The Indescribable Wow (Sam Phillips)

DailyOM
July 29, 2009
An Instant Vacation
Relaxing at Home

Throughout our lives, most of us are led to believe that relaxation is best pursued outside of the home. As a result, we spend months anticipating weeklong vacations, seldom fully appreciating the leisure time we are blessed with on a more regular basis. It is possible, however, to reexperience the same utterly relaxed state you slip into while on holiday within your home’s walls. The feelings of serenity you enjoy during a vacation are a product of your outlook rather than your locale. You give yourself permission to enjoy yourself and unwind while on vacation. Granting yourself the same privilege while at home allows you to experience complete relaxation, even when surrounded by routine.

Our homes can be distracting places as most survival tasks are addressed there. Reviving the tranquility you felt on holiday is as easy as creating an atmosphere that helps you relax. First, divest yourself of the notion that messes must be cleaned up immediately and reaffirm that relaxation is as vital as physical nourishment. Then, set the mood. Music that reminds you of a beloved vacation destination can put you in a vacation mind-set. The exotic flavor of a tropical beverage or the spiciness a favorite ethnic dish can transport you to a more restful mental space. Finally, put aside your projects and commit to doing only what you consider truly pleasurable. Your responsibilities will wait as you put up your feet and revel in peacefulness that comes from within.

If you find it difficult to ignore the temptation to simply fall back into your usual schedule, consider that relaxation should occupy a prominent place on your to-do list. You deserve to take "you time" and to care for yourself, even during life’s busy periods. While you may not always be able to get away from it all, you can still nurture yourself and regain your peace of mind.

It's been an exhausting few days - last week's visitation and funeral seem forever ago, plus I had Sarah here until mid-day Saturday. Sunday found me, Mari and Brad getting together for our first family dinner without mom - I continue to be amazed at how quiet the house is without her oxygen concentrator, her TV in the background and her palpable energy field. She spent all of each and every day at one corner of the couch... her "nook", as we termed it - a few days after her death, I placed a couch pillow, flat, on the empty space, and on top of that a plastic tiara from mom's 70th surprise birthday party. It stayed there to mark her place throughout the visitors, the extended family gathering, the post-funeral-mass get-together - it will remain indefinitely...

On Sunday Mari, Brad and I read aloud a copy of the will - everything will of course be split three ways, although there is not much, understandably, as mom lived on a limited income (retirement and Social Security). Once the house is sold, the proceeds will be 70/30 (the former to the three of us, the latter to her second husband's son and daughter) - there is some money in CDs and IRAs, which will also be thirded. What we thought would be the most difficult has in fact been easiest: the distribution of mom's belongings - Mari and I have spent the last two days going through the house room by room, and comparing it to the inventory I did with mom when I visited last January.

Mari recently divorced and moved into another house in her same neighborhood - money is tight and, although she's done a beautiful job of decorating, there were still three rooms with virtually nothing in them. I don't need furniture and neither does my brother... so it's comforting to know that Mari will turn the downstairs bedroom into an "homage" to mom, complete with mom's childhood bedroom furniture (a lovely maple dresser and nightstand), the Hummel latchhook rug mom crafted and mom and Ralph's framed wedding invitation - Mari will be able to use mom's dining room table and eight chairs and buffet... as well as furnish an upstairs bedroom (sporting a lighthouse wallpaper border) with mom's futon, nightstands and dresser from her and Ralph's bedroom furniture and mom's lighthouse collection (many of which Mari gave to mom over the years)...

I will be bringing home an antique washstand that was my grandmother's (my father's mom), a cherished piece with many memories, as well as a lovely baker's rack to use on the patio and many household items (linens and glassware) - Brad will get mom's wicker patio furniture, her everyday dishes and flatware, the TVs, the painting over the couch, some small appliances and mom's cutting board (which her father, who was in the linoleum business, made). We have all chosen various knick-knacks and religious paraphernalia - next week we will call in the neighbors to see what items they'd like to have to remember mom by, and then we'll donate the rest.

