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
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!
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 life saving 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 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
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:
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.
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:
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.
You may enjoy visiting my blogs:
Thread of Hope
written by
July 17, 2016
Between the numbered days of life and death weaves a single
fragile thread of hope for all that is good in the universe. The day, when this thread is broken and the mournful
clarion bell is sound, our tears cascade as a fine mist across the early
morning shores of our sorrows. This is
that day.
The global soul now a community of grief and the wounded heart
forever touched as a family of one. It is
on this day that our tears must turn to grains of strength, our amour and
shield of destruction be placed in respite, and our measured days resolved to join
hands in crafting a passageway whereby the entry token is a valued coin earned
by acts of love and respect. This is that
day.
This is that day.
This is that day. This is that day … woven with a thread
of hope.
Peace and love, my kindred spirits.
You may enjoy visiting my blogs:
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.
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)
You may enjoy visiting my blogs:
The Flying Bejeweled Fragrance Collector
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
imaginary 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 hot
house 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
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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.
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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:
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:
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!
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:
Thread of Hope
written by
Jeannette Zink
July 17, 2016
Between the numbered days of life and death weaves a single
fragile thread of hope for all that is good in the universe. The day, when this thread is broken and the mournful
clarion bell is sound, our tears cascade as a fine mist across the early
morning shores of our sorrows. This is
that day.
The global soul now a community of grief and the wounded heart
forever touched as a family of one. It is
on this day that our tears must turn to grains of strength, our amour and
shield of destruction be placed in respite, and our measured days resolved to join
hands in crafting a passageway whereby the entry token is a valued coin earned
by acts of love and respect. This is that
day.
This is that day.
This is that day. This is that day … woven with a thread
of hope.
Peace and love, my kindred spirits.
You may enjoy visiting my blogs:
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)
You may enjoy visiting my blogs:
The Flying Bejeweled Fragrance Collector
Two-Year Old has Funky
Day … imagine that
written by
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!!
You may enjoy visiting
my blogs:
Two-Year Old has Funky Day … imagine that
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.
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
written
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:
http://doodlngwithwordsbyjeannette.blogspot.com/
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.
You may enjoy visiting my blogs:
Spinning
Wheels Stop
written by
Jeannette
Zink
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
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:
written by
Jeannette Zink
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.
You may enjoy visiting
my blogs:
http://jeannettesartandstories.blogspot.com/
http://doodlngwithwordsbyjeannette.blogspot.com/
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.
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.
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Snowflake Hearts
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:
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:
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.
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