Blessings

"Write your sorrows in the sand, Carve your blessings in stone."

That is a saying on a plaque that my sister gave me last year. I have mentally been repeating it to myself lately so that I can find some semblance of order in my chaotic life.

"Chaotic," in the fact that I feel out-of-control with my self. I'm eating too much, drinking too much alcohol, not drinking water, not walking, working too many long hours and not writing. I know that if this keeps on, I am going to find myself flat on my face in misery or flat on my back with disease, a bad cold or flu or something that will make me slow down. If that happens, then I may have to take a day off work and the work will pile up more! Which will create more out-of-control feelings.

OK, now I have written my "sorrows" in the sand. Let the waves wash away my writings. Let the waves of love and forgiveness wash away my sorrows, my fears and my anxiety. Let me start to concentrate on carving my blessings on the stone.

I have a lot of blessings in which to be thankful.

• I am healthy (regardless of my recent eating and drinking habits)
• I have a good relationship with my hubby
• I have a job that challenges and rewards me
• I have parents that are still alive and visiting me
• I have a nice, big place to live (and it's warm & sunny)
• I have dependable vehicles to allow me to travel around
• I have friends that care

Yes, I have alot of blessings to "carve into stone." Blessings that can sustain me and get me going in a straight path rather than the circles of chaos, which leads to spinning out of control. I think that I need to take one of those "circles of chaos" and commit to work on it each day. If I try to stop everything at once, it will seem to be an impossible and daunting task. However, I can work on one thing a day. One day at a time. I can do one thing, one day, while I keep repeating my blessings until the feeling of thankfulness is engrained in my heart and soul.

Blessings

"Write your sorrows in the sand,
Carve your blessings in stone."

A Crisis of the Oldest Kind

Last night, I think I figured out what is happening with me lately. I am in the throes of a mid-life-crisis! It's logical explanation, I think!

When the new year turned 2008, it meant one more year until I have my 40th high school class reunion. 2008 is the year my "baby" sisters turn 40 and I know I'm old enough to be their mother. 2008 is way too close to 2011 when I turn 60 years old. I live in the hot-bed of Winter Texans and in many cases all I see are white-haired, elderly people.... the local RV park's dance, the taco night at the American Legion, the kite festival at the island, the lutefisk supper at church.... all of these since last Tuesday night!

I feel like I'm in one of those horror movies where the laughing clown keeps popping up on the screen to make fun of you while you are terrified. Only it's white-haired, elderly people popping up on the scene to remind that I'm getting there... old age.... sooner than I want to admit! It's a mid-life crisis, it's got to be! Why else would I dig out a 33-years-old picture and show it to hubby and Mom to "prove" that "I don't look that much older, do I?"

Why else would I want to sell my house to get away from older people (and turmoil)? Why else would I want to buy a new sporty car? No, not in the color of candy-apple-red, but glacier-blue to match the cold blood in my veins. Yes, cold-blooded, that is the way I felt after writing my blog yesterday. I guess I just wanted to exclaim about .... I don't want to get old!

But if I'm lucky, it's inevitable that I will get old. I know I need to count my blessings. What else does a person do for a mid-life crisis? Besides cry?

What's It Like?

What's it like..... to get old?

During the past few weeks, I've really been surrounded by older people. My parents are here visiting for four weeks; my neighbors are all over 55 (which puts me as one of the youngest in the community); church members and the majority of attendees at two recent events were all white-haired; and last night I played dominoes with all people older than me.

Part of me wants to retire soon, so that I can relax. However, part of me fears the concept of never seeing anyone younger than me for days on end! You can go ahead and smile and laugh at my fear, but gosh I'm not sure I want to get OLD. Many older people slow down physically and mentally.

What's it like to not be able to grasp the rules of a game? What's it like to repeat the same story time after time? What's like to be a widow and lose your spouse or best friend? What's it like to feel that your body is aching and not up-to-speed as it used to be?

I found a picture of myself from about 33 years ago and compared it to a recent picture taken of hubby and I for church directory. Thankfully, I can say that except for gained weight, the area around my eyes is mainly what shows my age the most. No, the recent picture was not airbrushed! Looks, however, aren't everything. How do I feel? Compared to a year ago when I was suffering shortness of breath, I feel quite healthy. I felt "old" last year. Could I be slimmer and healthier? There is no doubt. My mind is quite healthy considering I have a job that keeps it going constantly. However, I do tell my staff to email me their questions or requests "because I might forget by the time I get back to my office," which happens more than I want to admit!

Yesterday, I was telling hubby and my parents that I had a "wierd dream" Saturday morning. I dreamt that I had retired and that I was making money by making candy. Chocolate cowboy boots. I have not made much candy in my life, but maybe it would be an interesting thing to try. As long as I don't eat too much of it, it may keep me young! Trying new things, that is.

What's it like.... being a candy maker?