As I'm Executrix of the will, I've also started proceedings with the lawyer, followed up on with the funeral home to find out when we'll receive the death certificates, called the church to thank them again for doing such a beautiful job with the service - our next step is bringing in a realtor to take a look at the house and then put it on the market. A big plus in our situation is that Mari's college sweetheart/current boyfriend is in process of getting a divorce, which should be final in the next few weeks - we've discussed him renting mom's house for at least six months. He will keep the house show-ready for potential buyers... and we will have the mortgage payment/utilities covered as well as someone trustworthy staying there - win/win...

So... with all of this going on, I decided I was taking a day off today - Mari is at Six Flags with Julia and friends, Brad went back to work... and I'm going to enjoy a well-deserved "staycation" (as Mari terms it). There is still much to be done with my business brain (including massive amounts of thank you notes) but, for today, all will be put on hold while I regroup/recoup from the hard-hitting emotional drain of the last week... and the exhaustion of the last two months - as soon as I hit Publish Post, I'm going to soak in a hot bath, curl up with a good book, nap (I slept very poorly last night, unusual for me) and generally nurture myself. It's much-needed and long-overdue - then I can get back to it tomorrow with grace and style and, most importantly, energy...

Speaking of WOW, which was the jumping-off place for this post, I reprint below a paragraph from my eulogy - one week later and I still glance down at my wrist with joy and memory (love you, MOM!)...

Mom was absolutely prepared... physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually – and because she was, it helped all of us to be. Monday, as you can well imagine, was most difficult – Mari, Brad and I spent many hours with Theresa at the church and James at the funeral home, finalizing last-minute details for last night's visitation and today's mass. At the end of a very long day, the three of us headed to the local tattoo parlor in Buford and we each got a memorial inking on our wrist, with the saying “it is what it is”, which was on the bracelet my children had given her for Christmas last year and which she never took off – we also put the date of her passing, 7/19/09, as well as the word mom (which upside-down spells wow, a word she was fond of using after a bad breathing episode). It was a healing and bonding experience for us, as we begin to navigate the journey of life without Connie – what a legacy she left us, which we are passing on to our children, who will in turn pass it on to theirs.

SONG: The Indescribable Wow by Sam Phillips (yeah, I know it's the title of an album not a song!)

BOOK: What A Coincidence!: The wow! factor in synchronicity and what it means in everyday life by Susan M. Watkins

POEM: To My Mother by Wendell Berry

I was your rebellious son,
do you remember? Sometimes
I wonder if you do remember,
so complete has your forgiveness been.

So complete has your forgiveness been
I wonder sometimes if it did not
precede my wrong, and I erred,
safe found, within your love,

prepared ahead of me, the way home,
or my bed at night, so that almost
I should forgive you, who perhaps
foresaw the worst that I might do,

and forgave before I could act,
causing me to smile now, looking back,
to see how paltry was my worst,
compared to your forgiveness of it

already given. And this, then,
is the vision of that Heaven of which
we have heard, where those who love
each other have forgiven each other,

where, for that, the leaves are green,
the light a music in the air,
and all is unentangled,
and all is undismayed.

QUOTE: "We cannot live for ourselves alone. Our lives are connected by a thousand invisible threads, and along these sympathetic fibers, our actions run as causes and return to us as results." ~ Herman Melville

For a Dancer (Jackson Browne)

Today is the one week anniversary of my mom's passing - I still don't feel much like "talking"... but I will soon enough, and appreciate the patience and understanding of my friends as I navigate the noisy quiet... :-)

In the meantime, you can read mom's obituary and eulogy on her CaringBridge site - I know she would have been proud of us...

SONG: For a Dancer by Jackson Browne

BOOK: Unexpected Blessings: Finding Hope and Healing in the Face of Illness by Roxanne Black

POEM: Miracle of Bubbles by Barbara Goldberg

A woman drives to the video store

to rent a movie. It is Saturday night,

she is thinking of nothing in particular,

perhaps of how later she will pop popcorn

or hold hands with her husband and pretend

they are still in high school. On the way home

a plane drops from the sky, the wing shearing

her roof of her car, killing her instantly.

Here is a death, it could happen to any of us.

