The gentle taps against the weathered deck are as calming as a lullaby.
The rhythm so slow I nearly count the beats.
Joyous melodies chirp in the distance, grateful creatures anxious to reap rewards.
Swaying branches reach for drops of nectar to replenish their richness.
Blades of grass clap in exhalation.
The unexpected pleasure of a tender spring rain brings joy to my soul .
I pause briefly to appreciate the moment.
Burden or Blessing
It’s easy to know Him when our troubles are few
To find hope in a sunrise when each dawn breaks new
To feel all His glory and have faith in His word
So easy to know Him when not facing the sword
But when troubles surround you and take hold of your heart
When the struggles with reason drive you further apart
Know that He loves you, for this He has shown
The miracles performed were for the weak and the worn
The blind man had vision; the lame He made walk
The deaf-mute who trusted could suddenly talk
To the least of our brothers He’s provided the best
Just give Him your troubles; He’ll do all the rest
And rejoice in the moment when you feel that great weight
It’s a sign that He’s near you and delivering your fate
For He’ll never abandon or forsake one in need
He hears your requests in the prayers that you plead
by Diane M How
The human mind amazes me. As more gray hair finds it way onto my scalp, my brain continues to function in high gear with few failures and occasionally, almost by accident, I get a little wiser.
Before I retired two years ago, my ability to multi-task surprised even me. I supervised an office staff of sixteen, prepared reports, served as Safety and Logistics Officer, resolved every personnel issue and equipment malfunction imaginable, and still found time to be a wife, caretaker, and volunteer facilitator.
Now that I am a woman of leisure, I often have to force myself to stifle my need to perform numerous functions at one time. Take writing, for example. I have four different projects open on the computer as I draft this blog. I toggle back and forth frequently as needed. My upcoming novel, Burning Embers, remains open on my laptop at all times as I work diligently on the rewrites. At the rate I’m going, it should be completed by 2015.
In the past ten minutes, besides beginning this piece, I emptied the dishwasher, filled it again, prepared the coffee pot for the next brew, went outside and picked up the mail, began preparing lunch and referenced my thesaurus (which resides permanently next to my computer). Mind you, I realize they are all unimportant, menial tasks, yet, not bad for a sixty-year old mind in a short period of time.
I once challenged myself to see if I could function with a solitary thought for more than five minutes. The longest attempt neared forty-five seconds
In full disclosure, one of the items is not a writing assignment. It is a game called FreeCell. My husband and daughter think I am addicted to it. I tell them I am trying to keep my brain cells active, which I am. That appeases them briefly, but does not change their assumption.
This card game challenges the player to unscramble the order of the cards before running out of moves. I am embarrassed to mention how many of these games I have played, but it has been two years and whenever I am bored or watching television, I am competing to raise my success score, which has been stuck at 65%.
I have proof that this hobby stimulates my brain.
One of the options on the game allows the player to undo the last move and try another. I recently realized that if I utilize that function and repeat it multiple times, I can win nearly every game. Once I opened my mind to the possibility, it changed my entire perspective about the game. Instead of hitting the button that says, start a new game when I get stuck, I challenge myself to stick with each session until I succeed. I have won all but one of the last twenty-five games.
One of the courses I facilitated for years included a poster that said CYA (check your assumptions). I assumed that losing was a normal outcome of the game. I wonder how many times in my life I have limited my success without realizing it.
Have any of you ever found that by changing their belief about something, it opened up new possibilities. I’d love to hear from you about your challenge or Aha moment.
The Treasured Gift
I put little value on material things. I am a terrible shopper and find no enjoyment in browsing the racks of a clothing store. Other than my wedding and engagement rings and a simple watch, my jewelry collection consists of a few necklaces given to me by my husband and daughter.
Early in my marriage, I began buying a spoon from each state I visited. They, hang in a shadow box on the wall of our dining room. I look at them occasionally when I dust the case. Family and friends have given me other items that are displayed in a curio cabinet in the living room. The sentiment far outweighs the monetary value of my earthly possessions.
I prefer to give gifts rather than receive them. For me, it is the thought that counts. I enjoy watching someone’s eyes light up when they open an unexpected package. That brings me joy more than anything else.
The office where I worked participated in a secret Santa gift exchange one Christmas. About three weeks before the holiday party, each person wrote down their name and three inexpensive items he or she desired. I seldom came prepared with a well-thought out selection. Often I ended up with a gift card or a pair of gloves. I will never forget the enjoyment of opening a gift that I knew I would always treasure.
