Posted in Meditative Monday

Mindful grief

I wore a brightly-flowered skirt and matching blouse to my father’s funeral. Immediately upon entering the church I knew I was inappropriately dressed. I’d forgotten funeral etiquette. After giving birth two months earlier, I had nothing to wear that fit, and I’d gone shopping in a haze.

When I tell this story, most friends usually try to comfort me and say I chose something that would make my dad smile. Actually, if he was looking down, Dad would have thought my skirt terribly unbefitting. Yet there I was, in front of the whole congregation competing with the alter gladiolas.

I made no apologies, and to this day chuckle at the misstep. I was young, consumed by grief, drunken with hormones, and a mother of three. If anyone was allowed the mistake, surely I was.

There may be five common stages, but we all move through grief at our own pace and in our own way. There’s no right way to grieve. It’s a personal thing. Even when faith, culture and etiquette dictate one right way to mourn, it’s crucial we show self-compassion and honor whatever it is that helps us to heal.

By accommodating our own process, it affords us the ability to do the same for others. It may be easier for us to feel empathy for the one who cries than for the one who didn’t attend the funeral. Yet, it’s entirely possible that the one who didn’t show feels such pain they can’t leave the house. It’s possible the one who is angry has hurtful regrets. It’s possible the one who makes jokes is afraid.

We can’t know what stories are deeply buried in another’s heart. Sometimes we scarcely know what’s in our own.

May we feel deeply for all affected by death and open our hearts to love and compassion for their healing.

Peace . . .
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Posted in Throwback Thursday

Birdie with a yellow bill

A birdie with a yellow bill
Hopped upon the window sill,
Cocked his shining eye and said:
‘Ain’t you ‘shamed, you sleepy head?
― Robert Louis Stevenson

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On the mornings when Mom woke me, instead of Dad, she would often come in reciting this poem, but would change the last line to her liking. It might be,

Good morning!

Or maybe

Time to get ready for school!

Or on a lucky day

Get up we’re going to the fair!

Peace . . .

Posted in Meditative Monday

Everything I learned about body positivity I learned at the dog park

Sabbie runs into the park in circles. It’s all about the ball.

Throw the ball! Throw the ball! Don’t just stand there, throw the ball! What are you waiting for? Throw the ball!

Mosh gets so excited he can’t believe they’re actually there. He drives Sabbie nuts.

Sabbie! We’re at the park. Can you believe it? We’re at the park! Play with me! Play with me! Come on . . . play with me!

As he settles into it, it’s clear all Mosh ever really wants in life is someone to chase him. He doesn’t care if your fur is white, or mottled, or toasty brown with the little burnt tips on your ears and toes. In fact, I’ve never met a dog who cares if another is purebred or a mongrel. It’s what’s under the fur that counts. We could learn a lot from our canine friends.

DSCN0639There are dogs in wheelchairs and three-legged dogs, and blind dogs too. The great thing about dogs is that they don’t leave anyone out. Everyone with a nose and a butt are welcomed to join their circle.

Ever seen a dog tease another one about his age? No, I didn’t think so. If you’re willing to play, join in! If you need to take a break and watch, that’s fine too.

I’ve seen little terriers humping (or trying to, anyway) Great Danes. The heart wants what the heart wants. More importantly, I’ve never seen any of the other dogs care.  Why do some people care so much who someone else loves?

Are female dogs concerned with their body image? No way. They know they’ve got it. If she swings her tail in just the right way, it doesn’t matter if she’s the shape of a German sausage, she’s going to have that boy-dog on a short leash.

A dog doesn’t care if you’re sporting a diamond collar or a fleece sweater or little rubber boots. Well . . . okay, those boots are kind of weird. But he knows your human put those on you, and those humans? They have issues.

Peace . . .

Posted in Weekly Photo Challenge

My favorite place is solitude

The Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge is “Favorite Place.” While the photo was taken at the Minnesota Landscape Arboretum, undoubtedly one of my favorite places, it depicts more. Space for introspection, stillness, connection to Mother Earth. Solitude. That’s my favorite place.

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Loneliness expresses the pain of being alone and solitude expresses the glory of being alone.
— Paul Tillich

Peace . . .

Posted in Friday Finds

Out of decisions

There was a point this week that I actually said, “I’m out of decisions.” I was being asked how I wanted a sign-in table set up. There were name tags and Sharpies, lined sheets and ballpoint pens, folders and two tables. And I was simply out…of…decisions.

It’s no wonder this little gem stood out of the crowd for me. He also reiterates what I’ve always known; the secret to happiness is lowering your expectations.

And he proves that if you know what you’re talking about and have a good delivery, you can do it in sneakers, shorts and t-shirt. I love this guy!

Enjoy!

High Standards + Low Expectations = Peace of Mind

Peace . . .