.
Yes, we did
have a lively debate, my RIDGE and I, but it was a respectful and thoughtful conversation.
The RIDGE offered suggestions, pros and cons, highs and lows of the issues. I,
in turn, lobbed every argument with the oh,
but’s strength of a left-brain sumo wrestler. However, I graciously admire and
lamentably admit that the RIDGE is so much smarter than me. It is with respect
that I bow to the master RIDGE, and take a look-see through loaned binoculars of
a future made from the insights gained on RIDGE mountain.
Kenny Rogers
and my RIDGE have something in common, each know when to “hold’em and when to
fold’em” when exploring the slippery slopes of human dealings. They both know
the rules of living the game. They both provide the foundation that will sustain
every decision encountered on a trek across the landscape of defining moments. Kenny
and my RIDGE know fairness and honorable standards must be engraved on both sides
of every coin, but the strong of character riding on the RIDGE of that coin is
the Master’s keeper and the bonding gel for every decision on a lifetime
journey.
Vote for the
RIDGE … today and every day. You will never regret your decision, I promise
you.
I rest my
case, kindred spirits. Peace and love.
You
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Curbside chat with my
Soul
written by
October 23, 2016
It was early, very early on a Monday morning when the train
arrived at Huntington Station. I boarded this very early train in my usual
automatic half-asleep mode. The seats vacantly awaiting my selection. With a
casual demarcation, I stake out my territory for the very early 30-minute ride
to our nation’s capital. The train car pleasantly toasty on this cold January morning,
for this I was immensely grateful. It was now my sacred time to rest my weary
early morning soul, disregard the quiet chatter of the other passengers and
dream of the day I could retire from this routinely stressful life.
“Good morning, my lady, what do you plan to do with the rest
of your life?” asked the essence sitting next to me. “What did you say?” I
manage to mumble with as much disdain as possible, without being absolutely
obnoxious to my uninvited seatmate. “It’s a brand new day. I was just wondering
what you planned to do with your day. You must have something amazing planned
since it was given to you without any conditions.”
Just who do you think
you are, I want to say to this disturbing and inconvenient disruption to my
morning routine. But instead, I manage a
civil exchange … “Look, you may be in a pull
up a chair to the curb of my soul for a chat kind of mood, but I am not. I
respectfully ask that you go visit with someone else who would not object to an
early morning philosophical exchange of existentialism. Have a nice day.
Good-bye.”
“I could definitely move on,” said the phantasmagorical
nuisance denying me of my well-deserved quiet time. “But, you really need me
this morning. I am the one with the
answers you are desperately seeking.”
“Okay, I have tried to be polite, but you must leave me
alone, or I will call security!” “Go away, NOW!!!”
“I am so sorry to have bothered you this morning, my lady. I
want to leave you this very moment; I truly do, but I cannot.” “What do you
mean, you cannot?” I once again engage with this unpleasant thing sitting next to me.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but I am attached to
you and cannot take flight like one of those planes at the airport that we just
passed. I am the gift you have been asking for each morning before you leave
your home. I am the answer.”
“Well, if you are the answer,
what is the question?” I play with
the vision at my side.
“You know, my lady. You ask God each morning to show you the
person you were intended to be and the path you are to travel. You ask God to
help you be a good person.”
“Are you trying to tell me that you were sent by God to
provide the answers to my questions and prayers?” I smirk to this thing that has unquestionably dismantled
my morning commute.
“You have elevated me far beyond my position in life, my lady.
I am not God’s FedEx service.” “I am
more like your wake-up call. You know … you wake up most mornings before your
alarm sounds, but the alarm goes off, anyway. You already know the time without
evening looking at the clock, but yet you let the alarm go off, anyway.”
“So, wake-up call,
what are you waking me up to?” I continue with the banter.
“I am waking you up to what you already know, my lady. God
has placed in your heart the answers that you seek. You just need to open the
proverbial door and step inside to greet the answers.”
Next stop, Union
Station in our nation’s capital … I hear the conductor announce.
“Good day, my lady. This is where we get off to start our
brand new day.” “The door is open … time to step through.”
I did step through the door on that very cold early Monday
morning January day, but not the same as I had begun on that morning’s journey.
I felt warm in my confidence that all the answers I needed were no longer
hidden in some mystical corner of the universe, but stood tall and in plain
sight within me. I just needed to open the door and greet each answer with
respect. The sigh of relief was not mine, but that of the answers that had been
begging me to release them from their place in wait … for me to open the door.
May your questions be the friend that waits by your side
until you find the courage to open the door and greet all the answers you will
ever need.
Peace and love, my kindred spirits.
You
may enjoy following my blogs:
The Raspberry Hour
written by
October 9, 2016
The sun now rests on the waning magenta
and lavender rays of our daylight hours.
Time has scattered hither and thither,
as if raspberry swirls
Secrets and regrets veiled in the aromatic
scents of our rosemary and thyme memories.
The nightscape soon to take lead role in the narrative of our fantasies
and tomorrow’s truths.
This is our raspberry hour when we pause
and self-evaluate the swirls of our day.
We search through misty fragments of
successes and failures,
Our sleepy eyelids lower with the
window shade of this day,
We are now free to join the night in a
stroll made clear
The universe gently wraps its loving arms
around our unsure soul, and
Come dance, beckons the nighttime
hour,
Graciously, I thank you, gifts of the
night,
Now, dear night; with deep respect,
The sun will soon dawn and bravely I lift
the window shade on a brand new day.
Maybe this will be the day that I
share the best of me.
Peace be with You,
You
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Life is never straight
Forward
written by
September 4, 2016
When a thing
is over, you simply pick up and move on. It’s that simple. Unless it’s not.
Unless the bits and pieces of the unfinished parts resist their assigned space
in our life. The leftovers … what to do with those pesky fragmented leftovers …
the mosaic pieces nicely broken in shapes that fit snuggly into a place hidden
until coming out for their midnight visits. The unwelcome guest knocking on our
door in the hours intended for respite of the weary soul.
The picture
perfect life encased within a beautiful frame. But, what about the fringe that
wait off-stage in the shadows … casually sliding into our photo shoot? What to
do with the fringe … the question sits uncomfortably in the backseat of our
emotional roller coaster ride.
The bits and
pieces of our life dangle from delicate threads, as if wind chimes swaying in
the breeze to a tune of allusive regrets and starlight dreams. Their music
float among the memories of yesterdays and the hopes of tomorrows. It should be
a time for rejoice, but the gods of incompleteness persist in the compartment
of unsettled business. The need to make
things right, before moving on with our life … before simply picking up and
moving on.
Life is
never straight forward and our desire to make things right is never easy. Here is the thing, my dear friends, when a
thing is over, it just may actually be over … we may not want
to see it, to accept it, but it may actually be where it needs to be … for now,
at least. So, don’t hold on to the past
and all the bits and pieces that don’t quite fit with the visceral picture of a
perfect life. There are many different
perspectives of a photo with the natural shadows and tones cast in the
background. We can use the techniques of
altering the imperfect and to align with our
concepts of perfection, but it then becomes our
manipulated image of perfection.
We want
people to like us, to love us, to be in agreement with us, to make our life
complete and perfect. That is what we
want, but what about the other people?
Does what we want fit with what the other people may want in their life … do all the want’s fit inside a beautiful mosaic
picture perfect life? More than likely
the answer is NO … sometimes, never, or
maybe just not now. This is an okay
place to be, actually. Hug, shake hands,
wish each other well … pick up and move on, for now. This is a wonderful gift
we can give each other.
Life is an
evolving universe allowing for growth and space to meet new vistas. Our wants are necessary to us, our needs
imperative to us and our right to be the person we were intended to be is God’s
gift to us. Let’s be brave enough to
share these gifts with others in our life … and, then pick up and move on. The universe will know when it is time to
revisit the place we may find ourselves to be … each day a renewal for love and
grace to find that picture perfect place.
Peace, my
kindred spirits … the picture is perfect, for now.
You
may enjoy following my blogs:
The Greeter
written by
September 2,
2016
The sign
outside a building I pass each morning reads –
Welcome, Come As You Are
I began to
wonder what could be inside this building that stands four walls tall;
So, I
stopped one morning and went inside this familiar building that stood four
walls tall.
“Here I am,” I said at the
portal –
“Welcome,” I
heard you say, “please come in and rest this day, you have traveled so far.”
The sun has now
risen many seasons since that morning I stopped
Welcome, Come As You Are
to this
place made four walls tall;
This is your home and you are free to
roam;
Welcome, my friend,
You
may enjoy following my blogs:
Expect nothing in
return … but, do it anyway!
written by
If you are a parent, be the Parent of the Year in the heart of your
child.
If you are a friend, be the best
friend the universe has ever experienced.
If you are a leader, be the best example
of excellence that history will honor year after year.
Expect nothing in return
… but, do it anyway!
If you are the person behind the vision
of others, be the best maker of the vision … without your skills and knowledge,
the vision remains only an elusive dream.
If you are the minister to the meek and
emphatic, each are in need of your guidance and wisdom.
Do not judge, do not ignore, do not assume,
and
do not leave behind the grace that was passed on to you.
Expect nothing in return … but, do it anyway!
If you are the reader of great works,
learn from the toil of the author and bow to their mastery.
Pay your respects to their gift that was
graciously shared for your enjoyment.
If you are an artist, make the art
that touches your soul and then share it with the cosmos.
Expect nothing in
return … but, do it anyway!
If you take up space on this planet,
do good things and do it with love and respect for all.
Just show up … we are all in need of
each other.
Expect nothing in return …
but, do it anyway!
Peace and love, my kindred spirits …
expect nothing in return, but do it anyway!
You may enjoy visiting my blogs:
Treasures of Tunnel Chatter
written
by
July 24, 2016
I’m losing you … can
you hear me … we are going through a tunnel … hello … hello … ah, there you are
… what did you say … wait, we are going through another tunnel … hello … what
did you say … I thought you said something about ‘hate’ or was it ‘ate’ … here
we go again … talk with you on the other side …
The sad thing about picking up the tunnel conversation on
the “other side” of the tunnel is that it more than likely does not get any
better than the one you were having while "inside" the tunnel. That’s the way of
it with us human type. We really are
very poor listeners and even more challenged in the art of interpreting what we
think we just heard. Why is that, I wonder? Could the answer be entwined with the 24-hour
chatter going on inside our very preoccupied brain? The beauty of our rhythmic, poetic and sometimes prosaic words are continuously being lassoed by the demons we play
company with on a forever looping Ferris wheel of taken the wrong way words, disjointed sentences, or by the short
hand speak of social media.
You have probably seen it, and just decided to ignore the proverbial
“staring-in-your-face” signs … you know, the blank gaze after you have made
what can only be classified as the most profound statement, the disconnected
context in a dialogue exchange, the sudden need to check text messages, the
glance away so as to escape the next spoken words … the signs are always there
for us. The trick is to follow those signs through the next tunnel and come out
the other end with an awareness that the interruption was just a pause not a forever dropped line of communication … end of
conversation … silence, as if our words were chopped apart by a foreboding dark
passageway and never to be mended by that promise of a light at the end of the tunnel.
It occurs to me that perhaps the tunnel chatter is precisely the language we should adopt when faced
with uncomfortable conversations. The phrases … I’m losing you … Can you hear me … What did you say … Wait … Talk
with you on the other side … are the saving grace stop gap words that could
aide our unease in navigating the choppy waters of feelings, emotions and human
interactions … a means to wave a yellow flag and slow down the verbiage train
to avoid the unintended destructive wreck of a conversation. One that may
result in a life-changing relationship detour when years from now this exchange may never be remembered,
but will forever be felt.
The next time I talk the language of tunnel chatter or
experience the frustration of a difficult conversation, I am going to employ
the secrets of tunnels. Hit the pause button until reaching the other side of a
tunnel vision conversation … breathe between tunnels … and pick up my chosen
words on the other side when hopefully the light is shining brighter and my
thoughts are viewed from a clearer perspective – one that takes in to account the
person waiting at the other end of the tunnel chatter. Silence is golden at times, but love and
respect for each other is a lifetime worth of tunnel chatter.
Peace, my kindred spirits.
Travel with love and may you find value in the treasures gained from
tunnel chatter.
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Trailblazer Adalyn
Grace
(an Adalyn Grace
story)
written by
July 9, 2016
Adalyn Grace
“Well, howdy partner,” said Adalyn Grace’s mother on this
fine Thursday morning. “Saddle up to the
old kitchen table and have yourself some of my special breakfast grub,” Sheriff
Adalyn Grace. “I must say you look
mighty cute in your western attire this morning, Miss, or I should say Sheriff
Adalyn Grace.” Dig in before the other
ranch hands come for their share of my superb cooking. “Mom, you are so funny
sometimes,” giggled Adalyn Grace.
“Just curious … why the western theme, Adalyn Grace?” asked
Adalyn Grace’s mother. “Well, Aunt Mae
Bea just got home from her trailblazing
trip to Antarctica,” said Adalyn Grace. “So, Maisee Beezee and I are galloping
over to see Aunt Mae Bea in our trailblazing
clothes to find out all about her trailblazing
trip!” “I see, said Adalyn Grace’s
mother, sounds reasonable to me. By the
way, what is a trailblazer?” “Good question, mom. Just the question Maisee
Beezee and I are going to ask Aunt Mae Bea!” “Well, have fun you two and give
Aunt Mae Bea my love.” “Will do,
partner,” laughed Adalyn Grace.
“Hi, Aunt Mae Bea!” “Welcome home
… Maisee Beezee and I are so happy to see you!!” How was Antarctica? Did you make new discoveries? What is a trailblazer? How can I be trailblazer? How do you like
our trailblazing clothes? Did you get
our texts all the way in Antarctica? “We have so many questions, Aunt Mae
Beas. Maisee Beezee and I have been
saving up all our questions … just waiting for your return and it is THURSDAY! You
remember Thursday is our day when all questions come out to play,” Adalyn Grace
said as she tried to catch her breath.
“Well, let me take a look at the
two of you! I have missed you so much, and all those fabulous questions of
yours.” “Love your western theme…very trailblazing,
indeed, smiled Aunt Mae Bea. Let’s sit in our special chair, and sort out all your
questions.” “PRIORTIZE!” laughed Adalyn Grace.
“First, thank you so very much, Adalyn
Grace, for taking such good care of Maisee Beezee,” said Aunt Mae Bea. “You did
a wonderful job caring for my precious Maisee Beezee while I was in Antarctica.
I am so proud of you, Adalyn Grace!” said Aunt Mae Bea as she gave Adalyn Grace
a gigantic hug. Maisee Beezee buzzed all
around Aunt Mae Bea and Adalyn Grace sharing her hugs and kisses, too.
“I just kept thinking … What would
Aunt Mae Bea do? … then I would do it!” said Adalyn Grace. “I wanted to be a trailblazer just like you, Aunt Mae Bea!” said Adalyn Grace.
“Let’s look up the word trailblazer, Adalyn Grace, and see what
we discover,” said Aunt Mae Bea. Adalyn
Grace loves books and the dictionary was one of her favorite books. The meaning of trailblazer is someone who
prepares the way for others who follow, read Adalyn Grace. “That’s definitely you, Aunt Mae Bea!” said
Adalyn Grace. “You are always showing me
how to do things so I can ‘take it to the next level,’” as you would tell me, Aunt
Mae Bea. “That’s right Adalyn Grace,” said Aunt Mae Bea. “It’s like taking care
of Maisee Beezee … I remembered what you would do and tried to follow in your
steps,” said Adalyn Grace.
“But, sometimes there are no
ready-made answers, Adalyn Grace.
Sometimes, you must find your own path to the answers to questions you
want to explore,” said Aunt Mae Bea.
“And, those very questions are the questions that someone else may also
be asking, but my precious Adalyn Grace is already preparing the untraveled path
to the answers … Adalyn Grace, trailblazer!”
“I see the spirit of a trailblazer in your joy to question and
in your bravery to try new adventures.
You have the heart and soul of a trailblazing
explorer, Adalyn Grace,” said Aunt Mae Bea.
“And, one day we will all learn from the trailblazing Adalyn Grace because she will have asked, explored and
discovered the answers to so many important questions!”
“I love our Thursdays, Aunt Mae
Bea, and I love you!” said Adalyn Grace.
“I love you, my trailblazing
Adalyn Grace!” said Aunt Mae Bea.
Love you, buzzed Maisee Beezee …
all the way to next Thursday and back!!!
Bee theme inspired by Kandace
Dalcour.
You may enjoy visiting my blogs:
Playing with Questions
on Thursdays
(an Adalyn Grace story)
written by
July 5, 2016
Adalyn Grace is certain
of three (3) things and one (1) thing more on the rating scale of a maybe. Adalyn Grace knew without hesitation that a
wish could be caught with the blink of a star because she had chased after many
a starlight wish and had successfully caught every single one. She knew dreams took flight on the whisper of
a bee’s wings … there goes one now! But, the one thing Adalyn Grace knew with
profound assurance was the magic in Thursdays – the day when her questions all came
out to play. However, Adalyn was less certain of the necessity for the answers to her questions. So, she ranked answers a maybe … and, that became a subject to be questioned on one of her magical Thursdays.
Another reason Adalyn Grace enjoyed Thursdays was because this
was the day she would visit her Aunt Mae Bea. They had so much fun exploring
all the questions that Adalyn Grace had saved up for this special day. Aunt May Bea would listen very carefully to
all of Adalyn Grace’s questions, and help her to sort out her three (3) most
important questions for each Thursday’s visit.
Aunt May Bea was big on PRIORITIZING!
Today is Thursday and Adalyn Grace has so many questions twirling
inside her head! She can hardly wait to
start exploring her questions with Aunt Mae Bea. But, before Adalyn Grace can even begin to
ask her questions, Aunt Mae Bea has a question for her.
“I have so many questions, said Adalyn Grace.” “What if I make a mistake and Maisee Beezee
flies away and never returns?” “What if
she doesn’t like me since I’m not you?” “What
if Maisee Beezee gets sick and I don’t know how to care for her?” “What if I
get sick and I can’t care for Maisee Beezee?”
“What if …”
Aunt Mae Bea put her hand up as if she were a big red stop
sign. “What are you trying to say with all
of your questions, Adalyn Grace?” “Your questions are really good questions,
Adalyn Grace, maybe we should search out the answers hidden inside your
questions. The answers are just as important as the questions.”
“You are right, Aunt Mae Bea, said Adalyn
Grace.” Let’s search for the
answers. “Now, I am certain answers are just as important as all of my questions!” said
Adalyn Grace.
Maisee Beezee buzzed with happiness that Adalyn Grace would
be caring for her. “See, Adalyn Grace,
Maisee Beezee is absolutely certain without any hesitation that you
will do a splendid job of taking good care of her!”
“I am absolutely certain
without any hesitation that I will be able to take care of Maisee Beezee!”
said Adalyn Grace. “No question about
it!” said Aunt Mae Bea with a twinkle in her eye.
“Questions are fun and help us to learn,” said Aunt Mae Bea. “Answers are a question’s lifetime companion …
like the prize inside the gift of each question. They need each other just as we need them to
help us make our best decisions, Adalyn Grace.”
“Thank you for believing in me, Aunt Mae Bea. I love you.”
“I love you all the way to Antarctica and back!” Aunt Mae
Bea said as she gave Adalyn Grace her best ever hugs and kisses.
Maisee Beezee buzzed and buzzed with joy, as if to say … What
another fun Thursday this has been!!!
Hide and Seek … Seek
and Find … or something like that
written by
I have searched high and low for something … that something I’m not even sure of; but, that
does not impede my search for this treasured something, which makes for an even greater challenge for that which
I seek. After reading this opening sentence, it takes me back to my studies of
the great literary salon of Gertrude Stein and the 1920s Paris … Rose is a rose is a rose.
Nonetheless, this
search of mine must continue until finding the very thing I’m in search of; and,
that which will most definitely and completely brim with satisfaction upon the something’s great discovery. This prized
token, hidden just around the fringes of the age old game – Hide and Seek, cloaked in mysterious riddles
and annoying rhymes, will make its appearance in due time – or so believe the
precious of innocent mind.
Perhaps, I will stumble upon this allusive something as I peel back the corners of each
maybe this or casually remember a maybe that in the musty old forgotten
archives of yesterday’s memories. If
only to stay the course, no meandering here and there, I tell myself, and you
will find that which you seek. Right,
that is the thing to do … stay the course. Don’t think so much; just let things happen,
just let that thing you pursue reveal itself … that will be the something you were chasing after, but were
never formerly introduced.
Seeking has
magical powers. It never has a need to map out an itinerary for the adventure
and discovery awaiting each undisclosed journey. And should you inquire of such
a schedule, please be prepared for a most unpleasant exchange between reason
and whimsy. I know this for a fact, as I
once packed logic in my bag for one such excursion, and soon learned the high
price charged for the extra weight of this rational reason of reason. Whimsy is
so much lighter and travels for free, not to mention all the laughs and light-hearted
fun. Seeking with whimsy is my new
found travel buddy -- together we search for the thing I do not known for that
which I seek … that something.
I heard Pope Francis say one Christmas Eve Mass to not seek God, let God find you. Stopped me in my midnight daze and caused my
mind to start blinking neon lights of enlightenment. Then I started to think
about other familiar analogies … love finds
you when you least expect it, a child conceived just when you had given up all hope
and opted for adoption, finding a
missing object after years of searching (seeking) … you may have your own gems
to add to this lot.
It was also about this time when it occurred to me that the merciless
search for the worrisome something may
be my quest to find the missing brick-and-mortar
of my life, the bits and pieces that were tossed aside over time for the sake
of a career. Yes, my life is good, but there is definitely room for improvement
… for instance, where did I drop off my soul and spirit in exchange for success?
Could this be my problem? I am the
one doing the seeking; I am the one carry the load; I am trying to lead this
search party. Maybe I am the problem! It’s not
an “I” kind of job this seeking and finding business.
During the lull between
now and until then, I play with
the whimsy of this lifetime game of Hide
and Seek and cast my energy around the unexpected joy of each new
discovery. Just maybe I will find the
very something never intended, but were
destined to be found all along. Probably the reason I could never really appreciate my seeker’s kaleidoscope of poetic
somethings … the seeker must first learn it is far more rewarding to have been found. As for that unquenchable search
for the undefined something, I wonder
how that thirst got there in the first place … maybe, a bit of whimsy or perhaps
the power of our Finder.
Peaceful journeys, my kindred spirits … travel with the
lightness of whimsy, the heart of a seeker
and the wisdom to provide room for the grace of our Finder … and that is something
wondrous!
The Lord says: “Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient
paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for
your souls.” Jeremiah 6:16 (NIV)
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Even educated bees do
it … take a gap year
written by
The caps and gowns are buzzing with excitement on this
special day. Graduation Day at BeeWise High! The day that all bee parents hope will
finally arrive for their bee sons and daughters. A day to celebrate, for sure. A day to commence
… a day to say goodbye to yesterday’s struggles, hello to bright and buzzing
futures … and for parents to plan what to
do with that extra space left in the beehive, now that their newly minted graduate will soon take flight for
University. Yes, life is looking like
the perfect honeycomb as a fine mist of orchid scent dances with the celebratory
air waves. The only thing left to do is
patiently hum to the rhythms of a commencement speech to be delivered by the
renowned explorer and scientist, Dr. BeezsKneezs, a former graduate of BeeWise High.