I carefully picked up the eight-by-ten, simply-wrapped package trying to anticipate its contents. As I peeled the paper back, I saw a plain black plastic case wrapped in cellophane. I struggled to remove the clear cover, more puzzled than ever.
I could not imagine what would come in such an unusual container. My eyes widened in delight at the contents. A professional assortment of writing pens made me grin like a child. Not only were there six pens, including a fountain pen with cartridges, there were many refills for each. It was a gift that someone selected with thought and love. I knew immediately who my secret Santa had been. My friend and co-worker, Joyce Richard, recognized the perfect gift for a writer.
I spend many hours on my laptop, working on my novel, but there is nothing that can replace a smooth writing pen and a blank piece of paper. I have written many thoughts on scraps of discarded paper, tissues, on the corners of a newspaper and even the palm of my hand. I can’t imagine having all these thoughts in my mind and not being able to write them down.
Until recent years, you couldn’t stuff a computer in your pocket or the bottom of your purse, ready to support you whenever the need arises. Maybe someday I’ll catch up with the progress made in electronics. Until then (and probably after), I’ll continue to cherish the wonderful selection of pens and the comfort they bring me when I fill my pages with thoughts.
Our spirit’s born the chill of dawn
When dew clings helpless to the vine
Before the din of structured man
Disguises Mother Nature’s charm
The ever present offer waits
It beckons weary souls to prowl
Beyond the confines of chaotic cells
To sojourns of the unrestrained
Where endless canvas drifts aloft
Granting turbulence a brief repose
Where breeze directs the music’s dance
Of sheltered forests’ songs of gold
By Diane How
Sometimes joy spills over from one day to the next, like a baseball winning streak. I love when that happens.
The abundance of springtime pleasures, like sunny skies, luscious green lawns and trees that are cloaked with leaves, helps to keep my mood elevated.
Thursday evening my husband and I had dinner with my daughter, her boyfriend and his three members of his family, who were visiting from South Carolina. We tried a new barbeque place that came highly recommended. It turned out to be a shack, literally. Fortunately, everyone accepted the accommodations without complaint. Good food and good company made for a pleasant evening.
Friday, the plans were to visit the Botanical Gardens in St. Louis with the visiting family. Storms rolled in from the west and we cancelled those plans. Instead, we all met at a large nearby nursery where we spent an hour or two enjoying the abundance of flowers and plants. The pleasant substitution fulfilled my urge to see mother natures’ bountiful display and to purchase a few additions for our garden.
Saturday morning I sat at the computer, frustrated that I had not found words to fill the pages of the document on the screen. For three weeks, I tried to compose a poem to present to my brother-in-law at his eightieth birthday party. Suddenly, my fingers began pecking at the keyboard and words appeared, as they often do. I have found that I just need to receive them when God is ready to send them my way.
In the afternoon we attended a wonderful outdoor party for the octogenarian. The temperatures neared 100 degrees and the humidity left everyone drenched, yet visiting with extended family on such a joyous occasion made the conditions bearable and well worth the brow wiping.
When I returned home Saturday night, I delighted in reading a post on Facebook announcing the husband of a dear friend received a phone call for a life-saving liver transplant that he desperately needed for months.
An email from my brother informed me that another relative had made significant advances in recovering from a debilitating illness. I believe it is a sign that prayers are being answered, even if the message came with a cautiously optimistic warning.
By the time I attended church on Sunday, my cup overflowed with blessings.
I hurried home from church anxious to get an update on the condition of the liver transplant recipient. Much to my dismay, our internet service did not work.
Computers are my nemesis. I have a love/hate relationship with them. My ignorance consumes many frustrating hours when something goes amiss.
I don’t really understand the difference between a router and a modem; much less know how to make them function properly after a glitch occurs.
After trying the standard options of disconnecting and restarting the pc and laptop, I turned to my husband for help. Understanding that he shares the same limited knowledge, I watched as he completed all the familiar procedures that I performed.
He successfully restored the internet access on his personal computer. Relieved that I could get an update on the condition of my friend’s husband, I could sleep peacefully and tackle the rest of the problem on Monday.
Unfortunately, the wireless access continued to elude my laptop. Rain dripped down from the cloudy skies, threatening to dampen my spirits, but I am not one to lose my patience easily.
My frustration level did not rise until I realized that I could not print from my laptop without the internet connection. On my umpteenth try, I decided to move a few wires to another port and managed to restore the connection.
After cheering and exchanging a high-five with my husband, I tried to contain the feeling of superiority that overcame me momentarily.
Life regained momentum in a positive direction. Now, if the clouds part long enough to get a walk in, I’ll continue the winning streak.
Writing Silver Linings 