Go ahead. Let yourself enjoy the beautiful world around you. Stop fighting life and start flowing with it. Let yourself be full of strength and energy. Let yourself be creative. Let yourself enjoy the moments as they come. It will happen if you let it.
Your own fears and doubts hold you back more than anything else. Your own anger keeps you imprisoned. Your own limiting thoughts conceal an abundance of possibilities. Your worries drain the joy from each moment. Let go of them.
Is that irresponsible? No. The most responsible thing you can do is to live up to your incredible potential. Yes, there are plenty of very real problems in the world. But you don't have to give them any more power than they already have. Let yourself be joyful in spite of them, and your life will be a positive force. Let yourself really live.
Sunday, January 30, 2005
Friday, January 21, 2005
Sun and Contemplation
My pal Melissa came over today after her class, and we enjoyed a lovely Friday afternoon in South Louisiana. We took advantage of the abundant sunshine and temp in the 70s (not bragging, really ::grin::) and walked to the Chinese Tea Garden for lunch. We walked lazy residential streets most of the way, avoiding the horrendously bumpy sidewalks and lack of curb-cuts. The CTG was the first Chinese restaurant I've ever entered that the proprietors didn't instantly freak about my dog. Amazing. Melissa and I gorged, making plans to make our own crab rangoons very soon, and then headed back. On the way to the restaurant, we had noticed a street that had a median separating opposing traffic (most of the streets in this part of the city are like that) with a sidewalk and curb-cuts. We decided to take that street back. Turned out this median is actually a bike route. I'd like to take this opportunity to say, "I LOVE BIKE ROUTES!!" Curb-cuts, smooth sidewalks -- it's a transplanted gimp's dream in NO!! I looked down at Reba and said we now had an expanded route for evening walks. I probably won't walk it alone until I learn the neighborhood, but Melissa seemed amenable to the occasional walkabout.
On another note, it's been four years ago today that Stacy moved on. I've been pretty good today, but I have been rather thoughtful as I usually am this time of year. I never know what my mood is going to be on any given January 21st. I've been totally bummed, I've been happy. My dreams lately have been about enjoying life -- go figure. If anyone knew how to enjoy life, it was my sister. The walk helped to reinforce that. Once we were on the bike path, I was able to examine and enjoy my surroundings without the fear of breaking my damn fool neck. The blue sky, the very first blooms of Spring (yes, Spring -- hard to believe) mixed with the berries of Fall, the parrots starting their nests in the palms along the median of Filmore Street -- it's all about the return of the Light and the abundance of Life. Life truly is an amazing thing, and I'm doing my best to enjoy all of it.
On another note, it's been four years ago today that Stacy moved on. I've been pretty good today, but I have been rather thoughtful as I usually am this time of year. I never know what my mood is going to be on any given January 21st. I've been totally bummed, I've been happy. My dreams lately have been about enjoying life -- go figure. If anyone knew how to enjoy life, it was my sister. The walk helped to reinforce that. Once we were on the bike path, I was able to examine and enjoy my surroundings without the fear of breaking my damn fool neck. The blue sky, the very first blooms of Spring (yes, Spring -- hard to believe) mixed with the berries of Fall, the parrots starting their nests in the palms along the median of Filmore Street -- it's all about the return of the Light and the abundance of Life. Life truly is an amazing thing, and I'm doing my best to enjoy all of it.
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
Quiz from a Couple of Friends
You scored as Verbal/Linguistic. You have highly developed auditory skills, enjoy reading and writing and telling stories, and are good at getting your point across. You learn best by saying and hearing words. People like you include poets, authors, speakers, attorneys, politicians, lecturers and teachers.
The Rogers Indicator of Multiple Intelligences created with QuizFarm.com |
Sunday, January 09, 2005
The trip back to NO was interesting to say the least. The flights were lacking in the drama they had contained flying home, but once again the crews failed to bring me my chair between flights in Dallas -- irritating in that I had to be pushed between planes, but more irritating in that the jerk-wads lost the knob off my joystick on the flight between ICT and DFW and I didn't know about it until I landed at MSY. Grr. Barney and Chad met me at the airport, and Chad's response to the lost knob was, "Well D---, that settles it. We're getting you the eight ball." Before I had left, he and I attempted to crazy glue said knob onto the rest of the joystick to prevent this, and in the process we speculated as to what could replace it if it were permanently lost. The eight ball won by a unanimous 2-0 vote.
Turns out me calling Barney and asking him to meet me at the airport was ingenious on my part, but not for the reason I had done it. You see, when I had arrived at ICT, my w.c. was in pieces and my mom had to put it all back together. Batteries back into their cases, covers back on cases, everything back on chair. I didn't trust airport personnel at MSY to put it back together since the numbskulls couldn't get it apart to visually verify my non-spillable batteries on the trip out (and that with me sitting there TELLING them what to do), so I asked Barney to come and help. He got Chad to come too, but the chair was assembled and functional when I got off the plane, but the w.c.-accessible shuttle I had arranged wasn't. I wound up having to take the bus home (cheaper but longer). Barney went with me on the bus, and Chad took my suitcase to the lab. He offered to take it to my apartment, and I was tired enough at that point that it never occurred to me to give him my keys to put it in the apartment and then put the KEYS in the lab for B and me to retrieve.