Commencement Speech
delivered by
It is truly my honor today to buzzzz before you … Superintendent
Honey Bee, Principal Orchid Bee, families, friends, distinguished guests and the
Graduating Class of BeeWise High. Your
overwhelming love and respect for me and the life that I have forged upon
completing my studies at BeeWise High have sustained my moments of despair and
the exciting times of exuberant glory. This afternoon I share in your
excitement as you each will turn a page in the next chapter of your young
unchartered lives … it is your life, not mine; it is your energy, not mine; it
is your remaining time, not mine; it is your shining light, not mine … it is
your time to pave the course that only
you can travel.
Then, one day as I hummed at my favorite Beeswax Coffee Shop, I saw a flier on the wall of the honeycomb
advertising trips to Antarctica, the lost continent of bee existence. Bee the FIRST to explore this continent of
ice and subzero beauty! Bee the FIRST to participate in scientific experiments
of bee life on Antarctica! Bee BRAVE!!!! I buzzed home to make my grand announcement
to my parents … I am going to be the FIRST bee to ever land on the continent of
Antarctica! Needless to say, my parents
were horrified. Travel to a place where no bee has been before … the temperatures alone
will kill you … what is wrong with you … no, absolutely not!!! But, with the help of my science teacher,
Mizzz Buttercutt, we were able to convenience my skeptical parents that this
was the exact adventure for my gap year and that the necessary precautions
would be taken to protect my buzz life.
Fear became my friend, not a feared enemy.
Confidence was a steady companion of my friend, Fear; always
coming to visit with each new conquest.
The big buzz of victory was in the success of teamwork.
Passion of heart is God’s way of paving our intended buzz purpose
on this lifetime journey.
Treat others with respect as you would want to be treated.
Great heights of achievement are worthy when balanced with
love for family, friends and beekind.
Seek the mysteries of the unknown for the answers to help
others.
Do good, bee good and live healthy so to serve a higher
purpose than yourself.
Knowledge is powerful and to be revered … use it wisely.
Climb the corporate honeycomb, if that is your desire, but always
carry integrity, trust and character in your portfolio of life skills and
knowledge.
Pay forward all the good that you experience and share the
worthiness of your failures.
Love is the first, last and the in between to what matters
in a life well spent.
Bee the best that is You, not some other bee, YOU! God loves YOU … honor this precious gift and
cherish with respect by paying it forward to the universe.
To the Class of BeeWise High School Graduates, may the lessons
learned from my gap year be my gift that
will serve you in your own unique lifetime adventures. Peace and love are the measures of value in each
individual pursuit of our perceived heights of greatness -- no matter the size
of the quest. Let your uncharted course
be the pathway that will serve the universal goodness and glory for all.
Thank you and happy buzzing, my kindred spirits.
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The Flying Bejeweled Fragrance Collector
written by
dedicated to my niece
by nature
June 12, 2016
The season is summer and the hum in the hot humid subtropical
air is not the flight of a bumble bee, but that of the flying bejeweled fragrance collector – known as the orchid bee. Why
should I bring this fact to your attention or single out one family of bees
over another, you may question? A bee is a bee … some sting and some do not …
some enjoy the comforts of a beehive and some do not … some are exquisite and
some are not … some are the mysterious flamboyant flying jeweled in color
fragrance collectors and pollinators of orchids and some are not.
I simply like the beauty and charm of orchids. I love the
imagery of a mystical fragrance floating on the wings of essential oils. The classical narrative hidden deep in the feminine
charms of nature’s botanical wonderland is cause for one to daydream. A scene for a summer movie is primed … fleeting
lovers, the orchid and the orchid bee, dancing the tango of nature’s lure … oh,
what will ever happen. Check it out at
your leisure – I strongly encourage you to explore the life and times of this gorgeous
bee species. The Internet is a treasure trove
of facts about this perfume-seeking little flying creature.
I latched on to the bee theme, and started my research … with
the hum of excitement at every mouse click, I stumbled upon the orchid
bee! Such beauty I had never seen before
in a bee. Then, I learned the orchid’s
nectar of enticement is their fragrance and essential oils … the bee’s knee of attraction. Before the
poor orchid bee knows what has happened, it may find itself swimming in the orchid’s
coy waters of fragrances and oils … the rest is a story for the novella of brief
interludes.
One of the facts I discovered during my bee research is that
the Antarctic is the only continent that bees do not inhabit. I can’t say I blame them … why does one want
to invade the land of frozen waters and zillions of degrees below the freezing
mark … not me for sure! So, now I have
the hook for a children’s story, maybe.
The first bee to ever land on the ice cubes of Antarctica. How did the bee get to the Antarctic? Why did the bee want to go to the Antarctic
in the first place? What was the bee thinking?
What species of bee … orchid bee, of course! What did the bee do once landing on the
shores of Antarctica? There are floating
research labs populating the Antarctic … did the bee find a home on one of the
ships? If so, what are the scientific experiments
happening on these boats of discovery?
How about orchids … like the bee, there are no orchids growing in the
cold of the Antarctic. But, could there be orchids growing in a tropical hothouse of sorts on one of those floating boats?
Maybe the orchid and orchid bee form a bond that could save the emotional
universe? Did I mention the maze of
DNA? What if the fragrances and
essential oils of the orchid wrap themselves in the leggy arms of the orchid
bee … maybe the orchid bee spreads the love to more than another orchid ...
like maybe the world of DNA? Where could
this lead … good things or bad?
Thank you, my niece by
nature, for planting the buzz. J
Stay tuned, my kindred spirits … the plot thickens!!!
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Two-Year Old has Funky
Day … imagine that
written by
Jeannette Zink
Adalyn Grace is my remarkable soon-to-be two-year old
great-niece. She is happy on most days
and brilliant every day. But, there are
those rare occasions when her life is just not too perky; in fact, it is more
along the scale of funky. Adalyn reacts
to the funky times in a number of ways … cries, which breaks all of our hearts
near and far, falls asleep while eating her Cheerios,
zones in on one of her electronic games or gets lost in the cartoon on
television or the book resting on the floor.
Other times, she may express her dismay more through her mighty strength
vocal chords. Regardless the means of articulation,
everyone is made aware that Adalyn is just not a happy camper. Faced with this quandary, Adalyn’s amazing
mother will ask inquiring questions to ascertain the source of Adalyn’s dismay,
and explore options for the perfect remedy to relieve the distress that dared
to wander within the world of Adalyn Grace.
One such evening when Adalyn was so sad that her
mother patiently inquired as to the reasons for Adalyn’s sorrow. The reason was so dear … Adalyn’s heart was
simply sad that her daddy was not home to play with her. With such grace and love, Adalyn’s mother
assured Adalyn that her daddy would be home soon, and that before she knew it
she would be in the loving arms of her daddy.
They would run and play, and daddy would chase after her trying to catch
all her hugs and kisses.
The other day I found myself in one of Adalyn’s funky
moods. I couldn’t quiet put my finger on
the reasons or the why-for this
momentary diversion of a mostly happy disposition. The sky was beautiful and the rain had
finally ceased for a few moments, work was good, home and family were all doing
well, and I felt in relative good health.
So, what’s the deal … why the funk?
Then I started to imagine if I
were Adalyn, and what could possibly get me in a state of funk.
Silly … maybe, but then isn’t it
the small things in life that multiply over time inside our head – isn’t it
really all about the seemingly insignificant actions – a smile or a kind jester;
spelt milk or missed train -- that can take us to the brink of contentment or
the valley of melancholy. The big stuff,
like winning the billion-dollar lottery, does not happen on a daily basis; but,
what does happen daily is the smaller stuff … the love and respect of each
other; the hugs and kisses of a child for her loving parents … don’t sweat the small stuff, depends …
it could be good sweat and could add up to the makings for one fine day!
Just imagine if
you were Adalyn Grace and having one of those funky days … why not chase after hugs
and kisses, and don’t sweat the funky stuff … it worked for our precious Adalyn
Grace … maybe it will work for all of us.
Let’s give it a try when the next funky day strolls in for a visit. Just imagine,
my kindred spirits.
Peace and love, and here’s to that one perfect cappuccino!!
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my blogs:
Night came Dressed
written by
May 27, 2016
… night came dressed
in rays of incandescent light;
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my blogs:
i heard your stare … and turned
around
written by
Jeannette Zink
May 27, 2019
There are times when
I can no longer carry the burden of my shortcomings.
I can only give
thanks for your grace.
There are times when
I stand in wonder at the life you have provided me.
I can only give
thanks for your grace.
There are times when
I cry tears of joy for the beautiful vistas you have prepared for all.
I can only give
thanks for your grace.
There are times when
friendship arrives just in the nick of time and on the cusp of my despair.
I can only give
thanks for your grace.
There are times when
your glory is the answer and the reason.
I can only give
thanks for your grace.
There are times, there
are days and there are moments when gifts are left on the doorstep of my life.
I can only give thanks
for your grace.
There are times when
I do not deserve yet receive love.
I can only give
thanks for your grace.
There are times when
I heard your stare … and turned around.
I can only give
thanks for your grace.
There are times when
all I need to do is simply turn around.
I can only give
thanks for your grace.
Thank You
Thank You
Thank You
As
Intended to Be
written by
Jeannette Zink
March 15, 2019
I looked into
his eyes
and saw a land
of enchantment.
I looked into
his heart
and saw a life of contentment.
I looked into
his soul
and saw more than could be told.
I looked into
his spirit
and saw greatness to behold.
I looked into
his world
and saw a
graceful peace.
I looked into
his future
and saw a grand masterpiece.
Yes …
I looked;
he saw;
and now,
we both can see
…
a life as
intended to be.
What if The Little Engine couldn’t or didn’t want to …
written by
Jeannette
Zink
July 14,
2018
I have
always loved the children’s book, The
Little Engine That Could. The rhythmic and reaffirming – I think I can. I think I can. – has gotten me over many a bumpy road throughout the gravel
pits of life. Then, of course, when victory prevailed, and accomplishments were
achieved, I rejoiced in a loud and mighty confident voice … I thought I could. I thought I could!
So, now that
I have more spare time to ponder the what
if questions that float through my retired status universe. I took on the
mighty and weighty questions that now come to light as I re-read this beloved
children’s story. For example, …
What
if my beloved The Little Blue Engine couldn’t or even more devastating – didn’t want to -- puff, puff, chug, chug its way over that monster
mountain towing the broken engine filled with toys and good food for the
children on the other side. What if
it was just simply too much for The Little Blue Engine, no matter all good
intentions and good karma mindfulness.
What
if fear was stronger than bravery for The Little Blue Engine; after
all, “over the mountain” was a new and foreign land for The Little Blue Engine.
What
if the toys had never morphed magically into their life-like persona.
Who would have told the story, who would have negotiated with the other trains,
and who would have convinced The Little
Engine That Could that it could serve a higher purpose in life
than to switch out other trains … I ask you, who???
What
if the funny little toy clown had been the negative type with
absolutely no leadership skills.
What
if the toys had garnered their energies and ingenuity to repair the
broken little Number 7 train. What if they had not relied on the
benevolent heart of the smaller and less equipped Little Blue Engine.
What
if the Shiny New Passenger Engine or the Big Strong Freight Engine or
the Rusty Old Engine had just completed the train company’s sensitivity program
and saw opportunities to help others as a blessing and not an annoying inconvenience.
What
if the children on the other side of that monster mountain were no
longer there because their families had moved to another village with better
employment prospects.
What
if we were kinder and gentler with the caring hearts to serve others …
would we need this story.
What
if we were the joyful toys and the good food that fed the hearts and
souls of the universe.
What
if we were The Little Engine That
Could … in all its glorious Can-Do
persona!
What
if we are now The Little Engine that thought, could and did … oh, what a beautiful place that
would be.
What
if we could now tell a different story because we are much better today
than we were yesterday and will be tomorrow.
What
if The Little Engine That Could
had never been conceived, written and illustrated because there was never a
need to tell this story.
What
if …
There is a
mystical gracefulness in the stories that remain with us from our childhood.
They are the fantastical wand that with one wave can take the unbearable and
mysterious dark corners of our lives and shine the rays of reassuring light …
the relief and hope that we can and will make it over each monstrous mountain
on the brave wings of our faithful Little Blue Engine.
What
if …
The need for
The Little Engine That Could be
simply to remind us that there is always a way to the other side of kindness if
we climb the steps of desire with a caring heart, cast our fears and doubts on
the sideline and believe we can and will be better than we were yesterday.
What
if …
To know and
learn from The Little Engine That Could
will hopefully pave the way to a better way that holds in wait for us … we just
need to make the effort … just like The Little Blue Engine.
What
if … my kindred spirits … what if.
maybe the Question should be ….
written by
Jeannette Zink
January 14, 2018
There are re-occurring questions that seem to
enter the conversation I may be having these days. They go something along the
lines … Congratulations on your retirement. What are your plans now that you
have retired? Are you staying in the area? I bet you are going to do some
traveling and see the world, right? Tackle that bucket list? So happy for you … best wishes.
I have always been an overachiever. So, I have
at the ready my prepared responses to these inquiring questions. Yes, indeed, I
do have plans …. After all, I did not retire on a whim – I thought it all out;
did research; measured each pro and con; met with retirement counselors; talked
with financial-like folks; and, even visited retirement communities; plus, made
an inventory of my hobbies and continuing education options. Ask me your
typical question when it comes to the chit-chat of retirement, and I will
provide the answers to your well-meaning questions.
But, maybe these are not the questions to be
asked … maybe the more important question to ask is the one that is tucked
secretly away inside the stairwell of our soulful heart. The one that gives me
more of a challenge and that higher degree of fortitude to climb one more level
of exploration. That question being, “What do you want to reclaim from your
youth … now that you are retired?”
To answer this question is not hard for me, it
is the courage to implement the answer that seems daunting to this 69-year-old
retiree. You see, somewhere along the way, I lost the courage to be brave … to take those bold steps that
in my youth were scary, but I did them
anyway. Here are just a few of (at
least for me) my youthful high-flying trapeze acts:
In
my late twenties, I left all familiar safety nets of family, friends and
homeland to move from my birth state of Oklahoma to the foreign land of New
Mexico.
While
living in my adopted landscape of New Mexico, I ventured across the bridge of New Mexico to Old Mexico – Juarez (on more
than one occasion) ... dancing the night away with the love of my life to the
disco crystal ball tunes of Donna Summers.
Traveled
solo to Europe on a 17-day TWA tour.
Career
goals led to moves from Oklahoma to New Mexico to Dallas to Washington, DC to
Houston to Midwest USA back to Dallas and then finally back to Washington, DC …
traveling solo on all these career-ladder junkets.
Bought
4 homes and sold 3 … all by myself.
Traveled
all over the country … sometimes driving solo late at night in all kinds of
weather conditions and interesting terrain.
Like I say … these were courageous acts for me
and ones that would surely give me pause today. Yes, I was once BRAVE and took
calculated risks that now warm my heart as memories protected by yesteryear’s joie de vivre. I want to rediscover my
bravery … the courage to dare age and logic when the rational mind whispers the
what-ifs of potential life road-bump disasters.
I have purchased all kinds of security
blankets -- insurance policies, long-term health care, AAA for roadside
assistance, mobile phone and charger, check for water pipe links each morning
and evening, and have saved for the inevitable rainy days. So, what is stopping
me from reclaiming my once cherished and youthful BRAVERY?
I tell you, my friends, life experiences can play havoc on the road to tomorrow’s age-proof
brave next steps. I want to be brave and do those things on my bucket list; I
want to toss caution over the shoulder of risky business and do it anyway; and
I want to be responsibly irresponsible (within
limits). I want to find my brave joie de vivre, again!
So, there we are … the question for me is not
what I will do in my retirement … but, will I find the BRAVERY to do all the
things that I would love to do … as I once did in my youth?
Does Amazon
sell safety nets for joie de vivre?
Stay tuned …
Zigzag Dot Pattern
written by
Jeannette Zink
January 11, 2018
January 11, 2018
When I was between my freshman and sophomore year in college, I struggled to declare a major. My freshman counselor offered little support with my dilemma and the inspiration switch of my mental light bulb had not flipped on, yet. So, I sat on the floor of my bedroom and started to leaf through our family’s set of door-to-door salesman Encyclopedia Britannica. It was the late 60’s and there was no Internet or Google to lean on … just the hard cover weighty books arranged in alpha order and housed in our hallway makeshift library.
It was by sheer accident that I stumbled upon the topics of fashion coordinator, fashion illustrator, and fashion designer. The light bulb was beginning to blink … that’s it!!! I will be a fashion illustrator and designer. I love art; I love fashion; and design is like the perfect icing on this career choice major. That’s It … case closed … decision made … course set … I now had a path to follow and a purpose for the costly expense of a college education. The dots were now connected! Or were they …
Fast forward to the summer of my junior year when my parents suggested I apply for financial assistance after reading an article in the newspaper. I completed the necessary forms and was awarded Federal Work Study. The job that I ultimately secured was in the campus Personnel Office assisting the Work Study Coordinator. I LOVED my job of helping other Work Study students find a job. It was in helping others that I truly did feel that spark of passion for my intended purpose. Just one problem … I was too far along in my declared major to switch gears and pursue a program in personnel administration. My well-planned dots were beginning to disconnect by the snippets of my newly discovered passion.
Fortunately, as the saying goes, where there is a will there is a way – my beloved Work Study Coordinator took me under her wing and navigated a course that would forever change my life. I graduated at mid-term and there was no option but to find a job. There was indeed a job in the campus’ Office of Student Financial Assistance. Scholarship Clerk paying a whopping $1.97 per hour. “Why not apply … it will do until something better comes along,” reasoned my Work Study Coordinator. I did apply and was selected for the job. Just a job until something better comes along … I can still hear those words echoing in my mind after recently completing a 45-year career in the field of federal student financial assistance.
I was fortunate to pursue this career path through several different landscapes. However, no matter the vista, it always fueled my unwavering desire to help others -- just as I had been helped back in the dark ages of typewriters, mimeograph machines and hard covered books.
The beauty of connecting dots -- the pattern does not have to be a straight-line design. In fact, a zigzag pattern renders an interesting design much as the rhythm of a passionate heart when pursuing the intended purpose of one’s life.
Speaking of the zigzag dot plotter … I never forfeited my love of the arts through the years. The passion for helping others was always woven with hints of a paint brush casting a glow of possibilities for those pursuing and supporting the dream of a higher education.
Funny how the dots in our lives find a way to connect if we stay open to interesting patterns.
Wish I’d Known
written by
Jeannette Zink
December, 2017
Sometimes I hear people speak with tones of remorse as they stroke their crystal ball with the mystical whispers of “wish I’d known.” It is as if their yesteryears lacked the clarion voice of today’s acquired wisdom. I guess my psyche travels in a slightly different circle of thought … let go of baggage claimed yesterday, benefit from today’s procured insight, and grab hold of tomorrow’s bold new opportunities … that’s my motto. But, just for fun let’s take a quick merry-go-round look-see at a time long ago when first I stepped foot on the ladder of my now 45-year career. Back in the olden days when I viewed my career as nothing more than a “job” to earn money, my wisdom could best be described as “evolving” and my sense of urgency to make well-informed and thoughtful decision danced a whimsical tune of throwing caution to the winds of whatever. So, if I had known then (job epoch) what I know now (career epoch) … wish I’d known… back in those olden days … what erudite nuggets would have informed my naïve blithe yesteryears:
1. Career ladders are intended to have wobbly steps … don’t try to skip, leap or skirt any step … they promote tomorrow’s wisdom and today’s character. Cherish each step of the tears, struggles, and victories as they prepare you for the goals you will strive to achieve throughout your career.
2. Failures are disguised gifts – when unwrapped we find inside an exquisite wealth of knowledge. Think of failures as a soft opening to the many successes that are destined to follow. Learn from each experience as you prepare for your GRAND OPENING!
3. The sandbox of my youth would become the space for creative problem solving and new discoveries for all the future “what-if” questions. Pens, calculators, computers, tablets replacing my crayons, paints, brushes and sandcastles … but not the creative spirit to find answers hidden inside the doodles etched on a once blank page. Play with the grains of exploration without the filters of fear and doubt washing away your shoreline of “what-ifs.”
4. My fears of success and failure were grounded more by the desire to be right than not wrong … right = success / wrong = failure … or so I thought. Wish I’d known that being wrong would lead to far more success and refreshing happiness. I have learned more from being wrong than I ever learned from being right. Guess I was wrong trying to be perfectly right.
5. Perfectionism is a waste of time. Wish I’d known this little gem a loooong time ago! Do not aspire to be perfect, aspire for excellence and dust around the messy parts. My first grade teacher applauded my ability to always color between the lines. It was only after tip toeing outside the lines that painting and learning took on a rainbow scape of lifetime knowledge. Spend your hours outside the line of perfectionism … it will be your best investment of time, energy and effort.
6. Work hard for the money, as the song goes. With all due respect to the songwriter, I suggest a slight modification to the words of this song. I’d say work smart, work with dedication, work with excellence, work with integrity, work with stewardship, and work with respect for others … working hard and long hours may make great song lyrics, but does not score star points for a stellar career.
7. Wish I’d known … Get a life! A career and the success of that career are much like your favorite pie. There are basic ingredients that are needed for any pie just as there are basic expectations in the workplace. There are also unique ingredients that set your favorite pie apart from others just as there are skill sets and individualism that give you a unique voice and contributions for the workplace. In the making of the pie and in the making of a career, there are equal parts: ingredients, mixing, baking, and a cooling period. Bon appétit. Pies and careers are best made with each part given balanced attention. And, by all means … Get a life!
8. Hierarchy reign and office politics … Game of Thrones in the workplace. As much as I would prefer to skip over this phenomenon of gamesmanship and organizational culture, I will remove my rose-color glasses and declare without dramatic gesture the existence of both. Learn as much as you can early in your career the rules of engagement and tactical maneuvers of these team sports. Wish I’d known how valuable these games are in the professional setting and in the personal off-Broadway production of our lives. The language, rules and expectations of these games are rarely included in the academic curriculum … look instead for an on-the-job mentorship to explain these facts of life and/or check out the business section in your local library. Wish I’d known sooner rather than later how to play the game.
9. Strong bridges, sturdy fences and the janitorial team …. The infrastructure of my career could have fallen apart on numerous occasions. The links that averted such professional disasters were the bridges erected and sustained at the hand of collegial respect, fences constructed for demarcation of space rather than silo kingdoms, and a janitorial maintenance team clearing the way for new beginnings. Do Not Burn Your Bridges, Good Fences Make Good Neighbors, and the Janitor May Be Your Next Boss -- sage offerings that are as true today as they have been throughout the ages.