Her husband will struggle the rest of his days

to give shape to an event that does not mean

to be understood. Since memory cannot operate

without plot, he chooses the romantic — how young

she was, her lovely waist, or the ironic — if only

she had lost her keys, stopped for pizza.

At the precise moment the plane spiraled

out of control, he was lathering shampoo

into his daughter's hair, blond and fine

as cornsilk, in love with his life, his

daughter, the earth (for "cornsilk" is how

he thought of her hair), in love with the miracle

of bubbles, how they rise in a slow dance,

swell and shimmer in the steamy air, then

dissolve as though they never were.

QUOTE: "The death of someone we know always reminds us that we are still alive - perhaps for some purpose which we ought to re-examine." ~ Mignon McLaughlin

Long Goodbye (Amy Carol Webb)

Constance (Concetta) Izzo Driskell Maresco

September 9, 1930 - July 19, 2009

Mom passed away peacefully in her sleep about 7:00 this morning, July 19, 2009. We are currently in process of contacting friends and relatives and will keep everyone posted as to details of funeral arrangements as they unfold. Mari and Brad are at Mom's house now and Sue will be flying back up later today. Thanks in advance to all for your continued love, support and prayers.

Please check Mom's CaringBridge Journal and Guestbook for updates - long story short: ultimately, mom was prepared... physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually (she really did do it Her Way... :-)

P.S. Synchronistically, it's also the seventh anniversary of the death of Dave Carter - those who know me will understand the significance...

SONG: Long Goodbye by Amy Carol Webb (link to YouTube video)

BOOK: Nobody's Child: How Older Women Say Good-Bye to Their Mothers by Diane Sher Lutovich

POEM: Funeral Blues by W. H. Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

QUOTE(S): "Grief, when it comes, is nothing we expect it to be... After my mother died I received a letter from a friend in Chicago, a former Maryknoll priest, who precisely intuited what I felt. The death of a parent, he wrote, 'despite our preparation, indeed, despite our age, dislodges things deep in us, sets off reactions that surprise us and that may cut free memories and feelings that we had thought gone to ground long ago. We might, in that indeterminate period they call mourning, be in a submarine, silent on the ocean's bed, aware of the depth charges, now near and now far, buffeting us with recollections.' "~ Joan Didion

"...it's not really when you die. It's whether or not you really lived."~ Jerri Nielsen

No Place Like Om (Troubadours of Divine Bliss)

". . . love your solitude and try to sing out with the pain it causes you. for those who are near you are far away, you write, and this shows that the space around you is beginning to grow vast. And if what is near you is far away, then your vastness is already among the stars and is very great; be happy about your growth, in which of course you can't take anyone with you, and be gentle with those who stay behind; be confident and calm in front of them and don't torment them with your doubts and don't frighten them with your faith or joy, which they wouldn't be able to comprehend.

Seek out some simple and true feeling of what you have in common with them, which doesn't necessarily have to alter when you yourself change again and again; when you see them, love life in a form that is not your own and be indulgent toward those who are growing old, who are afraid of the aloneness that you trust. . . . Don't ask for any advice from them and don't expect any understanding; but believe in a love that is being stored up for you like an inheritance, and have faith that in this love there is a strength and a blessing so large that you can travel as far as you wish without having to step outside it." ~ Ranier Maria Rilke "Letters to a Young Poet"

I read the above on a grace-full blog (thanks, Shannon)... and had to include in mine - this is exactly how I'm feeling on the cusp of going back home (home!) for two weeks... after having been with my ailing/aging mom for the last two months. I posted the following to Mom's CaringBridge website over the last few days - this now, more later... of course... :-)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At this point, mom seems to have stabilized enough such that (goddess willing) I'm making plans to go to the Falcon Ridge Folk Festival, a summer staple for me - this will be my 11th year!

I will be away a total of two weeks... flying from Atlanta to Ft. Lauderdale this Thursday July 16, up to Boston Tuesday July 21 (to meet up with a music friend, whereupon we will drive to the festival in upstate New York), back to Ft. Lauderdale after the festival Monday July 27 and return to Atlanta Thursday July 30.