Anyway, so the airport bus goes to downtown NO, and helpful Aura at the airport info desk advised us on where to go from there. Take the airport bus to the end of the route, walk five or six blocks along Canal to North Peters and hop the Elysian Fields bus to campus. Piece of cake, just long. Well, piece of cake once the airport bus driver finally decided to let Reba and me on the bus. No, it wasn't initially a case of not knowing what a service dog is -- he wanted me to muzzle her. Uh, no. So I patiently (admirable on my part, I think, since my back was really starting to kick at this point, I was getting tired, and I had to pee) explained to him what a service dog is, that they don't need to be muzzled, etc., etc., blah blah blah. He was still resistant, so I asked him to get a supervisor on the radio. Fortunately the super on duty that evening was an enlightened woman who knew the ins and outs and told him Reba didn't need to be muzzled. Turns out his damage stemmed from a general fear of dogs. We finally got on the bus, and we were off.
While walking along Canal, I saw some interesting sights. Lots of loitering locals (not all of them prosperous folks), lots of tourists, lots of swank hotels. After crossing an intersection, I caught a whiff of lovely incense, and I immediately stopped to locate the source. Usually incense of that nature indicates an interesting shop or merchant, and this time it was a street merchant selling incense of his own mixing, some fragrance oils, and shell necklaces. He was a delightful man of Caribbean origin, and what I was smelling was actually two incense sticks burning at once. I already had the Nag Champa, so I bought a box of the other Indian kind, and at the last minute I added a bag of his personal mix that had an undertone of cinnamon. Two bucks even. Beautiful.
Hopped the EF bus and was in the final stretch toward home. Along that route, Barney and I discussed all the dining experiences I haven't had in my stay, and we decided a once-a-month lab lunch was in order. I don't think we'll have a hard time talking Hector, Sunil, and Chad into that one.
So, in the end, my plane arrived at 4:10, and I got to my apartment (after stopping at the lab to pick up my suitcase) at 7:55. Needless to say, I slept like a rock Friday night after unpacking everything and popping some ibu.
On a final note, I finally got my Lafayette pics back. They didn't come out as nice as I had hoped, but I'll try to figure out how to post some for ya'll to see.
Turns out me calling Barney and asking him to meet me at the airport was ingenious on my part, but not for the reason I had done it. You see, when I had arrived at ICT, my w.c. was in pieces and my mom had to put it all back together. Batteries back into their cases, covers back on cases, everything back on chair. I didn't trust airport personnel at MSY to put it back together since the numbskulls couldn't get it apart to visually verify my non-spillable batteries on the trip out (and that with me sitting there TELLING them what to do), so I asked Barney to come and help. He got Chad to come too, but the chair was assembled and functional when I got off the plane, but the w.c.-accessible shuttle I had arranged wasn't. I wound up having to take the bus home (cheaper but longer). Barney went with me on the bus, and Chad took my suitcase to the lab. He offered to take it to my apartment, and I was tired enough at that point that it never occurred to me to give him my keys to put it in the apartment and then put the KEYS in the lab for B and me to retrieve.
Anyway, so the airport bus goes to downtown NO, and helpful Aura at the airport info desk advised us on where to go from there. Take the airport bus to the end of the route, walk five or six blocks along Canal to North Peters and hop the Elysian Fields bus to campus. Piece of cake, just long. Well, piece of cake once the airport bus driver finally decided to let Reba and me on the bus. No, it wasn't initially a case of not knowing what a service dog is -- he wanted me to muzzle her. Uh, no. So I patiently (admirable on my part, I think, since my back was really starting to kick at this point, I was getting tired, and I had to pee) explained to him what a service dog is, that they don't need to be muzzled, etc., etc., blah blah blah. He was still resistant, so I asked him to get a supervisor on the radio. Fortunately the super on duty that evening was an enlightened woman who knew the ins and outs and told him Reba didn't need to be muzzled. Turns out his damage stemmed from a general fear of dogs. We finally got on the bus, and we were off.
While walking along Canal, I saw some interesting sights. Lots of loitering locals (not all of them prosperous folks), lots of tourists, lots of swank hotels. After crossing an intersection, I caught a whiff of lovely incense, and I immediately stopped to locate the source. Usually incense of that nature indicates an interesting shop or merchant, and this time it was a street merchant selling incense of his own mixing, some fragrance oils, and shell necklaces. He was a delightful man of Caribbean origin, and what I was smelling was actually two incense sticks burning at once. I already had the Nag Champa, so I bought a box of the other Indian kind, and at the last minute I added a bag of his personal mix that had an undertone of cinnamon. Two bucks even. Beautiful.