10. Can’t see the forest for the trees … Some may see only the forest, while others may only see the trees, and then there are those who see the overall forest and the minutiae within the forest -- trees, plants, underbrush and waterfalls … It comes down to how one may approach professional challenges. The correct approach is the one that works best for you and the one that works best to achieve a common goal. Just keep open to multiple ways of seeing the landscape.
11. Know when it’s time to move on …. There are road signs to guide the journey you choose to take in life. Heed the road signs, my friends. More than likely, the most important road sign you will ever know intimately is the one that is invisible to everyone, except to you. I refer to your homegrown instincts … the sixth sense of cloudy answers and insecure next steps. There have been times when I was very happy with the status quo of my career. Yet, my inklings and the clearly marked road signs were beckoning me to take bold new adventures. The message delivered through this vessel of abstract delivery is as valid as any formal written communiqué. Respect the nudge and pack your bags … it’s time to move on!
12. Golden Rule …. Treat others as you would like to be treated. Know it, do it and be it … the person that follows the Golden Rule. Your life will be enriched and those that find themselves within your circumference will forever be changed by the wisdom it carries and the grace that it bestows.
These are my erudite nuggets that I share with you – ponder if you wish with a grain of salt. Perhaps these nuggets may not fit into your schema of life, but just in case … pause to consider as you meander your way toward each new goal and remarkable achievement.
May we each find joy in our lifetime journey … forever made stronger and wiser from the gifts that came wrapped within each challenge, failure and success.
As for me, the road sign is distinct and well-marked … now is the time for me to grab hold of tomorrow’s bold new opportunities!
Bon appétit!
2. Failures are disguised gifts – when unwrapped we find inside an exquisite wealth of knowledge. Think of failures as a soft opening to the many successes that are destined to follow. Learn from each experience as you prepare for your GRAND OPENING!
3. The sandbox of my youth would become the space for creative problem solving and new discoveries for all the future “what-if” questions. Pens, calculators, computers, tablets replacing my crayons, paints, brushes and sandcastles … but not the creative spirit to find answers hidden inside the doodles etched on a once blank page. Play with the grains of exploration without the filters of fear and doubt washing away your shoreline of “what-ifs.”
4. My fears of success and failure were grounded more by the desire to be right than not wrong … right = success / wrong = failure … or so I thought. Wish I’d known that being wrong would lead to far more success and refreshing happiness. I have learned more from being wrong than I ever learned from being right. Guess I was wrong trying to be perfectly right.
5. Perfectionism is a waste of time. Wish I’d known this little gem a loooong time ago! Do not aspire to be perfect, aspire for excellence and dust around the messy parts. My first grade teacher applauded my ability to always color between the lines. It was only after tip toeing outside the lines that painting and learning took on a rainbow scape of lifetime knowledge. Spend your hours outside the line of perfectionism … it will be your best investment of time, energy and effort.
6. Work hard for the money, as the song goes. With all due respect to the songwriter, I suggest a slight modification to the words of this song. I’d say work smart, work with dedication, work with excellence, work with integrity, work with stewardship, and work with respect for others … working hard and long hours may make great song lyrics, but does not score star points for a stellar career.
7. Wish I’d known … Get a life! A career and the success of that career are much like your favorite pie. There are basic ingredients that are needed for any pie just as there are basic expectations in the workplace. There are also unique ingredients that set your favorite pie apart from others just as there are skill sets and individualism that give you a unique voice and contributions for the workplace. In the making of the pie and in the making of a career, there are equal parts: ingredients, mixing, baking, and a cooling period. Bon appétit. Pies and careers are best made with each part given balanced attention. And, by all means … Get a life!
8. Hierarchy reign and office politics … Game of Thrones in the workplace. As much as I would prefer to skip over this phenomenon of gamesmanship and organizational culture, I will remove my rose-color glasses and declare without dramatic gesture the existence of both. Learn as much as you can early in your career the rules of engagement and tactical maneuvers of these team sports. Wish I’d known how valuable these games are in the professional setting and in the personal off-Broadway production of our lives. The language, rules and expectations of these games are rarely included in the academic curriculum … look instead for an on-the-job mentorship to explain these facts of life and/or check out the business section in your local library. Wish I’d known sooner rather than later how to play the game.
9. Strong bridges, sturdy fences and the janitorial team …. The infrastructure of my career could have fallen apart on numerous occasions. The links that averted such professional disasters were the bridges erected and sustained at the hand of collegial respect, fences constructed for demarcation of space rather than silo kingdoms, and a janitorial maintenance team clearing the way for new beginnings. Do Not Burn Your Bridges, Good Fences Make Good Neighbors, and the Janitor May Be Your Next Boss -- sage offerings that are as true today as they have been throughout the ages.
10. Can’t see the forest for the trees … Some may see only the forest, while others may only see the trees, and then there are those who see the overall forest and the minutiae within the forest -- trees, plants, underbrush and waterfalls … It comes down to how one may approach professional challenges. The correct approach is the one that works best for you and the one that works best to achieve a common goal. Just keep open to multiple ways of seeing the landscape.
11. Know when it’s time to move on …. There are road signs to guide the journey you choose to take in life. Heed the road signs, my friends. More than likely, the most important road sign you will ever know intimately is the one that is invisible to everyone, except to you. I refer to your homegrown instincts … the sixth sense of cloudy answers and insecure next steps. There have been times when I was very happy with the status quo of my career. Yet, my inklings and the clearly marked road signs were beckoning me to take bold new adventures. The message delivered through this vessel of abstract delivery is as valid as any formal written communiqué. Respect the nudge and pack your bags … it’s time to move on!
12. Golden Rule …. Treat others as you would like to be treated. Know it, do it and be it … the person that follows the Golden Rule. Your life will be enriched and those that find themselves within your circumference will forever be changed by the wisdom it carries and the grace that it bestows.
These are my erudite nuggets that I share with you – ponder if you wish with a grain of salt. Perhaps these nuggets may not fit into your schema of life, but just in case … pause to consider as you meander your way toward each new goal and remarkable achievement.
May we each find joy in our lifetime journey … forever made stronger and wiser from the gifts that came wrapped within each challenge, failure and success.
As for me, the road sign is distinct and well-marked … now is the time for me to grab hold of tomorrow’s bold new opportunities!
Bon appétit!
What Did I Do …
written by
Jeannette
Zink
December 17,
2017
Did I give
comfort when you needed the gift of just someone to listen?
Did I say
thank you when you shared your grace with me?
Did I give
back more than take of your generosity and kindness?
Did I respect
the beauty of who you are and not stand in the misguided steps of judgement of
who I thought you should be?
Did I offer a
gentle tissue of compassion for your tears of sorrow and tears of joy?
Did I walk
away when I should have found the path to walk toward you?
Did I make a
difference in the privilege of living in your world?
Did I answer
your call when others turned away?
Did my
existence offer positive energy to your universe?
Did I forgive
and make a way for second chances?
What did I do …
Hopefully, I did contribute in the
spirit of goodness; and,
hopefully, I did recognize my shortcomings and
will always strive to do much better; and,
hopefully, I, too, will be given the
gift of second chances.
Responders
written by
Jeannette
Zink
September
10, 2017
The first responder did not know our
name, age, beliefs, financial status, or anything else about us -- all they saw
was a fellow human in need and they simply responded without questions. All the
other responders who came after had no number assigned, but carried within their
hearts the infinite desire to aid those enmeshed by life’s more challenging
times.
These responders, with or without a
number, all came with a compassionate heart and indescribable strength to give of
themselves where others may have taken an easier path. They climbed the heights
of their own fears and carried us from the burning flames, held our hand when
the heart was not certain of the promised next beat, caught us when there was
no other way out, pulled us from the deep waters of despair, fought back the merciless
winds and soaring waves, and with each heroic act they gave us a second chance
at a life that was yet to be.
Glory and recognition are not the trophies
that a responder seeks, thank you is
not an expected exchange but meekly accepted, and compensation dressed in currency
and bonus would not be of value. The prize to be won by the responder is to know
the grace of every life and the gifts they readily shared with their fellow
sisters and brothers on a day when there was no one around.
May the responder’s defining moments be
few - for they are surrounded by pain and sorrow - but when the moments are within
sight, we give praise for their saving wings of generosity and the tireless acts
of their sacrifice for humanity. Our responder has risen to the pinnacle needs
of the once stranger who now holds tight their lifesaving hand.
It is with the gentle and reassuring blessings
of God that each responder provides the unconditional love and bravery for the
grateful soul in need. And, it is with these blessings we humbly thank our responder,
with or without a number, for walking a path far less traveled.
Blessings expressed with deep respect
and great gratitude for all who give to others in their dark hour of need.
You
may enjoy following my blogs:
The Face of Success
written by
Jeannette Zink
(originally written August 6, 2015)
Updated January 4,2017
My kindred spirits … I
originally wrote the following essay in August, 2015. I thought it might be
interesting to revisit my thoughts as the new year 2017 gently dances in to our
life. The Face of Success continues
to evolve for me as I learn from the gifts that are intended for my lifetime
story. The following is what I have been blessed to learn thus far…
I have decided to give success a face of expression. I have also decided that the question to be
addressed is not -- Where do I expect to
be in 5 years? It does not matter where I am on the landscape of this earthly
plane. What does matter is the defining
of success
for wherever I may find myself -- how does it look, what are its
feelings, does it have meaning bigger than the parts, will it bring good to the
universe … Yes, the more relevant question to be explored is -- What will success look like for me in 5
years?
The reflection I hope to see in the mirror of my tomorrow’s
future will have the features of a well-defined foundation for living a life of
success. This evolving life that is all
mine will have the necessary tools and descriptive vocabulary to measure the net
worth of my contributions and the expected benefits to the intended recipients…
this will be my worldly view of success.
So, where I choose to be, who I choose to befriend, and how I get from A to Z on my lifetime journey will be
evaluated against the weight of relevance to these thoughtfully examined success
values.
How to go about this rather lofty task of finding meaning
for an abstract concept of success is
the first challenge… lists are good, but what kind of lists. Perhaps I should first define what success does
not look like, maybe then I will find my way to what it does look
like … let’s try that approach, and see where it takes us.
Success does not
look like…
Big time job title
Big time box top in an organizational structure
Knowing the right people in “high places”
Awards, big bonuses, top of the pay scale and career ladder accomplishments
Winning in the game of office politics
High performance ratings
Successes far outweigh failures
Home, cars, clothes, and impressive residential address
Educational degree(s) and powerhouse resume
Worshipping other than the messages resting in your soul
Saying YES for the many times you really intended NO
Following a path that is not your intended purpose
Giving up on your dreams and the spirit of hope
Casting doubt on love when given unconditionally
Reluctant to just BELIEVE
So, what does success
look like, by my definition…
Do I love more, hurt less
Do I accept the me that is only me
Do I try new things without the fear of failure
Do I find the joy in just doing because it brings me
satisfaction
Do I laugh more; cry less
Do I have the love and respect of a family who accepts me with
all my flaws
Do I show and say love to those I cherish
Do I give without the expectation of receiving anything in
return
Do I accept being loved without conditions
Do I accept not being the best at whatever the perceived competition
Do I accept not being the center of attention
Do I accept my fragile and aging mind and body
Do I accept a helping hand graciously when needed
Do I graciously give a helping hand when needed
Do I accept that not everyone will love and accept who I am
Do I acknowledge and accept my mistakes
Do I believe and accept that God loves the imperfect me
Do I love me
Do I give back more than I take
Do I trust more than distrust
Do I value exploring the questions more than just finding an
answer
Do I laugh and giggle more than frown
Do I accept the pure beauty of holding hands with my
2-year-old brilliant great-niece
Do I say YES more than NO to the above…
If YES, then maybe this is the Face of my SUCCESS and the life I am intended on my lifetime journey!
My kindred spirits, may your exploration in defining your SUCCESS be the gift that will
sustain you more than golden coins and lead you on a path to your enduring truth.
You
may enjoy following my blogs:
The Mountain Lion, The Woodpecker, The Family of Foxes
and The White Hawk …
and, of course …The Gorilla
written by
Jeannette
Zink
January 1,
2017
I did not
expect my year of 2016 to end on such a pleasant note, nor begin 2017 of equal cheer,
given the wild adventures that took hold and refused to loosen their
lumberjack’s grip on this most exhilarating past year. In fact, as I think back
on the eclectic 365-day calendar and don my Ray-Ban
shades to shield the imaginative glare from the rambunctious year, my thoughts
turn to the genre of mythology and to legends woven into the mystical stories
told in books of folklore. These my literary compass for enlightenment and the milieu
for rationalizing societal accommodations for a game known as survival of the fittest. The gods of
myth and folklore seem to know just the right bell to jingle to set in motion a
swirl of hidden messages, clues as it were, to guide wandering souls to their
intended trek. These clues may not always be apparent and the mode of their
delivery may be as mysterious and slow-moving as the travels on the famed
Orient Express; but keeping our wits, the light ultimately shines on the
answers we seek.
It is only of late that I have begun to translate reason out
of clues sent to me in the form of wildlife … maybe an animal will cross my
path in a conversation, perhaps a sighting, even while exploring real estate
options, or claim stake to winter residence in my backyard shed. Each sent to
deliver a message. Bravely, I open the mailbox of discovery with an open mind
and loving heart, seeking the knowledge awaiting within.
For example,
I recently learned of mountain lions and
bobcats roaming amongst the comforts of the human landscape. Scary as that
seems on the surface, I decided to explore the mythological call of the wild,
and discovered that mountain lions carry themselves with the characteristics of
grace and power, and hold a positon
worthy of sacred by the Native American
Cherokee. This beauty of lions is adaptable and a generalist species; yet,
secretive and largely solitary by nature -- preferring to avoid humans. They
dine on big creatures -- deer and livestock – or, the smaller -- insects and
rodents. Their living conditions may be in the underbrush and rocky terrain, or
in the wide-open environment. In a word, flexibility
is the tune that this wildcat dances to as it zigzags through life’s daily
escapade.
While I may
fear this mighty lion of grace and beauty if ever we were to cross a common
path on our individual hot pursuit of one
life to live so make the best of it
trail, I would bow in awe to the mythological position garnered by the specie. The
drum of fear calmed by the attributes we all aspire to exhibit during our
weakest of moments … grace and power.
It may be said the mountain lion or bobcat did
indeed roam midst the humankind as we found the strength to stand tall with
grace and empowerment during our times of fear and uncertainty this past year.
I take this message delivered by such a beautiful creature, and will begin to build
a strong foundation to support the graceful and flexible walls of my evolving
goals and dreams. Thank you, mountain lion and bobcat, for crossing my mental
yard of awareness…now, go and play nicely in your own backyard.
Next up, the
woodpecker. Spring would not be
complete if it were not for this noisy little bird seeking with determination
the next goal to be met, the ambition to drill
to the other side, and utilizing every ounce of inexhaustible energy to create
a beautiful work of art out of an old piece of dead wood.
The word
“peck” does not quite fit the descriptive lexicon for the eardrum shattering
jackhammer drill imitation I hear outside my window on a lovely spring morning.
The neighborhood woodpecker is on the scene, and fast at work building an
elegant home worthy of the cover issue to Architectural
Digest; or, perhaps in pursuit of a delicious appetizer for the dinner hour.
Once the perfect circle has been “pecked” through to each side of the chosen
hollow dead piece of wood, a sense of calm is restored to our acoustic
environment. We are now free to return to our lower audible frequency levels of
daily lives with a sense relief that the woodpecker has completed their
intended task with success.
I was ready
to move on – let woodpeckers do their thing. I simply resign to wear ear plugs
until such time that the woodpecker has accomplished their deed. But, then I
started to consider exactly what the “deed” was all about for this little
pin-pointed bill of a bird. They are risking life and limbs to drill a hole in
wood to find food and make a home for their family. Think about the headache
they must have at the end of a day of wood drilling! Their little toes must
need a serious massage after hanging on for dear life to the tree bark as they
peck away at a determined hole. Pain and exhaustion be damn, persistence is the woodpecker’s middle
name, and they will not stop until the job is done! Never give up until you
have accomplished your mission is the woodpecker’s mantra. And, that my kindred
spirits, is my adopted mantra … even when it feels like I am batting my head
(bill) against brick walls … remember the woodpecker, never give up and drill
on!!!
My backyard
is a wellspring for wildlife preservation during the bitter winter months. I
should really be more specific – the shed in my backyard – is the preserving
source for a family of foxes. The
fox family has enjoyed the protective nature of the shed for the past few
years. It seems that the time for birthing and the winter season coincide with
this family, and they now know where I keep the secret key to my shed. I look
forward to the sighting of this family each winter. Anticipate with sheer
delight, the frolicking display of affection of their young, as each gingerly
come out from under the shed to play in the fading snow and dance with the early
spring appearance of daffodils. The cycle of life knows its way to my backyard,
and I am grateful for its perennial warming during the cold winter months. Don’t forget to put the key back in its
secret place, little foxes … it will be waiting for your winter sojourn.
White Hawk Up … I am in search of a new place to
call home for those tranquil days (years) of retirement. The residence that will support
my joie de vivre (joy of living) and yet
not a burden for those times when I travel the world of vagabond. This place to
house my jovial tomorrows is gradually beginning to find logistical definition,
and the square footage necessary to accommodate frequent visits with my loving
family plus the architect to buoy the artist and writer in my soul. It is as if
my first DRAFT is taking shape!
And, then …
without notice nor the slightest bit of commotion, a white hawk recently came floating on mythological wings to focus my
attention of a real estate development that spoke in a rhythm familiar to
longings meticulously listed on my musing wish list. In mythology, the white
hawk -- spirit animal with the power of observation – directs us to study a situation
before taking any action; and, then take discerned action, when the time is
right.
My white
hawk messenger arrived, message received by the student, and the gods of
observation now cast their focus in a pool of potential answers for my tomorrow’s
joie de vivre. Thank you, white hawk,
for the gentle nudge on to a steady path of possibilities, each revealing
answers deserving of deliberate action ... when the time is right.
Before I say
good-bye to this glorious first day of the 2017 New Year, I want to thank each human
and animal that took the time to drift my way in 2016, and for the messages each
graciously delivered to my mental mailbox. I cherish your caring hearts and pay
homage to the messages you have shared with me.
While I am
sure at times during this New Year, we will find ourselves faced with those big
hairy gorilla road bumps, I am
confident that we will pick ourselves up and together we will move forward … no
matter the size of the gorilla that dare to cross our path!
My kindred
spirits … remember the past with the amber glow of experience and look forward
to the future with the gorilla
strength of love and peace.
Joie de vivre in 2017 and for a lifetime!!!
You
may enjoy following my blogs:
Three Gifts One Wish
written by
Jeannette Zink
December 20, 2016
The good and the bad tend to travel
in 3’s. Just one of the tried and true mystical superstitions that I have heard
throughout time and/or read in a book somewhere. Most recently, I read in
Matthew the biblical interpretation of three wise scholarly men traveling by
the light of an eastern star to the town of Bethlehem to pay their respects to
the newly born child thought to be the King of Jews. The gifts brought by these
scholars were not toys, onesies, or diapers. No, the treasures were gold,
frankincense, and myrrh. Why would these
items be the carefully chosen offerings for the presumed crown King of Jews … a
baby male child just looking for a little love and some warm fresh milk … not perfume,
anointing oil or the valuable glam and sparkle of gold.
If one were to dig into the historical
pages of the biblical scholarly tomes, one would soon learn the relevance of these
specific gifts and pay honor to their equivalent of a Michelin gold star ranking.
The logic of these gems and the merits of their holistic medicinal properties
would give pause for a V-8 moment … of course, we would mutter, as we tap
our forehead. These gifts, meant for kings, were far more than exquisite luxury
items. They would prove in due time their capital worth that the local
pharmacist would bow to the treasure chest of their healing compounds and to their
divine meaning in the life of this precious child.
Wrapped in this cloak of knowledge, I
now turn my thoughts to the three gifts I would give in honor of those I
treasure on the stature found in the land of Kings and Queens. My gifts would
surely be snubbed by the worldly skeptics and the self-chosen elite. Their
worth undervalued in today’s market place; their usefulness cast to the bends
of the Salvation Army; and tagged for
the everyday common re-gifting pile. In other words, the “ugly Christmas sweater” would be the classification given to my
heartfelt gifts. Regardless, I will give these gifts with deep love. I know
with unquestioned confidence that my gifts will be measured in due time for
their invaluable worth. Even though, my gifts will be laughed at, scoffed and
ridiculed and circled in the mystery of the Magi gifts, there will be a moment
when it will make perfect sense to the intended recipients … that magical V-8 moment when the pieces will fit
perfectly into the life of those kindred spirits who open their hearts and souls
to these treasures.
Here a gifting we go …
Gift 1. Technology devices have their place on the
scale of importance ranking up there with Super Bowls, weddings, births,
inaugurals, good hair days and mega sales at Wal-Mart. Their prominence has grown over the years to that of
celebrity status. Who are you really if you do not have a device in hand and/or
on your lap? And, who are you if not constantly looking at said device? You are
no one … just a fading and marred antique waiting to be picked-up for the
consignment store. Who wants to be a worthless antique … not me, I want to fly
with the golden eagles. So, here is my
gift … I will love my devices and I will cherish their technological
wizardly; but when in the presence of the human/animal species, I will give my
full attention and emotional intelligence of engagement to these worthy species. This person/animal, who has honored me by
entering my sacred space, will see my eyes and know the sound of my
non-distracted voice. The human being (me) will be my device for communicating,
not technology. I come wrapped with a soul and spirit that will honor you with
my total attention. In short, I promise to be PRESENT … to SHOW UP!
Gift 2. My God-given life journey is mine,
not your journey. You cannot walk in my shoes nor travel down my trail. God
intended for this adventure to be mine … one that I would learn many lessons,
reap the rewards, cry tears of each challenge, overcome struggles with the
strength of a David and bow with humbleness to God’s mercy. It is through these
travels that I will find the trueness of the me that God intended, and the invaluable purpose of my walk on this
chosen travel itinerary. As is the case with most explorations, the outgrowth
of knowledge gained will render opinions and ideologies formed, beliefs
adopted, tolerances developed for an acceptance or rejection of behaviors and
lifestyles, and a soul that will take flight on the wings of tomorrow’s history
cradled in the memories of yesterday’s story. I will ultimately become the person that God always intended, but I
may not be the person you had hoped
for nor ever intended of me. My gift to
you is the respect to honor your journey and all the treasures you will find on
your lifetime travels. I promise that you will never find me standing in
the department store’s exchange line with the gift I hope you will have gladly
afforded me … your gift to cherish the God-given path that only I can and must
travel. Love will be our anchor; respect our light; and God our roadmap-maker
to the life we are each intended to find and to follow.
Gift 3. There
are times in life when you may find yourself in an emotional and/or intellectual
quagmire. The relationships stumbled into may run hot and cold; love and hate;
can’t live with them can’t live without them. World events may swing from the
drama of war to the placid rejoice of peace on earth. There will be times when
you may sit on top of your all-knowing judgmental pedestal or beg forgiveness for
your bad judgments and wrong-turn decisions. In any event, sooner or later you may
find yourself straddling the proverbial fence of “should I or shouldn’t I.” You
will ask yourself Socratic questions in search of the critical thinking of truth’s
answers … should I take that leap of faith and dive into the unknown world of the
brave or remain on the well-grounded fence of better safe than sorry. Evaluate will be the moniker given for
these times of “stalling” on this fence of indecision and fear while waiting for
perfection … when all answers are known, all facts are revealed, and everything
is just the way you want it to be … perfect.
