THE GRANDMOTHERS’ GIFT

          Mornings are special for me, especially on Sundays. This is my day to reflect and give thanks for the gifts that I have received during the week, but one particular Sunday, I found myself giving homage to my grandmothers.

            It began as most with a quiet morning of tea at my kitchen table, and then a second cup outside.  From a wrought iron rocking chair, I have full view of my sparkling pool, and an aviary filled with Lovebirds that begin their day splashing about in soft bubbling waters.  This day, a treasure among most, continued in usual spirit and routine as Bevva, a chow-poodle mix, rested her chin on my robe covered knee; it was time to meander indoors, and out of the biting cold air.

            When entering, and before meditation, I noticed a plant in need of much water, so without thought, I reached for a pitcher. I have two: one is a small light green ceramic. The other is stoneware, grey with a crest of blue wildflowers, and each, once belonged to a great-great grandmother.

            In routine, I filled the smaller container and began to water each plant with care; it required several refills in order to nourish all plants living throughout the house.   For the larger plants, I chose the grey crock. Satisfied that all planters were filled, I dried each pitcher, inside and out, but with particular care when drying the smaller pitcher. You see, this particular piece required special care to dab softly when drying its base because my paternal grandmother, in her wisdom, placed numbered stickers on all family heirlooms.  With each number there is a matching code listed inside a notebook with a written explanation of who owned what and how it was used.

Like so many times before, I was careful to keep in place the number 345, but that day for some reason, I grew more curious about it. I knew the pitcher belonged to a grandmother, and on my dad’s side of the family, but that is all I knew, so the search was on… Where was the notebook?

The matching number was easily located and included a written history: “My grandmother’s. A wedding gift from her cousin, my mother’s side, ‘Drake’. Used for milk at breakfast or water at dinner. Given to my mother when mom and dad moved into their own home. Given to me by my step-mother, Birdie Low, when I was a teenager.” (My grandmother’s mom died when she was only child.)  Displayed lovingly in the Guest room.”

After discovering its history, I couldn’t help but wonder about the women who used it before me. What were they like? What dreams did they dream? Do their spirits live on in me, or do they feel my touch when I embrace the handle their hands once clutched? I wondered with a gracious chuckle, if when my great-great grandmother gifted her wedding present to her daughter, did it ever occur to her that 100 years later, her great-great grand-daughter would use it to water house plants? Probably not.

I spent the better part of that day researching dishes, quilts, and trinkets, and when I reached for the last antique, I found myself on the phone to learn about Mom's family, and the women whose jewelry I wear.

            Turning into bed that night and reflecting once more, I took great comfort in adding my day’s work to my Gift Journal: Spent the day with six amazing, strong, life changing women: My Grandmothers’.

You've Got It!

http://www.flickspire.com/m/LifeSecrets/ThePower

IMPRESSIONS

            You never know what kind of impression you make on someone. Think about it… How many times have you immersed yourself in work or activity, only to catch your mind wondering about a secret mentor, friend, teacher, or even a stranger who made an impression on you? It happens all the time; someone says something, or gives advice that you’ve been waiting for; but have you ever wondered what lessons you leave with others?

The phone rang, and like Captain Kirk, I flipped it open. “Hello?” The caller was a friend I had not heard from in years. Cynthia and I met in another life, when we were both in sales. She and I, and four other women, also in sales, use to meet every Wednesday for lunch. We called it our “Out Early” because that’s what happened; we ate, laughed, brainstormed, and soothed our souls over something chocolate, until it was time to go home. However, life evolves, and as marriages, children, career changes, and relocations ensued; our Wednesday lunches dwindled, until they simply ceased to exist.

            “Robin,” she said, “Kate and I want to have a get-together of sorts! You know...lunch!” Cynthia’s details, were meticulous with schedule and theme...always a theme. “Oh, and bring a gift. Something that represents what’s been keeping you busy all these years.” We ended our call, and I knew without a doubt, Cynthia had not changed a bit. She was still spunky, organized, and energetic, which meant that she was still slender…I was positive of that… I wondered about Kate, though. She was the quiet one, so I was surprised that it was her idea to co-host a reunion.

Kate’s home was impressive. It sat atop a hill dotted with aloe and daisies. With the car parked, via valet, I began my stroll up the meandering path sided by a trickling creek bed, spotted with more cacti in bloom. Beyond three flagstone steps, an antique marble topped table was placed strategically under an old twisted mesquite. On the table a ‘Welcome’ sign and small velvet drawstring bags lay, each one with a guests name attached. Inside were instructions indicating that all should rove around the house to the bronze iron gate. The gift bag also held a trinket, which with pleasure, I clasped around my wrist.