Mari will be holding down the proverbial fort in my absence - I am beyond grateful. I also know she will need help, breaks and support... on the weekends so she can get out of the house for a few hours... and even during the week as she's working from mom's house and might need someone to sit with mom while Mari's having a particularly busy or phone-centric day. Any offer much appreciated and seriously considered - thanks in advance!

I cannot wait to see my husband, my children, my dog, my friends... and my house (my bed, my jacuzzi... even my kitchen) - it's been entirely too long (two months). It's hard not to feel twinges of guilt and/or selfishness for the getaway - however, I know I *wouldn't* even consider it, much less follow through, if mom wasn't at this plateau... and I know she is in such capable hands with Mari. We've been tag-teaming for the last few months and I am fully confident she is up to the exhausting but rewarding task - Brad is also fully on board to do whatever he can to help and support. It does take a village - we are lucky ours is so loving and far-reaching...

Thanks again to all for continued thoughts/prayers/skyward intentions/purple candles and, most importantly, your love and support - it means much... <3>

SONG: No Place Like Om by Troubadours of Divine Bliss (I can't find the lyrics online so this YouTube video of Over the Rainbow will have to do!)

BOOK: Talk Before Sleep by Elizabeth Berg

POEM: What I Believe by Michael Blumenthal

I believe there is no justice,

but that cottongrass and bunchberry

grow on the mountain.

I believe that a scorpion's sting

will kill a man,

but that his wife will remarry.

I believe that, the older we get,

the weaker the body,

but the stronger the soul.

I believe that if you roll over at night

in an empty bed,

the air consoles you.

I believe that no one is spared

the darkness,

and no one gets all of it.

I believe we all drown eventually
in a sea of our making,
but that the land belongs to someone else.

I believe in destiny.

And I believe in free will.

I believe that, when all

the clocks break,
time goes on without them.

And I believe that whatever

pulls us under,
will do so gently.

so as not to disturb anyone,

so as not to interfere

with what we believe in.

QUOTE: "It began in mystery, and it will end in mystery, but what a savage and beautiful country lies in between." ~ Diane Ackerman

La Vie En Rose (Edith Piaf)

DailyOm

July 7, 2009

Opportunity for Reflection

Hard Days

We all have days that seem endlessly difficult and hard. On these days, it is as if the odds are stacked against us and we just can’t get a break as one challenging situation follows another. We may feel like we’re standing in the ocean getting hit by wave after wave, never able to get a full breath. Sometimes it’s necessary or worth it to stay in the fray and work our way through. Other times, the best idea is to go home and take the breath we need in order to carry on.

If the only choice is to get through it, a hard day can be a great teacher. It will eventually end and we can look back on it, taking pride in the stamina, courage, and ingenuity it took to hold our ground. We may also look back and see how we could have done things differently. This knowledge will be valuable when we face hard days in the future. Trust your gut as you’re deciding whether to work through it, and know that sometimes a timely retreat is the best way to ensure a positive outcome. Getting space can remind us that external circumstances are not the whole picture. Once we catch our breath and re-center ourselves, we will be able to determine our next move. With a little perspective, we may even find the inner resources to change our attitude about what’s happening. We may begin to see that what we saw as hardships are actually opportunities. As our attitude changes for the better, our actions and the circumstances will follow suit.

Sometimes all that’s needed is a good night’s sleep. No one is immune to having a hard day and these are usually the times we can learn the most. If we can find it in our hearts to examine the day, and maybe make one small change in perception, we can ease our pain and greet the next day that much wiser.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rob Brezsny's Astrology Newsletter

July 8, 2009

LEO (July 23-Aug. 22): At the farmer's market, an escape artist performed in the middle of the street. As a crowd gawked, he had two big strong men tie him up tight in a straitjacket and 50 feet of chain. For the next 20 minutes he shimmied and contorted and bent over backwards. His face grew red and sweaty. There were no Houdini-like magic tricks. There were no puffs of smoke or magic boxes or mirrors or distracting assistants. He rarely spoke as the ordeal progressed, but in the end, after the last of the chains slipped off and he wrestled his way out of the straitjacket, he said simply, "Now I invite all of you to go home and use what I just did as a metaphor for your life." It was a supremely sexy performance, and I realized maybe it would help you with your current situation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I told a friend the other day that I need to work harder at being softer - I find myself back in that frustrated frame of mind...