What a quagmire of dilemmas you may find yourself! My gift to you is to tear down that fence and put on your wading boots.
The morass will be quite messy and you will get your hands dirty, but the water
and soap of the soul will make way for your newfound courage to face each
quagmire with determined faith in yourself. Just believe, my dear kindred
spirit, and see the wonder that will lead you on an unbelievable journey. Live
every moment of every day of your God-given life … don’t waste a second in the safety
heights above the quagmire! Make mud pies and drink sweet lemonade.
One Wish.
Please accept my gifts and make the most of each. They are given with deep love
and respect for you, my Kings and Queens. The value tendered on the scale of
gold, frankincense and myrrh and intended to serve you on your passage of a lifetime
journey that only you can travel.
Blessings and love, my kindred
spirits. Enjoy this most beautiful of time.
You
may enjoy following my blogs:
Life on the Ridge
written by
Jeannette
Zink
November 8, 2016
Every coin
has two sides, every story has 2 sides, every leaf has 2 sides, every muffin
has a top and bottom, every wish has a hope, and every life has ups and downs, usually … I think you get my drift. But,
kindred spirits, it is not the top and bottom or side A and side B that I opt
to hitch my wagon and ride off into the sunset of misty rainbow dreams.
In the
spirit of day’s events, I am here to campaign for the RIDGE. Yes, it is for the
RIDGE that I cast my vote. The RIDGE … strong, life-worn, intelligent,
creative, tried and true of character … my steadfast companion for when the
chips flip. The RIDGE is my lifeline rope that continuously ties the knot from the
page to page of an enlightened tomorrow. The RIDGE of matters is where I prove my
worth, where the tale is told, and where the whip cream on top of life’s coco makes
it all just a little bit more endurable when a range of reason may be a bit out
of focus.
Some may
choose to ride the wave, go with the flow, or draw their line in the proverbial
sand in times of change and turmoil. I tell you, the RIDGE is the place to be …
best seat in the house to ponder all the what-if’s
and maybe that’s. The view is so much
clearer and the air is fresher on the RIDGE. Just the other day, I was up on
the RIDGE – first time in a while – and it was wonderful. I saw things and
heard things on the RIDGE that I would have never experienced in the murky crevices
of life’s dilemma.
Yes, we did
have a lively debate, my RIDGE and I, but it was a respectful and thoughtful conversation.
The RIDGE offered suggestions, pros and cons, highs and lows of the issues. I,
in turn, lobbed every argument with the oh,
but’s strength of a left-brain sumo wrestler. However, I graciously admire and
lamentably admit that the RIDGE is so much smarter than me. It is with respect
that I bow to the master RIDGE, and take a look-see through loaned binoculars of
a future made from the insights gained on RIDGE mountain.
Kenny Rogers
and my RIDGE have something in common, each know when to “hold’em and when to
fold’em” when exploring the slippery slopes of human dealings. They both know
the rules of living the game. They both provide the foundation that will sustain
every decision encountered on a trek across the landscape of defining moments. Kenny
and my RIDGE know fairness and honorable standards must be engraved on both sides
of every coin, but the strong of character riding on the RIDGE of that coin is
the Master’s keeper and the bonding gel for every decision on a lifetime
journey.
Vote for the
RIDGE … today and every day. You will never regret your decision, I promise
you.
I rest my
case, kindred spirits. Peace and love.
You
may enjoy following my blogs:
Curbside chat with my
Soul
written by
Jeannette Zink
October 23, 2016
It was early, very early on a Monday morning when the train
arrived at Huntington Station. I boarded this very early train in my usual
automatic half-asleep mode. The seats vacantly awaiting my selection. With a
casual demarcation, I stake out my territory for the very early 30-minute ride
to our nation’s capital. The train car pleasantly toasty on this cold January morning,
for this I was immensely grateful. It was now my sacred time to rest my weary
early morning soul, disregard the quiet chatter of the other passengers and
dream of the day I could retire from this routinely stressful life.
Just as I was entering into that sleep state of
semiconscious and dreamland, I feel the essence of someone sliding down beside
me on this mostly empty train. Next, I vaguely hear words being spoken, as if
in the middle of a sentence with a good friend. “And, what are you doing with
your life today?” asked this character who had invaded my clearly marked space.
Since my eyes were closed and head leaned against the train’s frosty window, it
should have been a clarion signal to anyone that this is a Do Not Disturb area.
“Good morning, my lady, what do you plan to do with the rest
of your life?” asked the essence sitting next to me. “What did you say?” I
manage to mumble with as much disdain as possible, without being absolutely
obnoxious to my uninvited seatmate. “It’s a brand new day. I was just wondering
what you planned to do with your day. You must have something amazing planned
since it was given to you without any conditions.”
Just who do you think
you are, I want to say to this disturbing and inconvenient disruption to my
morning routine. But instead, I manage a
civil exchange … “Look, you may be in a pull
up a chair to the curb of my soul for a chat kind of mood, but I am not. I
respectfully ask that you go visit with someone else who would not object to an
early morning philosophical exchange of existentialism. Have a nice day.
Good-bye.”
“I could definitely move on,” said the phantasmagorical
nuisance denying me of my well-deserved quiet time. “But, you really need me
this morning. I am the one with the
answers you are desperately seeking.”
“Okay, I have tried to be polite, but you must leave me
alone, or I will call security!” “Go away, NOW!!!”
“I am so sorry to have bothered you this morning, my lady. I
want to leave you this very moment; I truly do, but I cannot.” “What do you
mean, you cannot?” I once again engage with this unpleasant thing sitting next to me.
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but I am attached to
you and cannot take flight like one of those planes at the airport that we just
passed. I am the gift you have been asking for each morning before you leave
your home. I am the answer.”
“Well, if you are the answer,
what is the question?” I play with
the vision at my side.
“You know, my lady. You ask God each morning to show you the
person you were intended to be and the path you are to travel. You ask God to
help you be a good person.”
“Are you trying to tell me that you were sent by God to
provide the answers to my questions and prayers?” I smirk to this thing that has unquestionably dismantled
my morning commute.
“You have elevated me far beyond my position in life, my lady.
I am not God’s FedEx service.” “I am
more like your wake-up call. You know … you wake up most mornings before your
alarm sounds, but the alarm goes off, anyway. You already know the time without
evening looking at the clock, but yet you let the alarm go off, anyway.”
“So, wake-up call,
what are you waking me up to?” I continue with the banter.
“I am waking you up to what you already know, my lady. God
has placed in your heart the answers that you seek. You just need to open the
proverbial door and step inside to greet the answers.”
Next stop, Union
Station in our nation’s capital … I hear the conductor announce.
“Good day, my lady. This is where we get off to start our
brand new day.” “The door is open … time to step through.”
I did step through the door on that very cold early Monday
morning January day, but not the same as I had begun on that morning’s journey.
I felt warm in my confidence that all the answers I needed were no longer
hidden in some mystical corner of the universe, but stood tall and in plain
sight within me. I just needed to open the door and greet each answer with
respect. The sigh of relief was not mine, but that of the answers that had been
begging me to release them from their place in wait … for me to open the door.
May your questions be the friend that waits by your side
until you find the courage to open the door and greet all the answers you will
ever need.
Peace and love, my kindred spirits.
You
may enjoy following my blogs:
The Raspberry Hour
written by
Jeannette Zink
October 9, 2016
The sun now rests on the waning magenta
and lavender rays of our daylight hours.
Time has scattered hither and thither,
as if raspberry swirls
on top this chocolate mousse of a day.
Secrets and regrets veiled in the aromatic
scents of our rosemary and thyme memories.
The nightscape soon to take lead role in the narrative of our fantasies
and tomorrow’s truths.
This is our raspberry hour when we pause
and self-evaluate the swirls of our day.
We search through misty fragments of
successes and failures,
and appeal to the gods of our maybe tomorrows –
well, maybe tomorrow I will do better.
Our sleepy eyelids lower with the
window shade of this day,
and we give thanksgiving for every single
great and small blessing.
We are now free to join the night in a
stroll made clear
by starlight beams and mystic dreams.
Yes, maybe tomorrow we will do better
and be so much wiser
before next we bow to our raspberry hour.
The universe gently wraps its loving arms
around our unsure soul, and
whispers lyrics of encouragement to a
weary spirit.
Come dance, beckons the nighttime
hour,
do not toss and turn with misery that come to
mind,
this the midnight gala and you the
welcomed guest.
Enjoy the party ... you are the guest
of honor.
Graciously, I thank you, gifts of the
night,
nurturer of my frustrations and
sorrows;
our time together a treasure well
spent.
Now, dear night; with deep respect,
I must release you and these rosemary and
thyme memories;
and, turn to greet the graceful light
of unconditional love
found inside each waiting God-given gift.
The sun will soon dawn and bravely I lift
the window shade on a brand new day.
Maybe today I will do better …
maybe today will be the day that I
shout courageously
on the tip toes of wonders and greatness.
Maybe this will be the day that I
share the best of me.
Yes, today will be that day …
before next we bow to our raspberry
hour.
Peace be with You,
on your pilgrimage
and
before next you bow
to the
raspberry
hour.
You
may enjoy following my blogs:
Life is never straight Forward
written by
Jeannette Zink
September 4, 2016
When a thing
is over, you simply pick up and move on. It’s that simple. Unless it’s not.
Unless the bits and pieces of the unfinished parts resist their assigned space
in our life. The leftovers … what to do with those pesky fragmented leftovers …
the mosaic pieces nicely broken in shapes that fit snuggly into a place hidden
until coming out for their midnight visits. The unwelcome guest knocking on our
door in the hours intended for respite of the weary soul.
The picture
perfect life encased within a beautiful frame. But, what about the fringe that
wait off-stage in the shadows … casually sliding into our photo shoot? What to
do with the fringe … the question sits uncomfortably in the backseat of our
emotional roller coaster ride.
The bits and
pieces of our life dangle from delicate threads, as if wind chimes swaying in
the breeze to a tune of allusive regrets and starlight dreams. Their music
float among the memories of yesterdays and the hopes of tomorrows. It should be
a time for rejoice, but the gods of incompleteness persist in the compartment
of unsettled business. The need to make
things right, before moving on with our life … before simply picking up and
moving on.
Life is
never straight forward and our desire to make things right is never easy. Here is the thing, my dear friends, when a
thing is over, it just may actually be over … we may not want
to see it, to accept it, but it may actually be where it needs to be … for now,
at least. So, don’t hold on to the past
and all the bits and pieces that don’t quite fit with the visceral picture of a
perfect life. There are many different
perspectives of a photo with the natural shadows and tones cast in the
background. We can use the techniques of
altering the imperfect and to align with our
concepts of perfection, but it then becomes our
manipulated image of perfection.
We want
people to like us, to love us, to be in agreement with us, to make our life
complete and perfect. That is what we
want, but what about the other people?
Does what we want fit with what the other people may want in their life … do all the want’s fit inside a beautiful mosaic
picture perfect life? More than likely
the answer is NO … sometimes, never, or
maybe just not now. This is an okay
place to be, actually. Hug, shake hands,
wish each other well … pick up and move on, for now. This is a wonderful gift
we can give each other.
Life is an
evolving universe allowing for growth and space to meet new vistas. Our wants are necessary to us, our needs
imperative to us and our right to be the person we were intended to be is God’s
gift to us. Let’s be brave enough to
share these gifts with others in our life … and, then pick up and move on. The universe will know when it is time to
revisit the place we may find ourselves to be … each day a renewal for love and
grace to find that picture perfect place.
Peace, my
kindred spirits … the picture is perfect, for now.
You
may enjoy following my blogs:
The Greeter
written by
Jeannette
Zink
September 2,
2016
The sign
outside a building I pass each morning reads –
Welcome, Come As You Are
I began to
wonder what could be inside this building that stands four walls tall;
reflecting
such beauty through windows of stained glass;
steeple
brushed by the tarnished colors seen each fall.
So, I
stopped one morning and went inside this familiar building that stood four
walls tall.
“Here I am,” I said at the
portal –
as if answering
the cries of a lost person’s call.
“Welcome,” I
heard you say, “please come in and rest this day, you have traveled so far.”
This is your home; you are not just a
casual guest.
Please, come, my friend,
take your place in this building made four walls tall.
The sun has now
risen many seasons since that morning I stopped
and went inside this building made four walls
tall.
Now, I greet
you, wandering traveler, you have come so far.
Welcome, Come As You Are
to this
place made four walls tall;
pillars
secured by loving grace.
This is your home and you are free to
roam;
free to be the person God intended
you to be.
Welcome, my friend,
Come As You Are,
you have traveled so
far.
You
may enjoy following my blogs:
Expect nothing in return … but, do it anyway!
written by
Jeannette Zink
August 7, 2016
If you are a parent, be the Parent of the Year in the heart of your
child.
Expect nothing in return … but, do it
anyway!
If you are a friend, be the best
friend the universe has ever experienced.
Expect nothing in return … but, do it
anyway!
If you are a leader, be the best example
of excellence that history will honor year after year.
Expect nothing in return
… but, do it anyway!
If you are the person behind the vision
of others, be the best maker of the vision … without your skills and knowledge,
the vision remains only an elusive dream.
Expect nothing in return … but, do it
anyway!
If you are the minister to the meek and
emphatic, each are in need of your guidance and wisdom.
Do not judge, do not ignore, do not assume,
and
do not leave behind the grace that was passed on to you.
Expect nothing in return … but, do it anyway!
If you are the reader of great works,
learn from the toil of the author and bow to their mastery.
Pay your respects to their gift that was
graciously shared for your enjoyment.
Expect nothing in return … but, do it
anyway!
If you are an artist, make the art
that touches your soul and then share it with the cosmos.
Expect nothing in
return … but, do it anyway!
If you take up space on this planet,
do good things and do it with love and respect for all.
Expect nothing in return … but, do it
anyway!
Just show up … we are all in need of
each other.
Expect nothing in return …
but, do it anyway!
Peace and love, my kindred spirits …
expect nothing in return, but do it anyway!
You may enjoy visiting my blogs:
Treasures of Tunnel Chatter
written
by
Jeannette Zink
July 24, 2016
I’m losing you … can
you hear me … we are going through a tunnel … hello … hello … ah, there you are
… what did you say … wait, we are going through another tunnel … hello … what
did you say … I thought you said something about ‘hate’ or was it ‘ate’ … here
we go again … talk with you on the other side …
The sad thing about picking up the tunnel conversation on
the “other side” of the tunnel is that it more than likely does not get any
better than the one you were having while "inside" the tunnel. That’s the way of
it with us human type. We really are
very poor listeners and even more challenged in the art of interpreting what we
think we just heard. Why is that, I wonder? Could the answer be entwined with the 24-hour
chatter going on inside our very preoccupied brain? The beauty of our rhythmic, poetic and sometimes prosaic words are continuously being lassoed by the demons we play
company with on a forever looping Ferris wheel of taken the wrong way words, disjointed sentences, or by the short
hand speak of social media.
You have probably seen it, and just decided to ignore the proverbial
“staring-in-your-face” signs … you know, the blank gaze after you have made
what can only be classified as the most profound statement, the disconnected
context in a dialogue exchange, the sudden need to check text messages, the
glance away so as to escape the next spoken words … the signs are always there
for us. The trick is to follow those signs through the next tunnel and come out
the other end with an awareness that the interruption was just a pause not a forever dropped line of communication … end of
conversation … silence, as if our words were chopped apart by a foreboding dark
passageway and never to be mended by that promise of a light at the end of the tunnel.
It occurs to me that perhaps the tunnel chatter is precisely the language we should adopt when faced
with uncomfortable conversations. The phrases … I’m losing you … Can you hear me … What did you say … Wait … Talk
with you on the other side … are the saving grace stop gap words that could
aide our unease in navigating the choppy waters of feelings, emotions and human
interactions … a means to wave a yellow flag and slow down the verbiage train
to avoid the unintended destructive wreck of a conversation. One that may
result in a life-changing relationship detour when years from now this exchange may never be remembered,
but will forever be felt.
The next time I talk the language of tunnel chatter or
experience the frustration of a difficult conversation, I am going to employ
the secrets of tunnels. Hit the pause button until reaching the other side of a
tunnel vision conversation … breathe between tunnels … and pick up my chosen
words on the other side when hopefully the light is shining brighter and my
thoughts are viewed from a clearer perspective – one that takes in to account the
person waiting at the other end of the tunnel chatter. Silence is golden at times, but love and
respect for each other is a lifetime worth of tunnel chatter.
Peace, my kindred spirits.
Travel with love and may you find value in the treasures gained from
tunnel chatter.
You may enjoy visiting my blogs:
Trailblazer Adalyn Grace
with Aunt Mae Bea and Maisee Beezee
(an Adalyn Grace
story)
written by
Jeannette Zink
July 9, 2016
Adalyn Grace
“Well, howdy partner,” said Adalyn Grace’s mother on this
fine Thursday morning. “Saddle up to the
old kitchen table and have yourself some of my special breakfast grub,” Sheriff
Adalyn Grace. “I must say you look
mighty cute in your western attire this morning, Miss, or I should say Sheriff
Adalyn Grace.” Dig in before the other
ranch hands come for their share of my superb cooking. “Mom, you are so funny
sometimes,” giggled Adalyn Grace.
“Just curious … why the western theme, Adalyn Grace?” asked
Adalyn Grace’s mother. “Well, Aunt Mae
Bea just got home from her trailblazing
trip to Antarctica,” said Adalyn Grace. “So, Maisee Beezee and I are galloping
over to see Aunt Mae Bea in our trailblazing
clothes to find out all about her trailblazing
trip!” “I see, said Adalyn Grace’s
mother, sounds reasonable to me. By the
way, what is a trailblazer?” “Good question, mom. Just the question Maisee
Beezee and I are going to ask Aunt Mae Bea!” “Well, have fun you two and give
Aunt Mae Bea my love.” “Will do,
partner,” laughed Adalyn Grace.
Sheriff Adalyn Grace and Maisee Beezee, Aunt Mae Bea’s pet bee,
saddled up their stick horse and moseyed on down the trail to visit Aunt Mae
Bea.
“Hi, Aunt Mae Bea!” “Welcome home
… Maisee Beezee and I are so happy to see you!!” How was Antarctica? Did you make new discoveries? What is a trailblazer? How can I be trailblazer? How do you like
our trailblazing clothes? Did you get
our texts all the way in Antarctica? “We have so many questions, Aunt Mae
Beas. Maisee Beezee and I have been
saving up all our questions … just waiting for your return and it is THURSDAY! You
remember Thursday is our day when all questions come out to play,” Adalyn Grace
said as she tried to catch her breath.
“Well, let me take a look at the
two of you! I have missed you so much, and all those fabulous questions of
yours.” “Love your western theme…very trailblazing,
indeed, smiled Aunt Mae Bea. Let’s sit in our special chair, and sort out all your
questions.” “PRIORTIZE!” laughed Adalyn Grace.
“First, thank you so very much, Adalyn
Grace, for taking such good care of Maisee Beezee,” said Aunt Mae Bea. “You did
a wonderful job caring for my precious Maisee Beezee while I was in Antarctica.
I am so proud of you, Adalyn Grace!” said Aunt Mae Bea as she gave Adalyn Grace
a gigantic hug. Maisee Beezee buzzed all
around Aunt Mae Bea and Adalyn Grace sharing her hugs and kisses, too.
“I just kept thinking … What would
Aunt Mae Bea do? … then I would do it!” said Adalyn Grace. “I wanted to be a trailblazer just like you, Aunt Mae Bea!” said Adalyn Grace.
“Let’s look up the word trailblazer, Adalyn Grace, and see what
we discover,” said Aunt Mae Bea. Adalyn
Grace loves books and the dictionary was one of her favorite books. The meaning of trailblazer is someone who
prepares the way for others who follow, read Adalyn Grace. “That’s definitely you, Aunt Mae Bea!” said
Adalyn Grace. “You are always showing me
how to do things so I can ‘take it to the next level,’” as you would tell me, Aunt
Mae Bea. “That’s right Adalyn Grace,” said Aunt Mae Bea. “It’s like taking care
of Maisee Beezee … I remembered what you would do and tried to follow in your
steps,” said Adalyn Grace.
“But, sometimes there are no
ready-made answers, Adalyn Grace.
Sometimes, you must find your own path to the answers to questions you
want to explore,” said Aunt Mae Bea.
“And, those very questions are the questions that someone else may also
be asking, but my precious Adalyn Grace is already preparing the untraveled path
to the answers … Adalyn Grace, trailblazer!”
“I see the spirit of a trailblazer in your joy to question and
in your bravery to try new adventures.
You have the heart and soul of a trailblazing
explorer, Adalyn Grace,” said Aunt Mae Bea.
“And, one day we will all learn from the trailblazing Adalyn Grace because she will have asked, explored and
discovered the answers to so many important questions!”
“I love our Thursdays, Aunt Mae
Bea, and I love you!” said Adalyn Grace.
“I love you, my trailblazing
Adalyn Grace!” said Aunt Mae Bea.
“Hugs and kisses, Aunt Mae Bea
and Maisee Beezee. See you next
Thursday!” Adalyn Grace said as she galloped off into the sunset.
Love you, buzzed Maisee Beezee …
all the way to next Thursday and back!!!
Bee theme inspired by Kandace
Dalcour.
Photo copyright © 2016 by Chealsie
Zink. 327 Photography by chealsie www.327photos.com/
Story copyright © 2016 by
Jeannette Zink.
All rights reserved.
You may enjoy visiting my blogs:
Playing with Questions on Thursdays
(an Adalyn Grace story)
written by
Jeannette Zink
July 5, 2016
Adalyn Grace is certain
of three (3) things and one (1) thing more on the rating scale of a maybe. Adalyn Grace knew without hesitation that a
wish could be caught with the blink of a star because she had chased after many
a starlight wish and had successfully caught every single one. She knew dreams took flight on the whisper of
a bee’s wings … there goes one now! But, the one thing Adalyn Grace knew with
profound assurance was the magic in Thursdays – the day when her questions all came
out to play. However, Adalyn was less certain of the necessity for the answers to her questions. So, she ranked answers a maybe … and, that became a subject to be questioned on one of her magical Thursdays.
Another reason Adalyn Grace enjoyed Thursdays was because this
was the day she would visit her Aunt Mae Bea. They had so much fun exploring
all the questions that Adalyn Grace had saved up for this special day. Aunt May Bea would listen very carefully to
all of Adalyn Grace’s questions, and help her to sort out her three (3) most
important questions for each Thursday’s visit.
Aunt May Bea was big on PRIORITIZING!
Today is Thursday and Adalyn Grace has so many questions twirling
inside her head! She can hardly wait to
start exploring her questions with Aunt Mae Bea. But, before Adalyn Grace can even begin to
ask her questions, Aunt Mae Bea has a question for her.