The List

Lists, lists, we all make lists. Things to do. Things to do before we..... leave work for the day, end of month, go on vacation, retire, kick the bucket! Yep, "kick the bucket" as in die. How did such a frivolous term get connected with death? Hubby says "Look it up, do a Google search." So I did and in 16th century England bucket had meaning of "a beam or yoke used to hang items." The beam used to hang animals by their feet for slaughter was called a bucket and animals during slaughter would struggle or spasm after death and hence "kick the bucket." How gross, huh?

Anyway, this weekend hubby and I saw the new movie, "The Bucket List." Very entertaining and thought-provoking. The basic concept of the movie is a couple of guys make a list of things they want to do before they die. Their adventures are fun and how they cross things off their list take on new meaning too. I have a friend that a few years ago started her own "bucket" list, so I excitedly called her right after the movie and encouraged her to see the movie. She reminded me that several of the things on the list were meant to be shared with me, like hot-air balloon ride. Well, we have not done that yet, I chickened-out when the opportunity came up a couple of years ago.

What does a person do when they are afraid to do the things on their own list? Does that mean I get to live longer until the fear is replaced by eagerness and actually do the hot-air balloon ride? Can't answer that as I don't know when my time to "kick" will have arrived. Hubby started his list and has five things-to-do on it. He, too, has hot-air balloon ride on his, so maybe I can talk him into going with my friend! :)

I have not been able to think of anything to put on my list yet. I did have a list quite a few years ago and I remember writing down, "write a book" and "build a house I've designed." I have lost that list, but I remember those two things and I'm glad to say that I have lived in two houses that I designed and built. I don't know if I will ever write a book and after all this blogging, I can tell you that it will be a lot more work than I originally thought. It makes that hot-air balloon ride seem like a piece-of-cake! FYI - Piece of cake originated in the Royal Air Force in the 1930's for an easy mission. Possibly evokes the easy accomplishment of swallowing a slice of dessert.

What's on your list? Gotta run and get mine started.

Doing it again!

We saw some neighbors tonight and I was greeted by one of them, "Rayna, you haven't written in the new year!" Yes, I took a break. Took a break from blogging, took a break from walking, took a break from thinking. After a New Years trip up North, I came back home to "hibernate" and cuddle in my blanket while it was dark and cold outside. I caught up on some reading and just plain relaxed.

Since I changed my work hours to 7 am - 4 pm, I have been using the time that I previously would walk to be getting ready for work. The after-work walking just did not cut-it for me, I'm too lazy by the end of the day. So it became easier and easier to just skip the walking. The plus side is that my feet, legs and back did not hurt any longer. However, I was surprised to find myself waking earlier than needed (to get to work) and thinking about walking, I missed it! Lo & behold, what mind-boggling concept for me to go through.... missing a daily walk!

Sunday, I went for a leisurely walk and Monday got up at 5:15 am and did my mile and a half. Today, too! I figured that since I was walking, I might as well start blogging again. Let the thoughts pour on out on the computer! We'll see what happens.

The Rest of the Story

Paul Harvey used to (maybe still does) have a radio show that he would tell about a person and then leave you hanging for disclosure of the person while a commercial was aired. Then he'd come back on and say something like "And now for the rest of the story."

Hubby & I made a quick trip to The Island yesterday, South Padre Island that is. We were not able to drive onto the beach as usual as we took the smaller, lower-to-the ground car, so parked and walked out to the beach. Right in front of us were two red roses laying on the beach. One of the roses was in good shape (see picture) and other was rather mangled. Hubby said exactly what I was thinking, "I wonder what the story is behind these roses laying here?"

It makes a person wonder, right? I have a vivid imagination and these kind of scene/scenarios really get my juices a-flowing! Who left them? Where did they leave them? Was there a lover's quarrel? How long had they been laying there? Questions, questions and no answers except what we could imagine. As we walked down the beach, we tossed out ideas and thoughts. I thought maybe it was a candid-camera sort of stunt to see what people would do with two red roses laying on the beach. Upon returning to that spot after our walk, the rose pictured above was gone and the "mangled" one was left. Now it got our interest.... Did the waves wash the other one away? Did someone pick it up? Regretfully, we will never know the rest of the story.

However it got me thinking about my actions recently. My anger came out sideways and I basically gave someone a black, wilted "rose." They were not expecting it (my anger) and I know they were questioning what was the "rest of the story" behind my actions and words. What kind of roses do we give people? Do we give a beautiful red rose that makes them wonder with pleasure what they did to deserve it? Or do we give a mangled black rose that makes them wonder with anxiety what they did to deserve it?

We make the choice of what kind of rose we will leave for people to find. Each and every day, we make choices. Too bad, that we're human and sometimes our choices are not the best. I need to remember the "red rose on the beach" and think about what I'm giving or leaving to people before I speak and act. What will they find after I've left?