As a few of you (who know my backstory) surmise, there is so much going on here emotionally with my mother, especially given our past history - we've always had a power-and-control tug-of-war relationship... mostly with her pulling and me pulling back in self-defense, trying not to get sucked in to that big mudpuddle in the middle!

Interesting to note that now, in the last few months of her life, she's still doing it - I know how powerless she must feel, unable to have much, if any, control over her life at this point... and of course she's going to try to find ways to dig in her heels, just on principle alone. I know she's grateful that I came, that I continue to stay and that I have sacrificed being with family and friends in order to facilitate her health plan - I am truly trying to do this selflessly, and with great love and respect...

It remains difficult... not just the day-to-day tasks but the emotional toll - caregiving is a thankless job, no matter how much anyone verbalizes their gratitude. My younger sister has stepped up in an *amazing* way and, if it weren't for her coming over three mornings a week so I could go to exercise class, and giving me a few nights a week respite at her house while she stays with mom, I'd have long since crossed over into exhaustion and insanity - I am beyond appreciative of her support, especially since she's juggling around a full-time job...

However, I told her the other day it sometimes feels unfairly like joint custody - she's the one who takes mom to Six Flags and orders in from the local seafood restaurant... and I'm the one who makes mom get up for school and eat her vegetables. Then I realized... that's always been our loop - I'm the responsible one (oldest) and Mari's the fun one (youngest). None of us can help the birth order nor the roles we've always played - I can waste time fretting and fuming... or I can just accept the fact that neither is better or worse... and that we actually need both for a balanced lifestyle for mom (I can be fun with my friends and Mari can be responsible with her daughter... :-)

I am at Mari's now, spending last night and tonight (can't believe how rejuvenating two nights in a row is) - since arriving late afternoon yesterday, I have: napped, eaten yummy crabcakes Mari left for me, watched Jeopardy, drunk half a glass of wine, watched a few hours of mindless TV (including Top Chef Masters), started a new-to-me Alice Hoffman novel, gotten a good night's sleep, walked 45 minutes in her neighborhood... and composed and uploaded this blog!

For my remaining time, I plan to: sun/read on the deck, do some much-needed work for my concert series on the computer, make a Target run, take a nap, watch more mindless TV, drink more wine, enjoy a jacuzzi/bath soak, get another good night's sleep... and head directly to exercise class in the morning... after which I'll return to mom's and re-grasp the baton so Mari can revel in a lovely weekend however she chooses...

Thanks, baby sister... for the opportunity to allow me to continue to learn, grow and give - we make a *great* team and I remain in awe of your maturity as well as your fun-loving spirit!

SONG: La Vie En Rose by Edith Piaf

BOOK: Shower of Heavenly Roses: Inspirational True Stories of Healing Guidance, and other Miracles, Atrributed to the Intercession of Therese of the Little Flower by Elizabeth Ficocelli

POEM: Rose Garden, Summer Solstice by Carolyn Miller

Everyone here believes that the roses
are blooming only for them, there where the air

by the formal beds is layered with the scent

of roses. From deep in their flushed and darkening hearts

pour odors of lemons and pepper, apricots, honey,

vanilla and myrrh and musk and semen, apples and quince,

raspberries and wine and ocean, the faint

scent of blood and the fragrance of death and the breath

of the life we are living now, in this place

where the roses are blooming for each of us, alone.