Hopped the EF bus and was in the final stretch toward home. Along that route, Barney and I discussed all the dining experiences I haven't had in my stay, and we decided a once-a-month lab lunch was in order. I don't think we'll have a hard time talking Hector, Sunil, and Chad into that one.
So, in the end, my plane arrived at 4:10, and I got to my apartment (after stopping at the lab to pick up my suitcase) at 7:55. Needless to say, I slept like a rock Friday night after unpacking everything and popping some ibu.
On a final note, I finally got my Lafayette pics back. They didn't come out as nice as I had hoped, but I'll try to figure out how to post some for ya'll to see.
Saturday, January 08, 2005
Winter Wonderland
My friends down South call this ice and snow storm in the early days of 2005 a Winter wonderland, but they just see it on a superficial level. Their whole concept of Winter in the Midwest is a Norman Rockwell painting, but to those of us who grew up here, it’s so much more. For me, the real wonder comes from watching the battle of wills between the ice and the trees.
You don’t really appreciate the individuality of trees until you’ve watched them battle the weight of all that frozen water. Some stand proud and defiant, still reaching for the sky, determined not to give in. They regally wear their sparkling robes of ice, the kings and queens of the Plains. Others lean on their neighbors for support, looking remarkably like drunken friends leaving a bar at closing time. Others merely rest, their heads lolling, and patiently wait for the reinforcing strength of the Sun to return and help them shake off the chill.
Some trees fall victim, losing a limb or even their whole selves in the battle. Some stand broken, utterly defeated. Others remain defiant, arrogantly displaying their war wounds that shine copper from a distance. For some, the loss of limb is a blessing, the ice removing a diseased portion the rest of the body had nursed all Spring and Summer. These trees sigh in relief, knowing the rest of the body will be stronger now.
Where a tree grows in part determines how it copes in this battle with the ice. Country trees, untouched by human hands and able to adapt at will, laugh in the face of the enemy. They are the defiant or the sleepy ones. The city trees, though, constantly trimmed and molded by humans, cannot cope with the ice. They fight, oh how they fight, but their pretty boughs are far too weak to hold out for long. Finally, they begin to give way with moans and shrieks, and at the very end, they have their revenge on the humans. As their limbs fall, they become kamikazes, rending power lines asunder and wrecking havoc on roofs. They plunge the humans into darkness and into the ravages of Winter, forcing them to face the biting wind and the gnawing wet.
As I ride down the interstate, heading for the airplane which will take me South and away from this battlefield, I’m a little sad. For almost all my life, I’ve been a part of this battle. I’ve stood in awe of the ice’s blitzkrieg, I’ve cheered the victorious, I’ve mourned the fallen. I see a redtailed hawk sitting shiva in the top of a broken tree, and my sadness deepens. As I ride, I say a prayer for the fallen and send encouragement to the defiant. I look on in admiration and realize – this really is a Winter wonderland.
You don’t really appreciate the individuality of trees until you’ve watched them battle the weight of all that frozen water. Some stand proud and defiant, still reaching for the sky, determined not to give in. They regally wear their sparkling robes of ice, the kings and queens of the Plains. Others lean on their neighbors for support, looking remarkably like drunken friends leaving a bar at closing time. Others merely rest, their heads lolling, and patiently wait for the reinforcing strength of the Sun to return and help them shake off the chill.
Some trees fall victim, losing a limb or even their whole selves in the battle. Some stand broken, utterly defeated. Others remain defiant, arrogantly displaying their war wounds that shine copper from a distance. For some, the loss of limb is a blessing, the ice removing a diseased portion the rest of the body had nursed all Spring and Summer. These trees sigh in relief, knowing the rest of the body will be stronger now.
Where a tree grows in part determines how it copes in this battle with the ice. Country trees, untouched by human hands and able to adapt at will, laugh in the face of the enemy. They are the defiant or the sleepy ones. The city trees, though, constantly trimmed and molded by humans, cannot cope with the ice. They fight, oh how they fight, but their pretty boughs are far too weak to hold out for long. Finally, they begin to give way with moans and shrieks, and at the very end, they have their revenge on the humans. As their limbs fall, they become kamikazes, rending power lines asunder and wrecking havoc on roofs. They plunge the humans into darkness and into the ravages of Winter, forcing them to face the biting wind and the gnawing wet.
As I ride down the interstate, heading for the airplane which will take me South and away from this battlefield, I’m a little sad. For almost all my life, I’ve been a part of this battle. I’ve stood in awe of the ice’s blitzkrieg, I’ve cheered the victorious, I’ve mourned the fallen. I see a redtailed hawk sitting shiva in the top of a broken tree, and my sadness deepens. As I ride, I say a prayer for the fallen and send encouragement to the defiant. I look on in admiration and realize – this really is a Winter wonderland.