“Adalyn Grace, said Aunt Mae Bea, I am going to take a trip to
Antarctica in a few weeks, and I need for someone to watch after Maisee Beezee,
my pet bee.” “Would you be interested in
caring for Maisee Beezee for me?” “We
know from our studies that Antarctica is the only continent where bees do not
live. Maisee Beezee would not survive if I took her with me.”
Now, that is a QUESTION,
thought Adalyn Grace. “Do you think I am
old enough to take care of Maisee Beezee?” asked Adalyn Grace. Aunt Mae Bea smiled and told Adalyn Grace
that she was absolutely certain without
any hesitation that her precious Adalyn Grace was more than ready for this task.
“I have so many questions, said Adalyn Grace.” “What if I make a mistake and Maisee Beezee
flies away and never returns?” “What if
she doesn’t like me since I’m not you?” “What
if Maisee Beezee gets sick and I don’t know how to care for her?” “What if I
get sick and I can’t care for Maisee Beezee?”
“What if …”
Aunt Mae Bea put her hand up as if she were a big red stop
sign. “What are you trying to say with all
of your questions, Adalyn Grace?” “Your questions are really good questions,
Adalyn Grace, maybe we should search out the answers hidden inside your
questions. The answers are just as important as the questions.”
“You are right, Aunt Mae Bea, said Adalyn
Grace.” Let’s search for the
answers. “Now, I am certain answers are just as important as all of my questions!” said
Adalyn Grace.
Maisee Beezee buzzed with happiness that Adalyn Grace would
be caring for her. “See, Adalyn Grace,
Maisee Beezee is absolutely certain without any hesitation that you
will do a splendid job of taking good care of her!”
“I am absolutely certain
without any hesitation that I will be able to take care of Maisee Beezee!”
said Adalyn Grace. “No question about
it!” said Aunt Mae Bea with a twinkle in her eye.
“Questions are fun and help us to learn,” said Aunt Mae Bea. “Answers are a question’s lifetime companion …
like the prize inside the gift of each question. They need each other just as we need them to
help us make our best decisions, Adalyn Grace.”
“Thank you for believing in me, Aunt Mae Bea. I love you.”
“I love you all the way to Antarctica and back!” Aunt Mae
Bea said as she gave Adalyn Grace her best ever hugs and kisses.
Maisee Beezee buzzed and buzzed with joy, as if to say … What
another fun Thursday this has been!!!
Hide and Seek … Seek and Find … or something like that
written by
Jeannette Zink
July 2, 2016
I have searched high and low for something … that something I’m not even sure of; but, that
does not impede my search for this treasured something, which makes for an even greater challenge for that which
I seek. After reading this opening sentence, it takes me back to my studies of
the great literary salon of Gertrude Stein and the 1920s Paris … Rose is a rose is a rose.
Nonetheless, this
search of mine must continue until finding the very thing I’m in search of; and,
that which will most definitely and completely brim with satisfaction upon the something’s great discovery. This prized
token, hidden just around the fringes of the age old game – Hide and Seek, cloaked in mysterious riddles
and annoying rhymes, will make its appearance in due time – or so believe the
precious of innocent mind.
Perhaps, I will stumble upon this allusive something as I peel back the corners of each
maybe this or casually remember a maybe that in the musty old forgotten
archives of yesterday’s memories. If
only to stay the course, no meandering here and there, I tell myself, and you
will find that which you seek. Right,
that is the thing to do … stay the course. Don’t think so much; just let things happen,
just let that thing you pursue reveal itself … that will be the something you were chasing after, but were
never formerly introduced.
Seeking has
magical powers. It never has a need to map out an itinerary for the adventure
and discovery awaiting each undisclosed journey. And should you inquire of such
a schedule, please be prepared for a most unpleasant exchange between reason
and whimsy. I know this for a fact, as I
once packed logic in my bag for one such excursion, and soon learned the high
price charged for the extra weight of this rational reason of reason. Whimsy is
so much lighter and travels for free, not to mention all the laughs and light-hearted
fun. Seeking with whimsy is my new
found travel buddy -- together we search for the thing I do not known for that
which I seek … that something.
I heard Pope Francis say one Christmas Eve Mass to not seek God, let God find you. Stopped me in my midnight daze and caused my
mind to start blinking neon lights of enlightenment. Then I started to think
about other familiar analogies … love finds
you when you least expect it, a child conceived just when you had given up all hope
and opted for adoption, finding a
missing object after years of searching (seeking) … you may have your own gems
to add to this lot.
It was also about this time when it occurred to me that the merciless
search for the worrisome something may
be my quest to find the missing brick-and-mortar
of my life, the bits and pieces that were tossed aside over time for the sake
of a career. Yes, my life is good, but there is definitely room for improvement
… for instance, where did I drop off my soul and spirit in exchange for success?
Could this be my problem? I am the
one doing the seeking; I am the one carry the load; I am trying to lead this
search party. Maybe I am the problem! It’s not
an “I” kind of job this seeking and finding business.
As this Proustian remembrance creeps back into my mind, as
if the missing clue in a Hide and Seek
game, I begin to wave a mental “aha” flag of discovery. This restlessness of mine, always seeking the
mighty something, may have finally washed
onto the calm shores of a cool breezy revelation. The arid unquenchable thirst
for that something may have finally met
its match, and now I rejoice in the relaxed arms of content while making room
for this weary seeker to be found.
During the lull between
now and until then, I play with
the whimsy of this lifetime game of Hide
and Seek and cast my energy around the unexpected joy of each new
discovery. Just maybe I will find the
very something never intended, but were
destined to be found all along. Probably the reason I could never really appreciate my seeker’s kaleidoscope of poetic
somethings … the seeker must first learn it is far more rewarding to have been found. As for that unquenchable search
for the undefined something, I wonder
how that thirst got there in the first place … maybe, a bit of whimsy or perhaps
the power of our Finder.
Peaceful journeys, my kindred spirits … travel with the
lightness of whimsy, the heart of a seeker
and the wisdom to provide room for the grace of our Finder … and that is something
wondrous!
The Lord says: “Stand at the crossroads and look; ask for the ancient
paths, ask where the good way is, and walk in it, and you will find rest for
your souls.” Jeremiah 6:16 (NIV)
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Even educated bees do it … take a gap year
written by
Jeannette Zink
June 25, 2016
The caps and gowns are buzzing with excitement on this
special day. Graduation Day at BeeWise High! The day that all bee parents hope will
finally arrive for their bee sons and daughters. A day to celebrate, for sure. A day to commence
… a day to say goodbye to yesterday’s struggles, hello to bright and buzzing
futures … and for parents to plan what to
do with that extra space left in the beehive, now that their newly minted graduate will soon take flight for
University. Yes, life is looking like
the perfect honeycomb as a fine mist of orchid scent dances with the celebratory
air waves. The only thing left to do is
patiently hum to the rhythms of a commencement speech to be delivered by the
renowned explorer and scientist, Dr. BeezsKneezs, a former graduate of BeeWise High.
Suzzzzzz, quiet, please … Dr. B is about to commence … buzzzzzz
Commencement Speech
delivered by
Dr. BeezsKneezs,
Ph.D.
It is truly my honor today to buzzzz before you … Superintendent
Honey Bee, Principal Orchid Bee, families, friends, distinguished guests and the
Graduating Class of BeeWise High. Your
overwhelming love and respect for me and the life that I have forged upon
completing my studies at BeeWise High have sustained my moments of despair and
the exciting times of exuberant glory. This afternoon I share in your
excitement as you each will turn a page in the next chapter of your young
unchartered lives … it is your life, not mine; it is your energy, not mine; it
is your remaining time, not mine; it is your shining light, not mine … it is
your time to pave the course that only
you can travel.
Soar to the heights of greatness – that is the goal we all
aspire, right? No, not me. I just wanted to graduate from BeeWise High
and take flight to exotic far off blue skies.
I wanted to see the world, but had little interest in any of the heights of greatness or climbing the bee colony
corporate ladder. So, that is exactly what I did with the help of my loving
and supportive parents. I pursued my
heights of glory through the experiences gained during a time out, a bee gap
year.
Yes, as my academic records will attest, I had managed to reach
great academic achievement at BeeWise High, but I had not achieved the inner
peace of achievement…knowing my purpose in the buzz world, knowing the bee that
I was intended to be, or the passion that would serve a far greater
universe. How to go about making good
use of my bee gap year was the question before me. Should I just get in the air and buzz
away? Should I not have a plan before
stepping out of the colony? Should I seek
counsel with the wise Queen Bee? Should I
pray for the answers? I was very good at
coming up with a beehive of questions.
Then, one day as I hummed at my favorite Beeswax Coffee Shop, I saw a flier on the wall of the honeycomb
advertising trips to Antarctica, the lost continent of bee existence. Bee the FIRST to explore this continent of
ice and subzero beauty! Bee the FIRST to participate in scientific experiments
of bee life on Antarctica! Bee BRAVE!!!! I buzzed home to make my grand announcement
to my parents … I am going to be the FIRST bee to ever land on the continent of
Antarctica! Needless to say, my parents
were horrified. Travel to a place where no bee has been before … the temperatures alone
will kill you … what is wrong with you … no, absolutely not!!! But, with the help of my science teacher,
Mizzz Buttercutt, we were able to convenience my skeptical parents that this
was the exact adventure for my gap year and that the necessary precautions
would be taken to protect my buzz life.
What did I learn during my time on the continent of
Antarctica and my gap year ... here are a few things I would like to share with
you, and spoiler alert … the discoveries were not necessarily scientific in
nature:
Fear became my friend, not a feared enemy.
Confidence was a steady companion of my friend, Fear; always coming to visit with each new conquest.
The big buzz of victory was in the success of teamwork.
Passion of heart is God’s way of paving our intended buzz purpose on this lifetime journey.
Treat others with respect as you would want to be treated.
Great heights of achievement are worthy when balanced with love for family, friends and beekind.
Seek the mysteries of the unknown for the answers to help others.
Do good, bee good and live healthy so to serve a higher purpose than yourself.
Knowledge is powerful and to be revered … use it wisely.
Climb the corporate honeycomb, if that is your desire, but always carry integrity, trust and character in your portfolio of life skills and knowledge.
Pay forward all the good that you experience and share the worthiness of your failures.
Love is the first, last and the in between to what matters in a life well spent.
Bee the best that is You, not some other bee, YOU! God loves YOU … honor this precious gift and cherish with respect by paying it forward to the universe.
To the Class of BeeWise High School Graduates, may the lessons
learned from my gap year be my gift that
will serve you in your own unique lifetime adventures. Peace and love are the measures of value in each
individual pursuit of our perceived heights of greatness -- no matter the size
of the quest. Let your uncharted course
be the pathway that will serve the universal goodness and glory for all.
Thank you and happy buzzing, my kindred spirits.
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The Flying Bejeweled Fragrance Collector
written by
Jeannette Zink
dedicated to my niece
by nature
June 12, 2016
The season is summer and the hum in the hot humid subtropical
air is not the flight of a bumble bee, but that of the flying bejeweled fragrance collector – known as the orchid bee. Why
should I bring this fact to your attention or single out one family of bees
over another, you may question? A bee is a bee … some sting and some do not …
some enjoy the comforts of a beehive and some do not … some are exquisite and
some are not … some are the mysterious flamboyant flying jeweled in color
fragrance collectors and pollinators of orchids and some are not.
I simply like the beauty and charm of orchids. I love the
imagery of a mystical fragrance floating on the wings of essential oils. The classical narrative hidden deep in the feminine
charms of nature’s botanical wonderland is cause for one to daydream. A scene for a summer movie is primed … fleeting
lovers, the orchid and the orchid bee, dancing the tango of nature’s lure … oh,
what will ever happen. Check it out at
your leisure – I strongly encourage you to explore the life and times of this gorgeous
bee species. The Internet is a treasure trove
of facts about this perfume-seeking little flying creature.
I became acquainted with the orchid bee via a suggestion
from my niece by nature, Kandace. She shared with me her newly found interest
in honey bees, and thought it might be a good subject for one of my children’s
stories. Now, how did Kandace become interested in bees … her co-worker had
recently started a colony of bees, and shared with Kandace the progress of the
bee adventure. That, my friends, is how all the buzz got started!
I latched on to the bee theme, and started my research … with
the hum of excitement at every mouse click, I stumbled upon the orchid
bee! Such beauty I had never seen before
in a bee. Then, I learned the orchid’s
nectar of enticement is their fragrance and essential oils … the bee’s knee of attraction. Before the
poor orchid bee knows what has happened, it may find itself swimming in the orchid’s
coy waters of fragrances and oils … the rest is a story for the novella of brief
interludes.
One of the facts I discovered during my bee research is that
the Antarctic is the only continent that bees do not inhabit. I can’t say I blame them … why does one want
to invade the land of frozen waters and zillions of degrees below the freezing
mark … not me for sure! So, now I have
the hook for a children’s story, maybe.
The first bee to ever land on the ice cubes of Antarctica. How did the bee get to the Antarctic? Why did the bee want to go to the Antarctic
in the first place? What was the bee thinking?
What species of bee … orchid bee, of course! What did the bee do once landing on the
shores of Antarctica? There are floating
research labs populating the Antarctic … did the bee find a home on one of the
ships? If so, what are the scientific experiments
happening on these boats of discovery?
How about orchids … like the bee, there are no orchids growing in the
cold of the Antarctic. But, could there be orchids growing in a tropical hothouse of sorts on one of those floating boats?
Maybe the orchid and orchid bee form a bond that could save the emotional
universe? Did I mention the maze of
DNA? What if the fragrances and
essential oils of the orchid wrap themselves in the leggy arms of the orchid
bee … maybe the orchid bee spreads the love to more than another orchid ...
like maybe the world of DNA? Where could
this lead … good things or bad?
My brain is buzzing with all the plots for this flying bejeweled fragrance collector and
its source of attraction, the orchid. Will it be the makings for a children’s
story or the next mystical scientific fantasy mystery? What do you think???
Thank you, my niece by
nature, for planting the buzz. J
Stay tuned, my kindred spirits … the plot thickens!!!
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Two-Year Old has Funky Day … imagine that
written by
Jeannette Zink
May 29, 2016
Adalyn Grace is my remarkable soon-to-be two-year old
great-niece. She is happy on most days
and brilliant every day. But, there are
those rare occasions when her life is just not too perky; in fact, it is more
along the scale of funky. Adalyn reacts
to the funky times in a number of ways … cries, which breaks all of our hearts
near and far, falls asleep while eating her Cheerios,
zones in on one of her electronic games or gets lost in the cartoon on
television or the book resting on the floor.
Other times, she may express her dismay more through her mighty strength
vocal chords. Regardless the means of articulation,
everyone is made aware that Adalyn is just not a happy camper. Faced with this quandary, Adalyn’s amazing
mother will ask inquiring questions to ascertain the source of Adalyn’s dismay,
and explore options for the perfect remedy to relieve the distress that dared
to wander within the world of Adalyn Grace.
One such evening when Adalyn was so sad that her
mother patiently inquired as to the reasons for Adalyn’s sorrow. The reason was so dear … Adalyn’s heart was
simply sad that her daddy was not home to play with her. With such grace and love, Adalyn’s mother
assured Adalyn that her daddy would be home soon, and that before she knew it
she would be in the loving arms of her daddy.
They would run and play, and daddy would chase after her trying to catch
all her hugs and kisses.
It was not too long, but a forever amount of time by Adalyn’s clock, that Adalyn’s daddy did
arrive home and was soon chasing after those cherished hugs and kisses that
only Adalyn Grace could toss to the universe of a mommy and daddy’s love. All was back to normal in Adalyn’s
microcosmic life – happy had won out and funk was kicked to the curb by the
giggles and laughter of our precious little Adalyn.
The other day I found myself in one of Adalyn’s funky
moods. I couldn’t quiet put my finger on
the reasons or the why-for this
momentary diversion of a mostly happy disposition. The sky was beautiful and the rain had
finally ceased for a few moments, work was good, home and family were all doing
well, and I felt in relative good health.
So, what’s the deal … why the funk?
Then I started to imagine if I
were Adalyn, and what could possibly get me in a state of funk.
Much like Adalyn, it is all about our perceived world of happiness
that can send us spiraling down the staircase of gloominess or up to the
rafters of ecstasy. The prompt for a
change in our emotional landscape may be as esoteric as the barista getting our
early morning coffee order all screwed up or the 4:00 a.m. newscast is nothing
but sad tales in the world. And, just to
be fair in this game of emotive darts – the happy state may also be celebrated
over the discovery of a lucky shiny heads-up penny or that perfect cup of
morning brew. And, just like the tap of
the magician’s wand, the stars somehow are back in alignment for a grand
day.
Silly … maybe, but then isn’t it
the small things in life that multiply over time inside our head – isn’t it
really all about the seemingly insignificant actions – a smile or a kind jester;
spelt milk or missed train -- that can take us to the brink of contentment or
the valley of melancholy. The big stuff,
like winning the billion-dollar lottery, does not happen on a daily basis; but,
what does happen daily is the smaller stuff … the love and respect of each
other; the hugs and kisses of a child for her loving parents … don’t sweat the small stuff, depends …
it could be good sweat and could add up to the makings for one fine day!
Just imagine if
you were Adalyn Grace and having one of those funky days … why not chase after hugs
and kisses, and don’t sweat the funky stuff … it worked for our precious Adalyn
Grace … maybe it will work for all of us.
Let’s give it a try when the next funky day strolls in for a visit. Just imagine,
my kindred spirits.
Peace and love, and here’s to that one perfect cappuccino!!
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Night came Dressed
written by
Jeannette Zink
May 27, 2016
… night came dressed
in rays of incandescent light;
sweet dreams complement
her wardrobe of fantasy delight;
stars woven by poetic
thread dangle from the delicate hem of her aged insight;
mystics don this
night with their keen might;
façade unveiled and
mystery shown bright;
peace the glory hidden
within her story and shared on this nighttime flight;
gracefully embracing the
charms of hope and wishes held tight,
night came dressed in
rays of incandescent light;
sweet her dreams of
this night …
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Land of Enchantment
mixed with Magical Mercy
written by
May 22, 2016
There was a time when I lived in a land of enchantment. The
winds blew with such strength that all worries were forever destroyed and
daylight beauty danced in the hands of night’s star mist glory. A time when magic was mixed graciously with
tender love and tranquil grandeur.
The mystical powers of truth and understanding were my
traveling companions on this cherished journey. The trails clearly marked by the merits of
wisdom. Experience was earned by brave
risks and trust was garnered by the gentle spirits waving their flag of mercy.
This was my time and the gods of dreams were riding on the
shoulders of tomorrow’s new hopes and unexplored adventures. The land
of enchantment was inside my heart and the time was mine to know its
lasting memories and to appreciate the mysteries of its magical moments.
Yes, there was a time when I lived in a land of enchantment. My
dreamcatcher holding close the alchemy of each untold story with a promise to cast
purpose from the vista of future’s mountain top.
My kindred spirits, may your land of enchantment forever
enrich your life … always available to visit when needing a refresher of those
magical times.
think it … say it … do it
~but, mostly … just Believe it~
written
by
Jeannette Zink
May 21, 2016
I have begun to build a bookshelf. It will be a beauty … packed with many books, this and that tidbits, and some really bad habits primed for correction. Each shelf will be painted in a color that I have chosen with scholarly care. The hues measured against their well-established healing properties and every tone casting an aura of positive energy. This will be the secret garden where I can go to find my escape hatch as Alice unleashed in her Wonderland and travel my hero journey with the Greek gods and goddesses. Yes, indeed, this will be my haven for intellectual exploration, home of tapped curiosity roaming free range and the place where to just believe is everything. Now, on three … repeat after me, my friends -- think it … say it … do it ~ Just Believe!
The immediate task at hand is to survey this fine piece of bookshelf real estate. Each shelf has a value that any realtor would be envious, except for the top shelf. The top shelf is packed with worn out and tiresome bad habits. You know what I mean … bad experiences that play on constant repeat, fears that invade the good times, apprehensions that blockade new adventures, confidence shattered by one trivial failure, hope dashed by the shadows of gloom … I think you get my gist of this mental wasteland of real estate.
Well, today is the day that I do a complete clear out of this useless top shelf clutter sitting in the lap of luxury on my prized property! Today is the day that I turn the corner and simply Just Believe in myself and in a higher omnipresence power; today is my day to think it … say it … do it ~ just Believe it!! Amazing is the power we carry inside our head and wager in our heart. The switch to flip this powerful change in our life waiting for us … anytime we choose to move the lever. So, why the dragging of our mental feet; the lag time in taking this monumental small step to switch the dial to just believe?
Maybe the acquisition of prime property, a prize possession, will push us over the rainbow of decision-making one day -- to take ownership of our life, and not by others. It just may be this transaction that will catapult us to a new way of thinking and being. Our mental image of the possible lay in wait for us to Just Believe.
Be brave, my friends, and try it -- think it … say it … do it ~ Just Believe! Make space on your top shelf for a life that will be equal in value of the prime real estate acquired in the beginning of your lifetime journey … Just Believe! Yes, the acceptance of this positive energy will be electrifying and may turn the corners of your life into a magnificent happening with incredible gifts discovered … Just Believe!
My kindred spirits -- let your clear out begin, NOW! – you are worthy of every inch of this prime real estate and all the gifts unveiled with each new possibility and every marvelous discovery.
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The Night Magician
written
May 15, 2016
“Can our dreams be caught?” I asked the night magician. “No, my precious child,” said a colbalt blue whisper. “Not even I can lasso the magic awaiting inside
each treasured hope and wishful desire.”
Our dreams
are meant to be on display, to be examined with curiosity, to be touched by the
starry glimmers of mystery, and to be nurtured from the woven ribbons made by
delicate hands of brave beads and cheerful golden jewels.
“Cherish the
journey of your dreams, my child,” said the night magician. “Dance on the wings
of their freedom and explore with a pure heart their possibilities.”
Travel light … it’s going to be
alright
written by
May 8, 2016
Carry the weight of the world on your
shoulders … have you
ever felt that mother-load of heavy duty baggage hanging on for dear life to
your mental upper parts? Shake-it-off, we may tell our more
rational self - just get on with it, love. This
too shall pass is another one of my personal favorites to aid in the
re-focusing efforts of my scattered energy.
You can do this, so just do it! The cheering section in the right hemisphere
of my vertebrate cerebrum (brain) shake pom-poms of glee and shout rhythmic
praises … full steam ahead mode, no pausing
for doubt – after all, the world stands on tip-toes waiting for my
contributions to the universe. So, what
is holding me back ... what is tugging on those nagging left strings in the
hemisphere of my reality show of a
brain? Yes, why can’t you just get on with it, love?
I have
always been a middle-of-the-road kind of soul.