QUOTE: "There are some things, after all, that Sally Owens knows for certain: Always throw spilled salt over your left shoulder. Keep rosemary by your garden gate. Add pepper to your mashed potatoes. Plant roses and lavender, for luck. Fall in love whenever you can." ~ Alice Hoffman

Independence Day (Ferron)

From yesterday's Writer's Almanac:

Today is Independence Day. On this day in 1776, the Second Continental Congress unanimously adopted the Declaration of Independence, and the United States officially broke from the rule of England. The colonists were trying to persuade other nations of Europe to be on their side, so they included a long list of complaints about the king. The document said of the king, in part, "He is, at this Time, transporting large Armies of foreign Mercenaries to complete the Works of Death, Desolation, and Tyranny, already begun with Circumstances of Cruelty and Perfidy, scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous Ages, and totally unworthy the Head of a civilized Nation."

Twenty-four years later, in 1804, the explorers Lewis and Clark had the first Fourth of July celebration west of the Mississippi. They were traveling through a part of the Midwest that is now Kansas. They stopped at the mouth of a creek on July 4th, and named it Independence Creek in honor of the day. To celebrate, they fired their cannon at sunset and distributed an extra ration of whisky to the men.

There were unofficial celebrations of Independence Day from its first anniversary, but it really became a popular holiday after the War of 1812. On the frontier, it was the only time of the year when everyone in the countryside gathered together in one place. There would be parades and speeches, and the prettiest and most wholesome girl in the village would be named the Goddess of Liberty. Politicians would get up and call the king of England a skunk and challenge him to a fight. Drunk men in the streets would get into fights and call each other Englishmen. Soon, events like groundbreaking ceremonies for the Erie Canal and the Baltimore and Ohio Railroads were scheduled to coincide with July 4th festivities.

We're actually honoring the Fourth of July today rather than yesterday (although last night we did watch the PBS concert/fireworks on TV) - we bought an inexpensive grill at Home Depot and will cook out hot dogs and hamburgers, and round out the meal with corn on the cob, potato salad, fresh fruit and a patriotically-decorated chocolate cake. There will be 10 of us (immediate family, significant others and a few friends) - we'll also celebrate two (July 2) birthdays: my husband's and my brother's girlfriend's.

After clean-up time, my husband and I will head back over to my sister's to spend one last night together before he flies back to Florida Monday evening - it's going to be so hard to say goodbye (don't go there yet, Susan!)...

SONG: Independence Day by Ferron

BOOK: Summer: A Spiritual Biography Of The Season by Gary D. Schmidt, Susan M. Felch (editors), Barry Moser (illustrator)

POEM: A Warm Summer in San Francisco by Carolyn Miller

Although I watched and waited for it every day,

somehow I missed it, the moment when everything reached

the peak of ripeness. It wasn't at the solstice; that was only

the time of the longest light. It was sometime after that, when

the plants had absorbed all that sun, had taken it into themselves

for food and swelled to the height of fullness. It was in July,

in a dizzy blaze of heat and fog, when on some nights

it was too hot to sleep, and the restaurants set half their tables

on the sidewalks; outside the city, down the coast,

the Milky Way floated overhead, and shooting stars

fell from the sky over the ocean. One day the garden

was almost overwhelmed with fruition:

My sweet peas struggled out of the raised bed onto the mulch

of laurel leaves and bark and pods, their brilliantly colored

sunbonnets of rose and stippled pink, magenta and deep purple

pouring out a perfume that was almost oriental. Black-eyed Susans

stared from the flower borders, the orange cherry tomatoes

were sweet as candy, the fruit fattened in its swaths of silk,

hummingbirds spiraled by in pairs, the bees gave up

and decided to live in the lavender. At the market,

surrounded by black plums and rosy plums and sugar prunes

and white-fleshed peaches and nectarines, perfumey melons

and mangos, purple figs in green plastic baskets,

clusters of tiny Champagne grapes and piles of red-black cherries

and apricots freckled and streaked with rose, I felt tears

come into my eyes, absurdly, because I knew

that summer had peaked and was already passing

away. I felt very close then to understanding the mystery;

it seemed to me that I almost knew

what it meant to be alive, as if my life had swelled

to some high moment of response, as if I could

reach out and touch the season, as if I were inside

its body, surrounded by sweet pulp and juice,

shimmering veins and ripened skin.

