Thought for today. . .

Excerpt from today's daily meditation:

• "What seems like a small encounter may be a God-encounter, and produce results you never dreamed possible."

Today I will practice awareness of seemingly small encounters.

Understanding the difference. . .

Synchronicity, again!

I have always been interested in reading about "what makes people tick" so, although one of my daily meditations was not new information, but because it had been a topic of more than one conversation very recently, it caused me to say to myself, "There it is again -- synchronicity!" (A practice that has become second nature ever since reading The Artist's Way, by Julia Cameron.)

So. . .
For whatever it's worth and to whomever, I'll share as follows:

• "MALE AND FEMALE HE CREATED THEM" Genesis 1:27
• Understanding the difference...
• Is Professor Henry Higgins in My Fair Lady right? Are men by nature more rational and forgiving than women? No, but there's a difference. Let's say a problem arises before work. After work he's forgotten it; he's compartmentalized it to focus on work. For him it's over, but not for her. She's rehearsed, processed and labeled it, while multi-tasking all day. It hasn't disappeared; it's unfinished business. After work he comes home, blissfully unconscious, and, ba-boom, it erupts. He's got that bewildered, "Is there a problem?" look. "Is he playing naive?" she wonders. "How could he possibly forget?" He's thinking, "What's gotten into her? Not that little incident from this morning? Who harbors something so insignificant that long?"
• Since God created male and female differently, He tells us to "Conduct. . .married life with understanding." Understanding brings happiness. His brain functions compartmentally. He moves from family to work to recreation to hobbies, etc., each compartment walled off from the other. When in one he forgets the others. But her compartments are connected, spilling over into each other. She's working and thinking about the kids and planning dinner, etc., simultaneously! No walls. So this morning's incident is still in her mind, though forgotten by him. By understanding these differences she can give him time to get back into "the family compartment" before raising the issue. And he can realize she's not being unreasonable or unforgiving, she's being what God made her. Until the issue is resolved she has no place to hide from it. She needs closure so she can feel good about their relationship again. "Male and female he created them." Only by understanding that can we live in harmony.

Be joyful. . .

Yesterday was the kind of day that lets you pause and let go of any obstacles and focus on gifts and graces. "Count your blessings," would be another way of putting it. Highlights that come to mind are: Starting the day by sharing time with a good friend, closing the day with another and, in between, hearing my faraway, newest granddaughter respond with gleeful baby sounds when I spoke to her on the phone.

For me, these are the moments that give life meaning and as they occur, I invite them in to a special place within me where I can revisit them at will. It has taken many milestones to arrive at this point which gives me cause to wonder how many meaningful moments have gone by unnoticed. I mourn for those lost moments only briefly, though, knowing "right now" is all that is real. Yesterday is what it was and cannot be changed; only learned from. Tomorrow, despite all our careful planning, will never unfold exactly as anything we might expect. Therefore, to worry or to focus on what could/should/would happen is a waste of immediate energies, rendering us too preoccupied to find joy in the reality of "right now."

The word "joy" meaning something quite different from "happy," in my mind, although I think the words are sometimes used interchangeably. I think of joy as a feeling deep within my soul while happy, to me, is more of a surface pleasure; neither one a varying level of the other but simply quite unrelated.

I wonder what joy today might bring?

Thorns, rocks and caterpillar poop. . .

It has turned out to be a beautiful day despite a few threatening cloudy periods. I worked a little on some outdoor projects - or I should say I "dabbled" at them since I didn't work very hard. Keeping all the shrubs and bushes pruned is a full-time job, so it seems. Not to mention the barberry thorns that 'sliver their way' through my work gloves and become embedded in my hands for the duration of each summer. By Thanksgiving, I usually have removed them all and the wounds have healed.

I have said that when I planted all the forsythia and barberries so long ago, little did I know I was 'creating monsters!' My goal is to get them down to a size I can manage and, little by little, I am accomplishing that. (Thanks to Lori, the local landscaper, who taught me how to "let them breathe." That became an ongoing joke between Bob and me. Whenever he saw me trimming, he would ask me if I was letting my bushes breathe.)

I'm in the process of reconfiguring the driveway and laying a sidewalk, using recycled flagstones. Thank goodness for grandsons who came to my rescue and handled the ones that were too heavy for me to lift. (I learned you cannot pry them up off the ground using a metal baseball bat. The bat either bends or the stone rolls off it. . .which can be dangerous; especially if you are a brittle old woman.) As I was raking up the small, excess stones, I found what I thought was just the shell of a robin's egg but it was an unbroken egg. I always feel a little sad to find them like that, wondering if a nest has been invaded by another species of bird. I like to take empty nests I find while pruning and nestle them in my shrubs as decorations. Adding an egg or a shell completes the look.

I enjoy puttering in the yard. I believe it's one of my favorite things to do. The methodical movements accompanied by the sounds of serenity coming from the woods create a perfect setting that invites the most profound thoughts to free-flow. It can become a spiritual experience, depending on how much you are willing to 'let in.' That's how Bob described his feelings, too, whenever he was plowing a field on a tractor, alone with his thoughts and the smell of freshly tilled soil would fill the air around him. It's no wonder some of the most beautiful classical music was inspired by forest and nature sounds. If you are still and listen, you will hear a symphony.

Of course, there is always a 'flip side.' For instance, the continuous rain-like sound of caterpillar droppings as the greedy little worm-like creatures munch away on the leaves of our lovingly nurtured trees. Just as the Grinch came to steal Christmas, the dark, prickly 'wooly mammoths' have come to steal our shade! Then too, if you live in a rural area, of course you are familiar with the unmistakable stench that will occasionally permeate the air for miles. It comes and goes depending on the direction of the breeze at the moment. (I assume that's how the expression, "...down wind of" became so common.) If you are in the company of others when the 'invisible intruder' arrives, you will pause what you're doing, look at one another through an expression of disgust while trying not to inhale. . .nod knowingly and, in unison, utter the word, ROADKILL! . . .and then resume what you were doing.

A final thought. . .
You know you're a redneck when you have to shake caterpillar poop out of your hair before you go inside.