The leaning too far in one direction or the other would surely lead to
mayhem -- the control buttons spinning-out to never-never-land, and life as I
had known it no longer to be nicely and neatly ordered. Decisions made were under the influence of a left
hemisphere of linear-sequential-logical hub cap of brain thinking. The details identified and examined, lists
outlined, and the bigness of the smallness of the big picture kicked to the
curb. Left brain clearly in charge… no
big-picture venue necessary… the data supports the predictable outcome. There is no reason to throw caution to the
winds of possibilities and just see the what-if’s
take on a life of their own. Did I not
have logic packed in this heavy suitcase of responsible decision-making
life! So, again, I ask myself … why can’t you just get on with it, love?
Well, my
kindred friends, if there is a left brain, there is quiet likely a right brain
that is trying to climb into our mental luggage - all the ready to travel alone
for the ride. “Hey, Left Brain, is it possible that you have forgotten something?” “What about those abstract dreams you once
secretly harbored?” “What about those
obscure fantasies once floating in a sea of tomorrows?” You
know that big-picture you once painted of a life that could be if you ruled the
world, remember… well, that picture still hangs in the corner of your cobwebbed
treasure chest of hopes attic… go fetch it… your reality may need a reboot.
I am going
to offer a suggestion at this point, my friends. Maybe it is time to listen to our gut - the north
star of our true compass; the ruler of our inner universe; the gatekeeper of
balance -when the logical left brain pulls the strings, the intuitive right heart ties the bow around the life we are destined to live. Could this be God’s elusive segue into our Yin-Yang life travelogue?
Why can’t you just get on with it,
love? The Yin-Yang question
that ultimately will help to lighten the load we carry on our lifetime journey. It is this balance of our brain’s hemispheres
that weave our stories; lead us on a path to wisdom; and surrender the gift of
our unique narrative. The Socrates’ scale
of truth shall never lay dormant in the questioning mind, but forever a swing
of up and down motion in search of answers.
Travel light
… it’s going to be alright. Just listen
for that inner voice that will assuredly light the path and make all the
difference in the journey.
Why can’t you just get on with it,
love?
Peace, my
kindred spirits.
Virtues of Boredom
We have all had those times when the
tedium of a new day was so overwhelming that the sheer strength to remove the
covers from our night sleep, step a bare foot to the floor of morning’s
routine, or toss the civil exchange of “good morning” to the first innocent human
contact may have been entirely too demanding for our gloomy soul. The excitement
of good times and new adventures that once shone on our day was nowhere to be
found on those dreadful days of melancholy.
Instead, we found ourselves in the field of mind games … maybe I will just call in sick today. My throat does have a slight tickle. The
temperature of my forehead feels a bit warm.
I definitely would not want to spread any germs to my office mates. Yes, I had better call in sick. It’s the responsible thing to do.
This is the exact state that I found
myself on a particular morning not too long ago. The clever maneuvers of boredom had manipulated its way through the backdoor of my cheerful
and optimistic outlook on life. Not even
extending me the courtesy of a “hello, may I come in,” boredom just came right on in to my blissful existence … found a
vacant spot on the brim of my vanilla lavender spice hot cup of tea, crossed
its arms with resolve and sat with a smug look, as if to say, “I am here for as
long as you need me. It’s your call, or
maybe the answer is in those tea leaves you have been gazing at every morning
for the past two weeks.” Whether I had
invited boredom for a visit or it had
decided to arrive uninvited, the fact of the matter was that it was in my life and it came packing a whopping bag of
weariness.
I thought the most decent and
well-mannerly thing to do was to treat the uninvited guest to a cup of tea and
chat for awhile, then graciously edge the misguided caller to the nearest exit
door. Case closed … intrusion to my
routine only a distant Proustian
moment. But, what does one do when a
guest just does not take the hint that their company is no longer
welcomed? Calling 911 seemed a little
melodramatic and probably not within the scope of intent for the use of the 911
alarm. How about just casting etiquette
aside and give boredom the boot? Before going too far adrift of civility, I
hit the brakes of awareness and bowed to the existential realization that perhaps
boredom was more of a wake-up call than a 911 alarm.
So, I extended a formal invitation to
my new friend, boredom, and had a BFF-kind of visit. Here is what I learned from the short span of
time spent with my new good friend:
Good friends tell you what you may
not want to hear, but with a spoon-full
of sugary kindness.
Just as there are silver linings in
the darkest of times, I have discovered the virtues in my friendship with boredom.
My good friend is always lifting me to a higher level of being. Inside the struggle of each poignant moment,
my friend has stood strong by my side. This
is the unsung virtue of my friend boredom
-- to help sort through the messiness of what works and does not in my life; to
set the course for the next experience just waiting around the corner; and, to
pave a way for my intended purpose on this lifetime journey.
Yes, boredom may show up one morning
on your doorstep … my humble advice
is to open your door to this uninvited guest; you may have just met an
invaluable friend who will serve you during the best of times and the messiest
of times. After all, isn’t that what we
look for in a good friend, someone who has our best interest at heart while
kicking us on to our better raison d’être!
Peace and love, my kindred spirits. May the virtues of boredom be your
well-spring for the light that will again shine on each of your fresh new days.
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Colors have Feelings
too
March 27, 2016
The star
mist colors rode across the lips of early morning dawn. Their fragile wings were elegant in strength
and polished by the promises of last moonlit night. The rich tones of silence, measured by the volume
of a whisper, greeted this mystic palette of golden treasures. These brave and bold colors, gentle in
appearance and dressed by the hues of gemstone and jewel, our heroes in this
landscape of a pristine new day.
Their story,
not yet cast but secure in merit, written with a pen dipped in the sweet magic
of kindred spirits and forgiving souls. We
felt their essence and knew their depth by each brush stroke they spread with the
radiance of grace assured to linger in the palm of each new day.
These star
mist colors, feeling the language of our heart and the compassion of our desire,
carry us to the edge of our better self.
The rest up to us to find the talisman that will rouse our creative heart
and foster the charitable reasons for a life we choose to paint from the
palette of each new day.
My kindred
spirits… may the blessings and colors of your misty dawn bring you peace and joy
each and every pristine new day.
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Morning Goodness
written by
Jeannette
Zink
I am not a
morning person. There I’ve said it; the
truth is now out there in the universe.
I wish I could tell you otherwise; but, the truth will set you free and
that’s the truth! However, if I were a
morning person, just how would the wee hours of the morning look and feel to me…
I wonder, not necessarily intent on finding the answer, but more of a pondering
kind of exercise. Might the hours take
on a more poetic essence; the shower becoming a cleanser for the soul; the
thinking more purifying; and, perhaps the perfect venue for washing yesterday’s
regrets down the drain to make way for the freshness awaiting each shiny new
penny of a day.
Morning Hour Poet
The early morning hours, woven between the fold of
what-if moments and the dreamy mist of second chances, know the wait will soon
be over. The dawn readied to acquiesce
the
shiny penny of a new day.
Secure in the arms of aspiration; embraced by unlimited
potential; these rays of belief sparkle in wonder and magic that greet
the shiny
penny of a new day.
Maybe the early morning hours will be my friend; succumbing to
this benefactor of hope; yes, these hours of refresh may have earned their
place of measured possibilities;
the shiny penny of a new day.
Do not curse the early morning hours. Their time is not a fault. They are a gift given from the night sleep to
prepare us for
the shiny penny of a new day.
Will I ever find my peace with the
early morning hours … maybe; the poet is forever the gentle observer of a
cosmos that remains open to each shiny penny of a new day … even in its wee
early morning hours.
Peaceful mornings … my dear kindred
spirits.
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Spinning
Wheels Stop
written by
I’m
going to disappoint you. But you knew
that already. That’s how I would talk to myself a few years
ago. As if I were some predictable
social misfit that no other outcome could possibly find its way into my sphere
of promise. This casual exchange was just so cozy and comfy that the roomy
space of acceptance had no competition.
My companion, Disappointment,
knew my ever weakness and insecurity … we were BFFs. Come, sit, let’s chitchat … me and myself.
Disappointment,
good to see you. You are the one thing I can always count
on. You’re like my Wheel of Hope gone
spinning off its freaking rails—traveling a trail covered with the undergrowth
of dead roots and rock hard mistakes.
Good
morning, BFF. I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s time for
you to start clearing out a new path for yourself. A nice, clean untangled path with none of your
mess to be seen for miles.
Maybe I will someday,
Disappointment. Maybe those old worn-out
bad judgment spinning wheels of mine will do just that someday.
See that opening over there. Looks like a good place to start…start clearing
out all that underbrush of missteps.
Clearing out stuff is good for the soul.
Where’re you headed this morning, Disappointment?
See that jagged trail over there with
all the twists and turns, potholes, partially paved but mostly gravel and dirt
road – that’s where I’m headed, that’s the trail I have whittled out for
myself. It took me a few years to clear
that trail, but I finally got it so I could find my way from here to
there. It’s not perfect; but, it gets me
to where I need to be.
I’m not sure where I’m headed, never do
really.
I know where you are headed, BFF. I know all about those spinning wheels of
yours. I know exactly where they are
going to take you. I also know all too
well about that messy clearing over there.
If you don’t mind me saying, BFF, you’ve
got some hard executive-of-your-life decisions to make for yourself. It’s like your very own boardroom of a
defining moment.
What makes you such an expert, Disappointment?
Let’s just keep it simple, and say that my spinning wheels have seen a lot of
mileage, and traveled many paths stocked with jeering detours.
BFF, I know first-hand the back-breaking
hard work that it’s going to take to clear out that trail over there. I know the buckets of disappointment that
will overtake unspoken prayers … maybe
this time things will be different. I
know the potholes that go unrepaired, the speed bumps; the hills and valleys
that pluck each nerve of despair.
Then just when you think there can never
be a day where a smile can kick through all the junk of yesterday-- there comes
along this camel out of nowhere. And,
just like the strong hand of fate made of straw, the straw takes hold of that
camel and pushes him here and there until finally the camel just tosses in the
proverbial camel hair towel. The camel
shouts out … enough, damn fate, I don’t
have to take this; I have had enough! That’s when everything in your life takes on a
renewal … that’s when you have the guts to stand up to yourself! And, perhaps for
the first time, you meet a better, stronger you.
But, Disappointment is my BFF.
I feel safe in my relationship with Disappointment. I can count on my friend to be there for me through thick and thin. I don’t want to disappoint my friend.
The time has come, my friend, to face
facts … you are going to disappoint and you will be disappointed. You will see wonder and you will see
despair. You will trust and you will
question. But, a life worthy of your
grandeur will welcome the friendships of confidence and courage as easily as
once disappointment found its respected place inside the coziness of your
weaker self. Yes, I’m going to disappoint you ... but you knew that already. Now, get up and move on!
Goodbye, Disappointment. It’s finally my time … but you knew that
already.
May courage and compassion comfort and
strengthen our soul; disappointment and despair, the infrequent guest just dropping-off
a life lesson ever so often.
Peaceful journeys, my dear kindred
spirits.
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Snowflake Hearts
January 31, 2016
The snowflake hearts were beginning
to twirl downward just slightly east of full moon’s glow. It was definitely the beginning of a theatrical
stage-setting and mystical venue for a historic blizzard. The nice weather people had succeeded in
forecasting the approximate time for the arrival of the first snowflakes and their
anemometers were primed to measure the howling winds that were promised to
reach the criterion for blizzard conditions. Most of the weather reporting viewing
community had abided by the expert guidance to stock their shelves with enough non-perishable
eatables to sustain a hearty soul for at least 3 days or more. The acquisition of water, milk, toilet paper,
chips, hot chocolate, batteries and hand
warmers were all on the “must-have-to-make-it-through” this historic Blizzard of 2016.
I was as prepared as I could be for
history to make its dramatic entrance in my little part of the world on the
east coast of North America. In fact,
the nights and days to follow were best described by the great literary connoisseur
and author of the simply stated descriptive opening sentence to any story – Snoopy of Peanuts fame … “It was a dark and stormy night.”
The fear of losing power, a literal
and emotional prospect, was my big psyche monster under the bed. If the snow drifts were to accumulate up to
the levels of the predicted 30 – 40 inches, how could I possibly keep myself
warm for several days until my power
had been restored? The variety store
hand warmers would not be enough to make it through this monster of a
storm. I would have to face my other
fear – fire – and test the fireplace
in my home, a perfectly fine fireplace that had never been used in 13
years. My brother, who lives a mere
1,800 miles from me, was so kind and supportive to give me the step-by-step
instructions on how to check out the fireplace.
So, putting on my be strong and be
brave armor, I began my expedition to explore the safety net of power
alternative, if needed.
My strength in opening the fireplace
flue damper was surely tested, but I did finally manage to open the
damper. I could almost see the glimmers
of light from the heavens, which was the indicator there were no bird nests
obstructing the escape hatch for uninvited smoke vapors; and, the cold chill of
blizzard winds definitely invaded the confines of the fireplace – another sign,
I determined, that the fireplace was ready for use, if I absolutely… back
against the proverbial wall … kind of moment arrived, and I needed to touch a
flame to the simulated firewood gathered for such an occasion.
The next opposition to surmount was
the closing of the fireplace’s damper. I
am now going to share with you a key mental note from my fireplace checking
experience… use your Smartphone camera to take a picture of the “before opening
the damper” setup. To be more specific, the
camera must capture the image of where the vital “lug” goes in the essential bracket. Because
it will be at this decisive moment when you may question … how does one know
with unquestionable certainty that
the damper is closed? … that you will save yourself a lot of grief and valuable
home heat by just taking a refresher view of the camera’s photo of that
precious “lug.” I was not so clever to
employ such strategy, and my mental camera was a bit foggy. Thus, I did not return the lug to its proper
position and the night’s cold chill found its resting place in my
fireplace. However, the next morning
upon my check of the blessed fireplace, my instincts told me something was
amiss. The thought of flue dampers and
lugs were twirling in my anxious minds-eye.
I turned to modern day technology and search engines to explore the
possible mishap in my fireplace checking adventure. Thank you to the people of Google-land for solving my dilemma. I was able to find a picture of what
constitutes a successfully closed damper and exactly where the royal “lug” goes
in the bracket. I am so proud of me and
I am so grateful to Google-land!!! With this drama now resolved, it was now time
for a hot bowl of gluten-free quinoa and a cup of hot apple cider.
The Blizzard of 2016 did indeed arrive, all 24 – 40 inches of snowflake
hearts with the winds of 40 – 60+ gusts; and, blessedly, few people lost their power … literally and/or emotionally. New skill sets were developed … fireplace
check-up and lug placement. But, most
importantly, the love and support of my family 1,800 miles away were never as
close to me during these monster-under-the-bed-scary-times
as they were during this historic Blizzard
of 2016. Thank you, my dear and
beloved family, and thank you gods of
power for never leaving my side!
Stay warm, my kindred spirits, and be
of encouraging heart … it is now just 7 weeks until the astronomical spring
will come tap dancing on our souls and refreshing signs of renewal will set in
motion our hopes and dreams of boundless warming possibilities.
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Sometimes I forget to
release the Pause button
written by
It is the
season of winter… my mood now synchronized with the pause button on any
electronic device … life set to hibernate (pause)
until the first sighting of spring. The
image of tea leaves settled at the bottom of my cup, as if huddled in a state
of hiatus; patiently wait for the bitter fingers of freezing cold to perform their
burlesque cabaret -- tossing gloves of warmth to the cheers of a more temperate
agreeable climate. Just to get through the first three months of a new year is the goal…
that’s how to survive … just to get
through.
The only
problem with this lifeboat survival tactic for the dreadful days following the winter
solstice is that surprisingly “life is
happening” during this same time slot.
There are things to do, places to go, and goals to be achieved within
contracted expectations. One cannot require
life to pause. Life itself perpetually moves forward in an upright tray position … whether we
hibernate or not; whether we want to move forward or not … life is in motion.
What to do
with this dilemma … living vs. hibernating … is one for the mystics, literary
essayists and the Bible to
address. In my state of lethargy, I turn
to one of my favorite English essayist, James Allen, and to one of my favorite
books in the Bible, Book of Proverbs,
to find the antonymic wisdom in this season of my freezing discontent.
The title of
James Allen’s 1903 essay, As a Man
Thinketh, was influenced by the biblical Book of Proverbs, chapter 23, verse 7 (King James): “As a man thinketh in his heart, so is
he.” Mr. Allen’s literary application of
this verse was one man’s attempt to help all mankind to pull the strings of cerebral
thought to a higher level of understanding and bring … perhaps, kicking and
screaming … to a place of tolerance and insight for the possibilities that may challenge
our winter melancholy of thought. Might
there be a better response than my personal favorite: “No, I cannot take this. I am
going to my warm and safe state of hibernation.
This too shall pass. See you in
the spring.” Could the key to our circumstances be endured beyond our sense
of suspended reality simply by forming “thoughts” that transform us, as if our
winter solstice magician waved their wand of mercy, to a more positive place of
receptive gratitude for this special moment in the four season cycle?
I, for one, will
gladly cast my vote to give Mr. Allen and the biblical verse a try. As I type this essay, I find myself shivering
and dreading going outdoors. The
sunshine-filled sky has now been brushed with the paint of overcast gray
tones. The trumpets sound the imminent
arrival of the royals – Queen of Snow and King of Ice. With this dismal imaginary, I hold tight my
hot cup of cocoa and nibble on the Proustian madeleine cookie in hope that the Remembrance of Things Past will metaphorically spring forth, my winter of spring-like
content. A time when a weary cold night
is greeted by the friendly local meteorologist’s forecast for a prolonged and
gradual warming trend.
Thus, with
the determination of an Allen-ish
decree, I embrace the weeding of my mental winter garden. The weeds of misery and woe replaced with a
sunnier disposition clothed in woolen comfort and toasted by the aroma of hot
apple cider. I hug tight the philosophy
that each day will somehow progress at the pace of each ticking second no
matter how grumpy my attitude toward the day.
Why, I ask the winter gods, do I covet despair when delight is just as
easily an open market commodity all the ready for acquisition? Good question, one can almost hear the gardener
voice with the struggle to unearth each useless mental weed. The seeds of good and fruitful thought are
far more pleasing and productive to the betterment of all things great than one
second of wintry glum. So, why wait to release
the pause button on life? The universe is moving on, with or without
us, and it can be a beautiful ride, if we just let it happen.
Thus, the
gardener’s rake and shovel, tools for eradicating the undesirable twigs, prepare
the landscape of beauty rendered seed by seed.
These are also my tools, my support
group, for a proverbial winter clearance.
The mother of all winter sales … all bad moods are up for grabs … all
must go … the great clear out … making space for the wonders that surely lie in
wait to salute each fresh New Year.
Please do
not waste one second hibernating under the guise of winter doldrums. Life is worthy of more than the effortless wish
to just get through so to harvest the
warmer days of spring. Each day is a
gift and deserves our utmost attention.
My kindred
spirits … please don’t forget to release the pause button on your life … life is happening, now. Hop on the
winter sleigh ride … it just might be fun… regardless the thermostatic setting.
Blessings to
all and try to keep a warm heart and have faith … spring will be here soon! Until
then, enjoy each glorious day.
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Dancing
with Daddy
written
by
Jeannette Zink
May 21, 2016
I have begun to build a bookshelf. It will be a beauty … packed with many books, this and that tidbits, and some really bad habits primed for correction. Each shelf will be painted in a color that I have chosen with scholarly care. The hues measured against their well-established healing properties and every tone casting an aura of positive energy. This will be the secret garden where I can go to find my escape hatch as Alice unleashed in her Wonderland and travel my hero journey with the Greek gods and goddesses. Yes, indeed, this will be my haven for intellectual exploration, home of tapped curiosity roaming free range and the place where to just believe is everything. Now, on three … repeat after me, my friends -- think it … say it … do it ~ Just Believe!
The immediate task at hand is to survey this fine piece of bookshelf real estate. Each shelf has a value that any realtor would be envious, except for the top shelf. The top shelf is packed with worn out and tiresome bad habits. You know what I mean … bad experiences that play on constant repeat, fears that invade the good times, apprehensions that blockade new adventures, confidence shattered by one trivial failure, hope dashed by the shadows of gloom … I think you get my gist of this mental wasteland of real estate.
Well, today is the day that I do a complete clear out of this useless top shelf clutter sitting in the lap of luxury on my prized property! Today is the day that I turn the corner and simply Just Believe in myself and in a higher omnipresence power; today is my day to think it … say it … do it ~ just Believe it!! Amazing is the power we carry inside our head and wager in our heart. The switch to flip this powerful change in our life waiting for us … anytime we choose to move the lever. So, why the dragging of our mental feet; the lag time in taking this monumental small step to switch the dial to just believe?
Maybe the acquisition of prime property, a prize possession, will push us over the rainbow of decision-making one day -- to take ownership of our life, and not by others. It just may be this transaction that will catapult us to a new way of thinking and being. Our mental image of the possible lay in wait for us to Just Believe.
Be brave, my friends, and try it -- think it … say it … do it ~ Just Believe! Make space on your top shelf for a life that will be equal in value of the prime real estate acquired in the beginning of your lifetime journey … Just Believe! Yes, the acceptance of this positive energy will be electrifying and may turn the corners of your life into a magnificent happening with incredible gifts discovered … Just Believe!
My kindred spirits -- let your clear out begin, NOW! – you are worthy of every inch of this prime real estate and all the gifts unveiled with each new possibility and every marvelous discovery.
You may enjoy visiting
my blogs:
The Night Magician
written
by
Jeannette
Zink
May 15, 2016
“Can our dreams be caught?” I asked the night magician. “No, my precious child,” said a colbalt blue whisper. “Not even I can lasso the magic awaiting inside
each treasured hope and wishful desire.”
Our dreams
are meant to be on display, to be examined with curiosity, to be touched by the
starry glimmers of mystery, and to be nurtured from the woven ribbons made by
delicate hands of brave beads and cheerful golden jewels.
“Cherish the
journey of your dreams, my child,” said the night magician. “Dance on the wings
of their freedom and explore with a pure heart their possibilities.”
Can our dreams be caught? No, my child.
They must always be free to travel their intended destiny.
“Peace and
love,” whispered the night magician. “Always
remember to dream without a net and to chase the beauty in each passionate discovery.”
Travel light … it’s going to be alright
written by
Jeannette
Zink
May 8, 2016
Carry the weight of the world on your
shoulders … have you
ever felt that mother-load of heavy duty baggage hanging on for dear life to
your mental upper parts? Shake-it-off, we may tell our more
rational self - just get on with it, love. This
too shall pass is another one of my personal favorites to aid in the
re-focusing efforts of my scattered energy.
You can do this, so just do it! The cheering section in the right hemisphere
of my vertebrate cerebrum (brain) shake pom-poms of glee and shout rhythmic
praises … full steam ahead mode, no pausing
for doubt – after all, the world stands on tip-toes waiting for my
contributions to the universe. So, what
is holding me back ... what is tugging on those nagging left strings in the
hemisphere of my reality show of a
brain? Yes, why can’t you just get on with it, love?
I have
always been a middle-of-the-road kind of soul.