QUOTE: "You have to love a nation that celebrates its independence... with family picnics where kids throw Frisbees, the potato salad gets iffy, and the flies die from happiness." ~ Erma Bombeck

Because (The Beatles)

TUT: A Note from the Universe (yesterday):

What if, Susan, all that you had to look forward to were the things that are free, like sunrises, wagging tails, holding hands, and your imagination. Would it all be worth it?

Probably.

What if you could trade-in some of your free stuff for fabulous wealth, fulfilling work, gorgeous looks, or anything else that your heart desired? Would it all be worth it?

Does a bear sleep in the woods? Is the Pope Catholic? Would you like syrup with your French Toast?

Visualize, Susan. Before the price goes up.

The Universe

Susan, not only are the best things in life free, but you can cash them in for stuff and still have lots left over!

I feel lazy and and loose-limbed and loved, oh my! - and guess what we'd already had for breakfast before I read this?!? (French Toast, of course... :-)

SONG: Because by The Beatles

BOOK: Every Day I Love You More (Just Not Today): Lessons in Loving One Person for Life by Nancy Shulins

POEM: Terms of Endearment by Sue Ellen Thompson

Sweet biscuit of my life,

I've been thinking of your smile
and how I'd steal a little bite
of it if you were here; of the delights

I've known in the alleyway between
the whitewashed storefronts of your teeth;
of how I've pressed one smithereen
after another of mille-feuille, mousseline

of late-night conversation upon your lips,

forever poised at the brink of kissdom,

their slightest sigh enough to lift

a tableskirt. Perfectest pumpkin

in the patch, your heft on mine

is what I crave, your brows so fine

I could not carve them with a steak knife.

You have the acorn eyes

of the football season, the ass

of an autumn afternoon, of boys en masse

in soccer shorts. Yours is the vast

contained candescence of a Titian under glass,

it is the gold leaf laid

by February sun, the lemonade's

pale wash in August. Should you fade,

like sun on windowsills crocheted

with shadow, then suddenly gone dark,

your face will leave its watermark

upon this page, which is already part

of love's confection, our little work of art.

QUOTE: "The eskimos had fifty-two names for snow because it was important to them: there ought to be as many for love." ~ Margaret Atwood

Ah! Sweet Mystery of Life (from Young Frankenstein)

Your horoscope for July 1, 2009

Love and romance are apt to be among your top priorities for today, SUSAN. Someone from far away might have captured your heart, and you could therefore be looking forward to getting together with this person tonight, perhaps to attend a concert or sports event. You should find this person's presence very healing right now, and at the end of the evening feel inspired both mentally and physically. Have fun!

Yesterday's observation was pretty d*mn accurate (except for the "concert or sports event" reference) - my husband, who I haven't seen since May 19, arrived last night for a long weekend visit... and we are currently enjoying much-needed reconnection time at my sister's (headed to mom's mid-day tomorrow)...

Yes... I do admit to writing this post in advance - "the wai-ai-ai-ting is the hardest part" (Tom Petty... :-)

SONG: Ah! Sweet Mystery of Life (from Young Frankenstein)

BOOK: The Soul of Sex: Cultivating Life as an Act of Love by Thomas Moore

POEM: Meditation on the Word Need by Linda Rodriguez

The problem with words of emotion

is how easily meaning drains

from their fiddle-sweet sounds

and they become empty instruments.

I can say love

and mean desire to give—

open-handed, open-hearted—

or I am drawn to the light

shining from your soul—

or my life is empty without you—

or I want to run my hands

and mouth down the length of you—

or all of these at once.

Need, now, is a plain word.

I need a nail to hang this picture.

I need money to pay my bills.

I need air and light,

water and food,
shelter from storm and sun and cold.
To be healthy,
to be sane,
to survive,
I need you.

QUOTE(S): "Sex is not the answer. Sex is the question. "Yes" is the answer." ~ Swami X

"Love is the answer, but while you are waiting for the answer, sex raises some pretty good questions." ~ Woody Allen

"A chicken and an egg are lying in bed. The chicken is smoking a cigarette with a satisfied smile on its face and the egg is frowning and looking put out. The egg mutters to no one in particular, "I guess we answered that question." ~ Author Unknown