The leaning too far in one direction or the other would surely lead to
mayhem -- the control buttons spinning-out to never-never-land, and life as I
had known it no longer to be nicely and neatly ordered. Decisions made were under the influence of a left
hemisphere of linear-sequential-logical hub cap of brain thinking. The details identified and examined, lists
outlined, and the bigness of the smallness of the big picture kicked to the
curb. Left brain clearly in charge… no
big-picture venue necessary… the data supports the predictable outcome. There is no reason to throw caution to the
winds of possibilities and just see the what-if’s
take on a life of their own. Did I not
have logic packed in this heavy suitcase of responsible decision-making
life! So, again, I ask myself … why can’t you just get on with it, love?
Well, my
kindred friends, if there is a left brain, there is quiet likely a right brain
that is trying to climb into our mental luggage - all the ready to travel alone
for the ride. “Hey, Left Brain, is it possible that you have forgotten something?” “What about those abstract dreams you once
secretly harbored?” “What about those
obscure fantasies once floating in a sea of tomorrows?” You
know that big-picture you once painted of a life that could be if you ruled the
world, remember… well, that picture still hangs in the corner of your cobwebbed
treasure chest of hopes attic… go fetch it… your reality may need a reboot.
I am going
to offer a suggestion at this point, my friends. Maybe it is time to listen to our gut - the north
star of our true compass; the ruler of our inner universe; the gatekeeper of
balance -when the logical left brain pulls the strings, the intuitive right heart ties the bow around the life we are destined to live. Could this be God’s elusive segue into our Yin-Yang life travelogue?
Why can’t you just get on with it,
love? The Yin-Yang question
that ultimately will help to lighten the load we carry on our lifetime journey. It is this balance of our brain’s hemispheres
that weave our stories; lead us on a path to wisdom; and surrender the gift of
our unique narrative. The Socrates’ scale
of truth shall never lay dormant in the questioning mind, but forever a swing
of up and down motion in search of answers.
Why can’t you just get on with it,
love? “I think I can,” said The Little Engine That Could … now that I travel on the wings of
wisdom’s lightness and listen for the balancing guidance of God’s reassuring message
… “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares
the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you hope and a
future.” Jeremiah 29:11
Travel light
… it’s going to be alright. Just listen
for that inner voice that will assuredly light the path and make all the
difference in the journey.
Why can’t you just get on with it,
love?
Peace, my
kindred spirits.
You may enjoy visiting
my blogs:
http://jeannettesartandstories.blogspot.com/
http://doodlngwithwordsbyjeannette.blogspot.com/
Virtues of Boredom
written by
Jeannette Zink
April 10, 2016
We have all had those times when the
tedium of a new day was so overwhelming that the sheer strength to remove the
covers from our night sleep, step a bare foot to the floor of morning’s
routine, or toss the civil exchange of “good morning” to the first innocent human
contact may have been entirely too demanding for our gloomy soul. The excitement
of good times and new adventures that once shone on our day was nowhere to be
found on those dreadful days of melancholy.
Instead, we found ourselves in the field of mind games … maybe I will just call in sick today. My throat does have a slight tickle. The
temperature of my forehead feels a bit warm.
I definitely would not want to spread any germs to my office mates. Yes, I had better call in sick. It’s the responsible thing to do.
This is the exact state that I found
myself on a particular morning not too long ago. The clever maneuvers of boredom had manipulated its way through the backdoor of my cheerful
and optimistic outlook on life. Not even
extending me the courtesy of a “hello, may I come in,” boredom just came right on in to my blissful existence … found a
vacant spot on the brim of my vanilla lavender spice hot cup of tea, crossed
its arms with resolve and sat with a smug look, as if to say, “I am here for as
long as you need me. It’s your call, or
maybe the answer is in those tea leaves you have been gazing at every morning
for the past two weeks.” Whether I had
invited boredom for a visit or it had
decided to arrive uninvited, the fact of the matter was that it was in my life and it came packing a whopping bag of
weariness.
I thought the most decent and
well-mannerly thing to do was to treat the uninvited guest to a cup of tea and
chat for awhile, then graciously edge the misguided caller to the nearest exit
door. Case closed … intrusion to my
routine only a distant Proustian
moment. But, what does one do when a
guest just does not take the hint that their company is no longer
welcomed? Calling 911 seemed a little
melodramatic and probably not within the scope of intent for the use of the 911
alarm. How about just casting etiquette
aside and give boredom the boot? Before going too far adrift of civility, I
hit the brakes of awareness and bowed to the existential realization that perhaps
boredom was more of a wake-up call than a 911 alarm.
So, I extended a formal invitation to
my new friend, boredom, and had a BFF-kind of visit. Here is what I learned from the short span of
time spent with my new good friend:
Good friends tell you what you may
not want to hear, but with a spoon-full
of sugary kindness.
Good friends show up when you need
them the most; they don’t wait for an invitation.
Good friends listen with an open
heart and speak in measured moments.
Good friends are at their gentle
strongest when we are at our humble weakest.
Good friends may kick our butt with a
soft shoe of love until we see clearly our raison d’être.
Good friends know who we are in spite
of who may pretend to be for our imaginary audience.
Good friends see the good in us and
the not so good … and, love us just the same.
Good friends lend a helping hand
without expecting anything in return.
Good friends see the person that we
want to be and help us to find our better self.
Good friends may come with a TIME-OUT button … respect and push on.
Good friends may bore us to catch our
distracted attention.
Good friends may in fact be boredom!
Just as there are silver linings in
the darkest of times, I have discovered the virtues in my friendship with boredom.
My good friend is always lifting me to a higher level of being. Inside the struggle of each poignant moment,
my friend has stood strong by my side. This
is the unsung virtue of my friend boredom
-- to help sort through the messiness of what works and does not in my life; to
set the course for the next experience just waiting around the corner; and, to
pave a way for my intended purpose on this lifetime journey.
Yes, boredom may show up one morning
on your doorstep … my humble advice
is to open your door to this uninvited guest; you may have just met an
invaluable friend who will serve you during the best of times and the messiest
of times. After all, isn’t that what we
look for in a good friend, someone who has our best interest at heart while
kicking us on to our better raison d’être!
Peace and love, my kindred spirits. May the virtues of boredom be your
well-spring for the light that will again shine on each of your fresh new days.
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Colors have Feelings too
written by
Jeannette
Zink
March 27, 2016
The star
mist colors rode across the lips of early morning dawn. Their fragile wings were elegant in strength
and polished by the promises of last moonlit night. The rich tones of silence, measured by the volume
of a whisper, greeted this mystic palette of golden treasures. These brave and bold colors, gentle in
appearance and dressed by the hues of gemstone and jewel, our heroes in this
landscape of a pristine new day.
Their story,
not yet cast but secure in merit, written with a pen dipped in the sweet magic
of kindred spirits and forgiving souls. We
felt their essence and knew their depth by each brush stroke they spread with the
radiance of grace assured to linger in the palm of each new day.
These star
mist colors, feeling the language of our heart and the compassion of our desire,
carry us to the edge of our better self.
The rest up to us to find the talisman that will rouse our creative heart
and foster the charitable reasons for a life we choose to paint from the
palette of each new day.
My kindred
spirits… may the blessings and colors of your misty dawn bring you peace and joy
each and every pristine new day.
You may enjoy visiting my blogs:
Morning Goodness
written by
Jeannette
Zink
March 12,
2016
I am not a
morning person. There I’ve said it; the
truth is now out there in the universe.
I wish I could tell you otherwise; but, the truth will set you free and
that’s the truth! However, if I were a
morning person, just how would the wee hours of the morning look and feel to me…
I wonder, not necessarily intent on finding the answer, but more of a pondering
kind of exercise. Might the hours take
on a more poetic essence; the shower becoming a cleanser for the soul; the
thinking more purifying; and, perhaps the perfect venue for washing yesterday’s
regrets down the drain to make way for the freshness awaiting each shiny new
penny of a day.
Morning Hour Poet
The early morning hours, woven between the fold of
what-if moments and the dreamy mist of second chances, know the wait will soon
be over. The dawn readied to acquiesce
the
shiny penny of a new day.
Secure in the arms of aspiration; embraced by unlimited
potential; these rays of belief sparkle in wonder and magic that greet
the shiny
penny of a new day.
Maybe the early morning hours will be my friend; succumbing to
this benefactor of hope; yes, these hours of refresh may have earned their
place of measured possibilities;
the shiny penny of a new day.
Do not curse the early morning hours. Their time is not a fault. They are a gift given from the night sleep to
prepare us for
the shiny penny of a new day.
Will I ever find my peace with the
early morning hours … maybe; the poet is forever the gentle observer of a
cosmos that remains open to each shiny penny of a new day … even in its wee
early morning hours.
Peaceful mornings … my dear kindred
spirits.
You may enjoy visiting my blogs:
Spinning Wheels Stop
written by
Jeannette
Zink
March 6,
2016
I’m
going to disappoint you. But you knew
that already. That’s how I would talk to myself a few years
ago. As if I were some predictable
social misfit that no other outcome could possibly find its way into my sphere
of promise. This casual exchange was just so cozy and comfy that the roomy
space of acceptance had no competition.
My companion, Disappointment,
knew my ever weakness and insecurity … we were BFFs. Come, sit, let’s chitchat … me and myself.
Disappointment,
good to see you. You are the one thing I can always count
on. You’re like my Wheel of Hope gone
spinning off its freaking rails—traveling a trail covered with the undergrowth
of dead roots and rock hard mistakes.
Good
morning, BFF. I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s time for
you to start clearing out a new path for yourself. A nice, clean untangled path with none of your
mess to be seen for miles.
Maybe I will someday,
Disappointment. Maybe those old worn-out
bad judgment spinning wheels of mine will do just that someday.
See that opening over there. Looks like a good place to start…start clearing
out all that underbrush of missteps.
Clearing out stuff is good for the soul.
Where’re you headed this morning, Disappointment?
See that jagged trail over there with
all the twists and turns, potholes, partially paved but mostly gravel and dirt
road – that’s where I’m headed, that’s the trail I have whittled out for
myself. It took me a few years to clear
that trail, but I finally got it so I could find my way from here to
there. It’s not perfect; but, it gets me
to where I need to be.
I’m not sure where I’m headed, never do
really.
I know where you are headed, BFF. I know all about those spinning wheels of
yours. I know exactly where they are
going to take you. I also know all too
well about that messy clearing over there.
If you don’t mind me saying, BFF, you’ve
got some hard executive-of-your-life decisions to make for yourself. It’s like your very own boardroom of a
defining moment.
What makes you such an expert, Disappointment?
Let’s just keep it simple, and say that my spinning wheels have seen a lot of
mileage, and traveled many paths stocked with jeering detours.
BFF, I know first-hand the back-breaking
hard work that it’s going to take to clear out that trail over there. I know the buckets of disappointment that
will overtake unspoken prayers … maybe
this time things will be different. I
know the potholes that go unrepaired, the speed bumps; the hills and valleys
that pluck each nerve of despair.
Then just when you think there can never
be a day where a smile can kick through all the junk of yesterday-- there comes
along this camel out of nowhere. And,
just like the strong hand of fate made of straw, the straw takes hold of that
camel and pushes him here and there until finally the camel just tosses in the
proverbial camel hair towel. The camel
shouts out … enough, damn fate, I don’t
have to take this; I have had enough! That’s when everything in your life takes on a
renewal … that’s when you have the guts to stand up to yourself! And, perhaps for
the first time, you meet a better, stronger you.
But, Disappointment is my BFF.
I feel safe in my relationship with Disappointment. I can count on my friend to be there for me through thick and thin. I don’t want to disappoint my friend.
The time has come, my friend, to face
facts … you are going to disappoint and you will be disappointed. You will see wonder and you will see
despair. You will trust and you will
question. But, a life worthy of your
grandeur will welcome the friendships of confidence and courage as easily as
once disappointment found its respected place inside the coziness of your
weaker self. Yes, I’m going to disappoint you ... but you knew that already. Now, get up and move on!
Goodbye, Disappointment. It’s finally my time … but you knew that
already.
May courage and compassion comfort and
strengthen our soul; disappointment and despair, the infrequent guest just dropping-off
a life lesson ever so often.
Peaceful journeys, my dear kindred
spirits.
You may enjoy visiting my blogs:
Snowflake Hearts
written by
Jeannette
Zink
January 31, 2016
The snowflake hearts were beginning
to twirl downward just slightly east of full moon’s glow. It was definitely the beginning of a theatrical
stage-setting and mystical venue for a historic blizzard. The nice weather people had succeeded in
forecasting the approximate time for the arrival of the first snowflakes and their
anemometers were primed to measure the howling winds that were promised to
reach the criterion for blizzard conditions. Most of the weather reporting viewing
community had abided by the expert guidance to stock their shelves with enough non-perishable
eatables to sustain a hearty soul for at least 3 days or more. The acquisition of water, milk, toilet paper,
chips, hot chocolate, batteries and hand
warmers were all on the “must-have-to-make-it-through” this historic Blizzard of 2016.
I was as prepared as I could be for
history to make its dramatic entrance in my little part of the world on the
east coast of North America. In fact,
the nights and days to follow were best described by the great literary connoisseur
and author of the simply stated descriptive opening sentence to any story – Snoopy of Peanuts fame … “It was a dark and stormy night.”
The fear of losing power, a literal
and emotional prospect, was my big psyche monster under the bed. If the snow drifts were to accumulate up to
the levels of the predicted 30 – 40 inches, how could I possibly keep myself
warm for several days until my power
had been restored? The variety store
hand warmers would not be enough to make it through this monster of a
storm. I would have to face my other
fear – fire – and test the fireplace
in my home, a perfectly fine fireplace that had never been used in 13
years. My brother, who lives a mere
1,800 miles from me, was so kind and supportive to give me the step-by-step
instructions on how to check out the fireplace.
So, putting on my be strong and be
brave armor, I began my expedition to explore the safety net of power
alternative, if needed.
My strength in opening the fireplace
flue damper was surely tested, but I did finally manage to open the
damper. I could almost see the glimmers
of light from the heavens, which was the indicator there were no bird nests
obstructing the escape hatch for uninvited smoke vapors; and, the cold chill of
blizzard winds definitely invaded the confines of the fireplace – another sign,
I determined, that the fireplace was ready for use, if I absolutely… back
against the proverbial wall … kind of moment arrived, and I needed to touch a
flame to the simulated firewood gathered for such an occasion.
The next opposition to surmount was
the closing of the fireplace’s damper. I
am now going to share with you a key mental note from my fireplace checking
experience… use your Smartphone camera to take a picture of the “before opening
the damper” setup. To be more specific, the
camera must capture the image of where the vital “lug” goes in the essential bracket. Because
it will be at this decisive moment when you may question … how does one know
with unquestionable certainty that
the damper is closed? … that you will save yourself a lot of grief and valuable
home heat by just taking a refresher view of the camera’s photo of that
precious “lug.” I was not so clever to
employ such strategy, and my mental camera was a bit foggy. Thus, I did not return the lug to its proper
position and the night’s cold chill found its resting place in my
fireplace. However, the next morning
upon my check of the blessed fireplace, my instincts told me something was
amiss. The thought of flue dampers and
lugs were twirling in my anxious minds-eye.
I turned to modern day technology and search engines to explore the
possible mishap in my fireplace checking adventure. Thank you to the people of Google-land for solving my dilemma. I was able to find a picture of what
constitutes a successfully closed damper and exactly where the royal “lug” goes
in the bracket. I am so proud of me and
I am so grateful to Google-land!!! With this drama now resolved, it was now time
for a hot bowl of gluten-free quinoa and a cup of hot apple cider.
The Blizzard of 2016 did indeed arrive, all 24 – 40 inches of snowflake
hearts with the winds of 40 – 60+ gusts; and, blessedly, few people lost their power … literally and/or emotionally. New skill sets were developed … fireplace
check-up and lug placement. But, most
importantly, the love and support of my family 1,800 miles away were never as
close to me during these monster-under-the-bed-scary-times
as they were during this historic Blizzard
of 2016. Thank you, my dear and
beloved family, and thank you gods of
power for never leaving my side!
Stay warm, my kindred spirits, and be
of encouraging heart … it is now just 7 weeks until the astronomical spring
will come tap dancing on our souls and refreshing signs of renewal will set in
motion our hopes and dreams of boundless warming possibilities.
You may enjoy visiting my blogs:
Sometimes I forget to release the Pause button
written by
Jeannette Zink
January 17, 2016
It is the
season of winter… my mood now synchronized with the pause button on any
electronic device … life set to hibernate (pause)
until the first sighting of spring. The
image of tea leaves settled at the bottom of my cup, as if huddled in a state
of hiatus; patiently wait for the bitter fingers of freezing cold to perform their
burlesque cabaret -- tossing gloves of warmth to the cheers of a more temperate
agreeable climate. Just to get through the first three months of a new year is the goal…
that’s how to survive … just to get
through.
The only
problem with this lifeboat survival tactic for the dreadful days following the winter
solstice is that surprisingly “life is
happening” during this same time slot.
There are things to do, places to go, and goals to be achieved within
contracted expectations. One cannot require
life to pause. Life itself perpetually moves forward in an upright tray position … whether we
hibernate or not; whether we want to move forward or not … life is in motion.
What to do
with this dilemma … living vs. hibernating … is one for the mystics, literary
essayists and the Bible to
address. In my state of lethargy, I turn
to one of my favorite English essayist, James Allen, and to one of my favorite
books in the Bible, Book of Proverbs,
to find the antonymic wisdom in this season of my freezing discontent.
The title of
James Allen’s 1903 essay, As a Man
Thinketh, was influenced by the biblical Book of Proverbs, chapter 23, verse 7 (King James): “As a man thinketh in his heart, so is
he.” Mr. Allen’s literary application of
this verse was one man’s attempt to help all mankind to pull the strings of cerebral
thought to a higher level of understanding and bring … perhaps, kicking and
screaming … to a place of tolerance and insight for the possibilities that may challenge
our winter melancholy of thought. Might
there be a better response than my personal favorite: “No, I cannot take this. I am
going to my warm and safe state of hibernation.
This too shall pass. See you in
the spring.” Could the key to our circumstances be endured beyond our sense
of suspended reality simply by forming “thoughts” that transform us, as if our
winter solstice magician waved their wand of mercy, to a more positive place of
receptive gratitude for this special moment in the four season cycle?
I, for one, will
gladly cast my vote to give Mr. Allen and the biblical verse a try. As I type this essay, I find myself shivering
and dreading going outdoors. The
sunshine-filled sky has now been brushed with the paint of overcast gray
tones. The trumpets sound the imminent
arrival of the royals – Queen of Snow and King of Ice. With this dismal imaginary, I hold tight my
hot cup of cocoa and nibble on the Proustian madeleine cookie in hope that the Remembrance of Things Past will metaphorically spring forth, my winter of spring-like
content. A time when a weary cold night
is greeted by the friendly local meteorologist’s forecast for a prolonged and
gradual warming trend.
Thus, with
the determination of an Allen-ish
decree, I embrace the weeding of my mental winter garden. The weeds of misery and woe replaced with a
sunnier disposition clothed in woolen comfort and toasted by the aroma of hot
apple cider. I hug tight the philosophy
that each day will somehow progress at the pace of each ticking second no
matter how grumpy my attitude toward the day.
Why, I ask the winter gods, do I covet despair when delight is just as
easily an open market commodity all the ready for acquisition? Good question, one can almost hear the gardener
voice with the struggle to unearth each useless mental weed. The seeds of good and fruitful thought are
far more pleasing and productive to the betterment of all things great than one
second of wintry glum. So, why wait to release
the pause button on life? The universe is moving on, with or without
us, and it can be a beautiful ride, if we just let it happen.
Thus, the
gardener’s rake and shovel, tools for eradicating the undesirable twigs, prepare
the landscape of beauty rendered seed by seed.
These are also my tools, my support
group, for a proverbial winter clearance.
The mother of all winter sales … all bad moods are up for grabs … all
must go … the great clear out … making space for the wonders that surely lie in
wait to salute each fresh New Year.
Please do
not waste one second hibernating under the guise of winter doldrums. Life is worthy of more than the effortless wish
to just get through so to harvest the
warmer days of spring. Each day is a
gift and deserves our utmost attention.
My kindred
spirits … please don’t forget to release the pause button on your life … life is happening, now. Hop on the
winter sleigh ride … it just might be fun… regardless the thermostatic setting.
Blessings to
all and try to keep a warm heart and have faith … spring will be here soon! Until
then, enjoy each glorious day.
You may enjoy visiting my blogs:
Dancing with Daddy
“an Adalyn Grace poem”
written by
Jeannette
Zink
Yesterday,
I danced on top of daddy’s toes
Today, I
danced in daddy’s footsteps
Tomorrow,
I dance in the arms of daddy’s unconditional love
I danced
on top of daddy’s toes
Love you,
Daddy
written by
Adalyn
Grace’s great-aunt
Jeannette
Zink
January
16, 2016
Yesterday,
I danced on top of daddy’s toes
holding tight to his strong fingers of love.
Today, I
danced in daddy’s footsteps
clapping
to a tune that only we could hear.
Tomorrow,
I dance in the arms of daddy’s unconditional love
remembering the music
from a time when …
I danced
on top of daddy’s toes
holding
tight to his strong fingers of love.
Love you,
Daddy
Adalyn
Grace
“20
years from today”
The Trampoline Effect
written by
January 8,
2016
The butterfly is a visual beauty with
the deceptive stamina of an Olympic long-distance runner. They are a four-wing powerhouse
with the elegant grace and exquisite decorative coloring that even a patrician
would concede to a less noble position. Their
ancient Greek name is Lepidoptera … the rhythm and sound of the word a sheer
delight … perhaps a poetic jester to a time when dialogue exchange was the
social media of salon gatherings for intellectual debates.
There is another attribute to the
butterfly that has been leaping through my mind. The concept known as the butterfly effect is a
phenomenon where small causes can have large effects. One metaphorical example I read about on Wikipedia is that of a hurricane:
Imagine the implications
of this concept when it comes to everyday exchanges that occur among the human
race. An innocent smile is casually
shared with the person so lonely that their heart gradually breaks from the
weight of a silenced world. The messages
that always end with “we miss you and
love you” … may be taken for granted by some; but, not by those who have
forfeited this rare gift. The Christmas
gift of a trampoline to a child, absorbing the world at the speed of light, may
be the butterfly effect of learning for tomorrow’s new discoveries.
Each of these
superficial actions may mean zilch to the abstract vision hosting our content
of day to day events. After all, the
chaos faced in just trying to make it from Point A to Point B is enough to make
a butterfly take the next u-turn in search of a calmer air current. Regardless of the benefactor, butterfly or
trampoline, we must not squander a single blasé act. For each may be the mustard seed that will
change loneliness to hopefulness; a superficial existence to worthiness; and, a
young life prepared to meet the challenges of tomorrow.
Remember when you once
bounced and tumbled on a trampoline … remember the bliss of flying through the
air as if on the wings of a butterfly.
Maybe the effect was a
lifetime of joy in learning from the possibilities that greeted each new brave leap
of faith.
May the whisper of the
butterfly wings touch your heart and the springs of a trampoline your joyful
companion as you travel this unpredictable lifetime journey. Learn from each twist and turn, and have
faith in each mustard seed.
Peace and love, my
kindred spirits.
You may enjoy visiting my blogs:
The Trampoline Effect
written by
Jeannette
Zink
January 8,
2016
The butterfly is a visual beauty with
the deceptive stamina of an Olympic long-distance runner. They are a four-wing powerhouse
with the elegant grace and exquisite decorative coloring that even a patrician
would concede to a less noble position. Their
ancient Greek name is Lepidoptera … the rhythm and sound of the word a sheer
delight … perhaps a poetic jester to a time when dialogue exchange was the
social media of salon gatherings for intellectual debates.
There is another attribute to the
butterfly that has been leaping through my mind. The concept known as the butterfly effect is a
phenomenon where small causes can have large effects. One metaphorical example I read about on Wikipedia is that of a hurricane:
“The exact time of the hurricane’s formation
and the exact path it took were influenced by the minor perturbations, such as
the flapping of the wings of a distant butterfly several weeks earlier.”
Imagine the implications
of this concept when it comes to everyday exchanges that occur among the human
race. An innocent smile is casually
shared with the person so lonely that their heart gradually breaks from the
weight of a silenced world. The messages
that always end with “we miss you and
love you” … may be taken for granted by some; but, not by those who have
forfeited this rare gift. The Christmas
gift of a trampoline to a child, absorbing the world at the speed of light, may
be the butterfly effect of learning for tomorrow’s new discoveries.
Each of these
superficial actions may mean zilch to the abstract vision hosting our content
of day to day events. After all, the
chaos faced in just trying to make it from Point A to Point B is enough to make
a butterfly take the next u-turn in search of a calmer air current. Regardless of the benefactor, butterfly or
trampoline, we must not squander a single blasé act. For each may be the mustard seed that will
change loneliness to hopefulness; a superficial existence to worthiness; and, a
young life prepared to meet the challenges of tomorrow.
Remember when you once
bounced and tumbled on a trampoline … remember the bliss of flying through the
air as if on the wings of a butterfly.
Maybe the effect was a
lifetime of joy in learning from the possibilities that greeted each new brave leap
of faith.
May the whisper of the
butterfly wings touch your heart and the springs of a trampoline your joyful
companion as you travel this unpredictable lifetime journey. Learn from each twist and turn, and have
faith in each mustard seed.
Peace and love, my
kindred spirits.
You may enjoy visiting my blogs:
Stepping Stones for the Kindred of Spirit
written by
January 7,
2016
Dream
Each dancing with our soul;
Each a reason for our hopes;
Stepping Stones for the Kindred of Spirit
Words for Adalyn Grace
~ an Adalyn Grace essay ~
written by
Jeannette Zink
My near perfection great-niece,
Adalyn Grace, is beginning to build quite the portfolio of essential words to
communicate her needs, wants, and desires.
On January 4, 2016, Miss Adalyn found herself dancing on the trampoline of
400 words ready to spring into service.
She was also rejecting the suggestions of her incredibly patient and
gifted mother with the respectful learned words, “No, thank you.” Allow me to
set the context of these amazing feats … Adalyn Grace is nineteen-months-old and
absolutely brilliant … just this morning, Adalyn was found relaxing on her
favorite sofa enjoying the light reading of a Star Wars book. I rest my
case and subjective judgment of Adalyn Grace’s brilliance!
I am sorry to report that by the time
I was the age of Adalyn I had only managed to figure out how to insert a hair pin
into a light socket. Needless to say, my
skills did not receive the same accolades as that of Adalyn’s verbal dexterity. Instead, the radius of the neighbor geography
was greeted with waves of darkness and reset
fuse buttons were searched for high and low. I am fairly certain that the nice people in
the community expressed plenty of well-chosen descriptive words found inhabiting
their lexicon of exasperation.
As I complete this sentence, I
suspect Adalyn Grace will have acquired at least twenty new words and assembled
them in her treasure chest of tomorrow’s narrative. Her words, acting as objects for a future collage,
wait in reserve for the day when needed for a praised sentence. That day will come in the not too distant
future, and will be met with applaud and delight that another milestone has so
quickly been achieved with the help and love of an unwavering support team …
loving parents, grandparents, family and friends.
It has been said that a picture is
worth a thousand words. Adalyn Grace,
you are well on your way to the 1,000 mark of worthy speech collectibles. Here are two words that I hope will be a part
of your vocabulary playlist for a lifetime… HAPPY and JOY.
Enjoy the journey, precious and
brilliant, Adalyn Grace.
Making space for a little Kindness
written by
Jeannette
Zink
January 4,
2016
There are
stages in our lives when we are profoundly confident in ourselves. We surrender our qualms and set them aside
with a self-assured glance. Our wishes tossed to the heavens and easily lasso
with the blink of a star. Dreams caught
with the whisper of a butterfly’s wings. These are the magical times when we
are at our best. We know who we are
intended to be and our intended purpose.
It is the pleasant intersection of timing when the moon and sun join
hands and dance a delightful jig in the glow of rainbow questions and starlight
answers. Life is good and there is no
stopping the mystical karma … climb, climb as fast as you can to the top of
your dreams … your time is now!
This learning
journey to finding our best self was not an easy one. There were surely twists and turns on our adventure
when the gods of the universe turned a deft ear to our pleas for alternative
paths. We demanded answers for our prized
dilemmas … answers with a due date of yesteryear. At first, the wait was not pleasant. We put up a great fight for our self-imposed
timeline was imminent. The struggle one-sided
as we fought within ourselves for the things we deemed vital for our existence.
Then one day
we stopped to breathe; we brought down our fists of fear; and, we paused for a
clear look at the space we had frivolously occupied. The space we had not given a second thought
of respect for the unassuming legroom of comfort. After all, a sliver of the cosmos was owed to
us by the sheer fact that we existed.
Our arrogant demands to be tolerated … we had places to go, things to
do, people to see.
Our
proclaimed space, reluctantly forgiving the whims of our less than evolved self,
suddenly assumed an enchanting kaleidoscope of compassion that only our better
self could have ever seen or appreciated.
The people in our sphere became kinder, or was it us who became kinder;
love for one another a way of life; and, the space we occupied was more
generous to the needs of others than that of our own.
Kindness and
love are powerful gifts and can take up a lot of space, if we just let
them. The space in my world has
certainly grown once I let these welcomed gifts into my life.
Blessings
and love to all … may your space in life be enlarged and shared by these
powerful gifts.
You may enjoy visiting my blogs:
Courage is a place
where Happiness finds its Heroes
written by
Jeannette
Zink
January 3,
2016
The other morning I was channel
cruising on my non-SMART, non-HD and non-4K television. I stumbled upon the tail end of a children’s
program on WETA/PBS. My channel changing
finger was all set to click to the next venue of choice when I heard these
words of wisdom spoken from T. rex on the Dinosaur
Train … “When I found my courage, I became happy.” I could barely move from my human tracks and
fingers were frozen in mid-air of a click.
What had just happened – a lifetime of searching for happiness – finally
declared and definitively described from the mouth of a whimsically charming dinosaur!
What do you know about happiness and
courage, Mr. Dinosaur Train conductor
… you are just a figment of imagination created inside the minds of a creative animation
team and writers for a children’s program.
Why should I take a made-up dinosaur to heart in my never-ending pursuit
of happiness? Really, has it come to this, Jeannette … taking advice from a
dinosaur!
So, I shrug and strut around with a huff
and puff swagger reasoning that this is nothing more than a silly kid’s
television program far beneath my intellectual competency. Let’s just see what the experts have to say
about courage and happiness. I turned to
the twenty-first century e-book of knowledge, GOOGLE, to fact check this little smarty pants of a dinosaur. Well, the internet indeed is a wealth of
information, even on philosophical, emotional and psychological topics as the thesis
of courage and happiness. While my
research only scratched the surface of this hypothesis that courage and
happiness may be linked to a life of bliss, I am leaning toward the side of the
Mr. Dinosaur Train conductor. That’s right, my friends, dinosaurs may have
been the first philosophers to roam the happy trails of earth. They were certainly courageous as they fought
the good fight to stay alive, while perhaps much less worried about finding
their true state of happiness.
I will admit that in watching the
recent movie, Jurassic World, I did
witness the occasional smile of courageous victory on the faces of the brave
dinosaurs as they scrambled to safety and/or were in hot pursuit of the
genetically modified dinosaur, Indominus rex.
One could even see a bit of a wink in the eye of the friendly Blue dinosaur as a show of courage to
protect the alpha hunk Chris Pratt and the fellow cast of characters.
Moving from the days of dinosaurs to
the world of great American novelists and short story writers … I quote Nathaniel
Hawthorne: Happiness is not found in things you possess, but in what you have the
courage to release.
No matter the source of our garnered
wisdom – dinosaurs, philosophers, or novelists – we will know it when we see
it/hear it/feel it with our hearts and accept as a way of life … be brave, be strong, and be courageous … these
are our stepping stones to everlasting happiness.
I leave you with one of my favorite
all time biblical quotes: Jeremiah 29:11
‘For I know the plans that I have for
you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a
future and hope….
Enjoy your
courageous journey, my kindred spirits, there is a smiley face waiting at the
release of each fear and doubt. Courage is a place where happiness finds its
hero in each of us.
You may enjoy visiting my blogs:
Cookie Prayers … in due respect
~ an Adalyn Grace essay
~
written by
Jeannette Zink
January 1, 2016
My
nineteen-month-old phenomenally terrific great-niece, Adalyn Grace, insists
that her cookies receive a proper blessing before she will take so much as one
morsel of a bite. So, heads are bowed,
hands are linked and prayers are offered in respect to the gracious God who has
seen fit to provide today’s selection of savory cookies at the table of this
most earnest child and her loving family.
One may
expect that there be only one prayer voiced for the entire spread of the cookie
platter. However, one would be
underestimating this child’s intention to pay homage to our dear Lord of all
things great and small. Thus, each
cookie is blessed before the sugary delectable may be consumed by the parents
and grandparents of this extraordinary and … I am just going to say it …
brilliant child.
On the
surface, this gesture of blessing the revered cookies may appear to be nothing
more than a really cute emulation of “like mommy and daddy so goes the child” minute. But, then my mind begins to meander through
the fields of “but wait a minute” where I find myself in a land of “wake-up
calls.” It is at this precise intersection
of pause and reflection that I have a
V-8 moment, and take respectful note
of this beautiful child’s unassuming grace and loving spirit. A clarion chime is heard and an understanding
of the importance in thanking God for the trivial gifts that make our lives
just a little more sweetly bearable … like Adalyn Grace’s sacred cookies … is chiseled
into my conscious. Thank you, Adalyn
Grace, for putting life in perspective – you are the mentor to lead us in
conducting our life as God intended.
Today just
happens to be the start of a brand new clean canvas of a New Year. A whole new plate of cookies await our consumption,
but only after we take an Adalyn Grace moment
to say our sincere prayers in due respect
for this delicious life of God’s grace and shining light of love.
Blessings
and Happy New Year … my dear family, friends and kindred spirits!!!
Givers and Receivers
… ‘tis the season
written
by
Jeannette Zink
December 13, 2015
‘Tis that time of year when, at the first chime of a silver
bell, we leap into the spirit of gifting … lists are jotted down, decisions made
and fretted over, mad dash from store to store in search of THE perfect gift,
and the inevitable regret of ill-chosen presents to be consigned for re-gifting
… yes, the fun time of the year is in full poinsettia bloom. The season when givers and receivers deck
their holiday spirits with hearts of gold and ponder which side of the coin
purse to pay homage … the giver or the receiver side of humanity’s best kindheartedness.
It is a proven biblical fact that in Acts 20:35 the undeniably
best position to take on this issue is to be on the giver side of the noble coin … “it
is more blessed to give than to receive.”
So, what more is there to think about if it is a given proclamation of
biblical proportion? Why would we even
pause to give a second thought when there are so many other important decisions
to make, like what to give Aunt Agnes this year -- she who has a lifetime of everything
one could possibly want or require. But,
be that as it may, I find myself circling this intriguing aspect of seasonal
mayhem … giving vs. receiving.
Then it hit me, just like the meticulously chosen Christmas
tree that sprung from a car’s roof top in the middle of a very busy
intersection, maybe it is not an either/or kind of Socratic question – perhaps
there is space for the conjunctive “and” to join in the festive season of
goodwill and eggnog cheer.
Recently, I had the
opportunity to visit with a Subject
Matter Expert in the field of giving and receiving. The following is an excerpt of my interview
with the renowned, Mr. Santa Claus:
JZ Good morning, Mr. Santa Claus. Thank you for taking a few minutes to visit
with me. I know what a busy time of year
it is for you and your team.
SC Happy Holidays to you! It is my pleasure to talk with you. I sense you have a few questions that have
been giving you some cause to take a step back from your usual course this
holiday season.
JZ You are very perceptive Mr. Claus. I have been doing a little cerebral debate on
the question of which is better … to be a giver
or a receiver of all things good
during the holidays.
SC Yes, that is an intriguing question -- one
that givers rarely have the
opportunity to allocate a second thought.
The givers are too preoccupied
in their herculean quest for the perfect
gift. I do chuckle when I see them so
ruffled in the scrabble for the perfect
gift, the perfect wrapping, the perfect decoration, the perfect … I digress. Let’s get back to your question.
JZ If you could share your thoughts on this
question of giving vs. receiving, it would be very helpful to all the givers that are in such a frenzy to find
the absolute ideal gift. It appears that
the givers may be on the short end of
this peppermint stick. You know what I
mean, Mr. Claus?
SC Yes, indeed, I do know what you mean. My helpers and I work very hard all year to
find just the right gifts. Oh, what joy
when the deliveries are finally made to the intended recipients!
JZ Have you ever considered not being the giver, but rather a receiver of these precious gifts?
SC Well, it has been my experience that to
give is to receive.
JZ Please elaborate on this concept.
SC Gifts come in all kinds of beautifully
wrapped packages. I think the best gifts
are the ones that are wrapped in love, tied by ribbons of laughter and dance
with the sparkling lights of simply BELIEVING in the mystery of the
unseen. These are gifts that will travel
a lifetime journey in the hearts of young and old … gifts that make the giver a big time winner, in my humble
opinion.
JZ Are you saying that you are really the
recipient of these gifts that you deliver to others? You get the better deal in this gifting
transaction!
SC Yes, I do believe that I am a blessed
recipient of the giving season. The
tangible and nicely wrapped gift is an expression of something far grandeur
than its content. The giver is sharing their grace-filled love
with each gift. The receiver of the gift
returns twice over their appreciation and gratitude for our kindness. My heart sprouts wings of joy, and my
reindeer and I take flight to make more deliveries … surprisingly, the heavy load is never
too heavy.
JZ So, in a way, it is not a question of
either/or … either you give or you receive … maybe …
SC Allow me to finish your thought, if I
may. By giving we receive such wonderful blessings, and by receiving we give such wonderful blessings back to
our giver. Just think about how you feel when you give someone a gift. Your heart is so full of joy that even the
reindeer have trouble finding a place to park their sleigh.
JZ Maybe,
we are all givers and receivers
in one way or another. It’s just that
the packaging comes in many different styles and form. The Mistletoe Express of win-win, as it were.
SC Are you familiar with Acts 20:35 … “it is more blessed to give than to
receive.”
JZ Yes, I am familiar. And, for the first time, I think I may have
discovered the North Star of understanding its intended meaning … what a
wonderful gift!! Thank you, Mr. Claus,
for spending all this time with me and helping me navigate through this giving and receiving maze.
SC The pleasure was all mine. What a wonderful gift you have given me. Enjoy the giving season, no matter what time
of year it may be. It’s like the soft swirl
of whipped cream topped with chocolate sprinkles on a hot cup of cocoa … the
perfect finishing touch. HO HO HO!!!
JZ See you next year, Mr. Claus. Have a safe journey.
SC May your joyful spirit know the love in giving and the graceful blessing in receiving THE perfect gift … blessings
and peace to all and to all a good night.
Love is THE perfect gift … given and received with no
strings … wrapped with passion and grateful joy … a precious gift valued most
when shared.
Peace and Love … my dear family, friends and kindred
spirits.
Popular Word … takes on a life of its own
written by
Jeannette Zink
November 29, 2015
I have a
passion for words. So, when an
interesting word begins to repeatedly show up in conversations, my lexis-loving
heart sends hugs and kisses to the alphabet universe of well-arranged
letters.
One such
intriguing word that seems to casually find its way between the exchange of
thoughts and decorative elaboration of topics is the word narrative. I love the beauty
of its intoxicating sound. The visual on
the page of this delightful word is like viewing a romantic waltz as the letters
dance in rhythmic composition. I almost
feel like attempting a curtsy to show my respect to its elegance.
First things
first, let’s review the Oxford Dictionary’s definition of this beauty of a word…
narrative (adjective): describing events or telling a story. See what I mean – even the definition is
simply exquisite.
Before I
know it, I begin to build this beauty of a word into my sentences. After all, I am a well-educated person; I cannot
be left behind at the expressive engine-language gate. No, I will consciously insert this graceful
word in with my community of words used to form sentences -- telling my story -- in the spirit of
human verbal interaction.
Just the other day, I wove in a little refined pizazz,
in what could have been a very ordinary sentence, by embroidering my best new
friend-word, narrative. Are you ready for this …. Every
story has two sides, some day we will learn the narrative to this untold side. See what I mean … just makes one want to
dance a jig with this catchy linguistic partner. One of those… you had me at narrative … kind of moments.
Life offers
many joys … the narratives are
endless. Go out in the world, my
friends, and tell your narrative. The narrative
you share will soon take on a life of its own … oh, the places a narrative can and will go!
May we all enjoy
the narrative of each new day.
In the beginning ...
written by
Jeannette Zink
September 23, 2015
I love a good book, especially its exquisite opening paragraph. The writer is immediately establishing a pledge of expectation to me, the reader, in those first few chosen words. A bond of assurance sealed with the author's mark of a pen and the remarkable journey ready to commence. The rollercoaster ride of text is bound for twists and turns and fine-tuned melodic artistry. The writer has cautiously cherry-picked a cleverly structured sentence with its impeccable and attractive punctuation. We can now hitch our proverbial wagon to that undeniable quest for the next grand sentence and the next. The sheer placement of a comma or the companion semicolon may easily stir an emotional longing of remembrance when life's bitter fruit was sweeter and our dreams held a glow so bright that the night wore sunglasses. The rhythm and sound of words, intuitively placing our mind in an upright position and a toe tapping attention to each strung together phrase.
These are the labors and joys of the artistic storyteller ... to garner our willingness to travel this journey of majestic prose. It may be a risky expedition since we can never be guaranteed, as in life, that the beginning will play out as hinted; the in-between as entertaining as was pledged; or, the ending as we may had secretly hoped by the time the writer's last word is laid to rest on the page. The End provoking a sense of bravery that our time was well spent on a good read. If not ... oh well, there are always other books. The infinite possibilities of opening paragraphs - some even grand - await us with each new book. Our sense of smell tweaked by each glorious page as we eagerly open the gift of that first paragraph.
Read on, my friends ... read on ... because in the beginning... there just may be an exquisite opening paragraph.
Shadows in the Light
written by
Jeannette Zink
The scent of today no longer our concern--
just sweet ash memories;
shadows of tomorrow now free to dance in new day's light--
turn cartwheels on lavender waves of hope.
The Face of Success
written by
Jeannette Zink
Jeannette Zink
August 6, 2015
I have decided to give success a face of expression. I have also decided that the question to be addressed is not “where do I expect to be in 5 years”. It does not matter where I am on the landscape of this earthly plane. What does matter is the defining of success for wherever I may find myself -- how does it look, what are its feelings, does it have meaning bigger than the parts, will it bring good to the universe … Yes, the more relevant question to be explored is “what will success look like for me in 5 years”. The reflection I hope to see in the mirror of tomorrow’s future will have the features of a well-defined foundation for living a life of success.
The evolving life that is all mine will have the necessary tools and descriptive vocabulary to measure the net worth of my contributions and the expected benefits to the intended recipients… this will be my worldly view of success. So, where I choose to be, who I choose to befriend, and how I get from A to Z on my lifetime journey will be evaluated against the weight of relevance to these thoughtfully examined success values.
How to go about this rather lofty task of finding meaning for an abstract concept of success is the first challenge… lists are good, but what kind of lists. Perhaps I should first define what success does not look like, maybe then I will find my way to what it does look like … let’s try that approach, and see where it takes us.
Success does not look like…
Big time job title
Big time box top in an organizational structure
Knowing the right people in “high places”
Awards, big bonuses, top of the pay scale and career ladder accomplishments
Winning in the game of office politics
High performance ratings
Successes far outweigh failures
Home, cars, clothes, and impressive residential address
Educational degree(s) and powerhouse resume
So, what does success look like, by my definition…
Do I love more, hurt less
Do I accept the me that I have become
Do I try new things without the worry of failure
Do I find the joy in just doing because it brings satisfaction
Do I laugh more; cry less
Do I have the love and respect of a family who accepts me with all my flaws
Do I show and say love to those I cherish
Do I give without the expectation of receiving anything in return
Do I accept being loved without apprehension
Do I accept not being the best at whatever the perceived competition
Do I accept not being the center of attention
Do I accept my fragile and aging mind and body
Do I accept a helping hand graciously when needed
Do I graciously give a helping hand when needed
Do I accept that not everyone will love and accept who I am
Do I acknowledge and accept my mistakes
Do I believe and accept that God loves the imperfect me
Do I love me
Do I give back more than I take
Do I trust more than distrust
Do I value exploring the questions more than just finding an answer
Do I laugh and giggle more than frown
Do I say YES more than NO to all of the above…
if YES, then maybe this is the Face of my SUCCESS!
to be continued…
Not A Good Fit
written by
Jeannette Zink
August 11, 2015
I have an observation to share with you…
Fact -- pieces of a puzzle are all perfectly cut and each designed to fit precisely as depicted on the box top. And, here is my imagined emotional assumption -- puzzle pieces must feel wonderfully proud and confident … to know without question that they have a place in the grand scheme of puzzle pieces; to know they will naturally fit; to know acceptance by the other pieces; to know the important role they play in puzzle life. Therefore, my summation -- each puzzle piece is simply a good fit in the world where they live.
But, what if a puzzle piece is not a “a good fit”; what if one piece in a 2,000 puzzle-piece puzzle is slightly misaligned with the pattern of the puzzle; what if they were accidently placed inside the wrong puzzle box … what if they just do not fit? Will the puzzle piece’s value be forever diminished simply due to human error; will they find a life of existence inside their imperfections; or, will they find a place where they can fit in better … a place where their uniqueness is celebrated. Will not being a good fit be actually the perfect fit?
These questions and more may accompany our friendly puzzle piece misfit as they travel the journey of discovering who they are and what they are willing to do to be a “good fit” in “puzzle” life – a life where they may not fit in as neatly as seen in the picture on the box top.
I am beginning to appreciate that place of “not a good fit”… a place where examining and questioning may lead to a “better fit” for what is right for me… the perfectly imperfect me.
Best wishes to all you imperfect puzzle pieces out there. Please know you do not travel alone!
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