Lush tropical plantings bordered the path. Water features designed to look like underground streams bubbled to the surface. Around the corner, Kate, lovely as ever, and younger (how did she do that?), greeted her guests with smiles, and a glass of iced hibiscus tea.

The view of dunes that overlooked the Gila Valley was amazing. A cascade of Desert Mountains sculpted by centuries of wind framed the scene perfectly. Beside the pool, Cynthia put finishing touches of crystal cucumber-water filled goblets and buckets of chilling Almond champagne on the table. Yes…I was in the right place…

            All was lovely, and as expected, things turned wild…in a girl-woman sort of way. Laughter and elaboration of story flourished as each of us brought our gal-pals up to speed with the sads and glads of all that had grown to be. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect day, until Kate, with a tapping on her glass said, “A Toast!”

            “To my vision guided by each and every one of YOU! Blessings.” Kate spoke with elegance and gratitude thanking each of us for her success. She explained that whenever obstacles crossed her, she turned her thoughts on what Belinda or Robin would do. Or how Cynthia or Debra would arrange that. Or perhaps what Barb would say?

            I felt humbled. You see, the six of us met on Wednesday’s. Otherwise, we didn’t communicate much. We had our lives outside of work and “Out Early” was part of work, but to Kate, our lunches meant more. She valued our opinions and put them to work. For years, unbeknownst to us, our words and experiences guided Kate in her creation. We played a role in her success, and while she was thanking us for that, I was overcome with love and gratitude… I was overcome with the gift that she was giving me. Without Kate’s revelation, would I have ever known my role in someone else’s success? Remember the gift we were supposed to bring? Well, beyond the ribbon and purple striped paper, my gift that day could not compare to what had been given to me… I am forever grateful.

           

DID YOU SAY YES WHEN YOU REALLY MEANT NO?

Moss Hart, Playwright and Theatre Director, said it best: "All the mistakes I ever made were when I wanted to say no and said yes."

During moments of reflection, when past transgressions clutter my mind, it is clear where my mistakes were born, and more times than not it is because I said yes; even through screams that shot from my head and out through my ears with a wild No! No! NO! (Couldn't the sweet thing offering me 'an opportunity' hear that?) But never mind blaming her. I'm the one who said...ah, yes. I'm the one who allowed someone else to control me. And why? It's simple. I didn't listen to me! I call it the 'Didn't Listen to Me' syndrome; and it is a crutch from the past. You know, that sickness we developed because we wanted to please everyone? We wanted to be liked? Blah!

Once upon a time, I thought I was doomed as a slave to the 'yes' monster, but recently, I learned that like most anomalies, this one is curable to. How? I know it's cliche, but just say NO. In a kind tone of voice. When you say no when you mean no, and if you pay attention, you will notice that your body will thank you. Your mind will feel free, and your heart will be at peace. When your mind is free and your heart is peaceful, you are in control of you and the life you create will be one of freedom, peace, discipline, love...

"Our Truest Life is When We Are in Our Dreams Awake."

...Henry David Thoreau

How many of us are living our dream? Do you even know what your dream is? Think back to when you were a child. What did you do? Were you a builder? Did you tell stories? When you played house, what role did you play? What were your favorite conversations about?

Think back. When you were using your imagination, who were you?

TRUTH

To Have Abundance,

To Take Abundance,

And Still,

Abundance Remains

THINK ABOUT IT

Do you remember Mickey Mouse's fabulous role in Fantasia? He played a wizard, and a very wise wizard at that. Wizardry, the art, or practice of using extraordinary skills, was simply an attempt to use, and explain a component of metaphysical science. Alchemy, another scientific practice during medieval times, uses components of physical science that went further in exploration. Alchemist weren't interested in controlling the weather, or some nuisance from a neighboring village. They were interested in changing common metals into gold. Later, and figuratively speaking, the Alchemists philosophy graduated into one that says, if we can take any common material and change it into gold, wouldn't we all be rich? Today's alchemist believes in plenty for all. So with that metaphor, what is gold?

By common definition, we know about gold. It's valuable and if you are in ownership of plenty, you are rich. But why were a bunch of medieval scientists wanting to turn common metals, dirt if you will, into gold? The answer? They wanted to be rich, of course! Simply, they wanted what gold could provide. But the practice of alchemy wasn't just about a bunch of guys wanting to get rich. After all, if they could discover a way to turn a farmers dirt into gold, wouldn't that benefit the farmer as well? If the alchemist could, by manipulation show the brick layer how to transform his mud into gold, would not the brick layer benefit? Alchemy is the practice of taking something common and turning it into something of more value.

So what does this have to do with you and me? I believe that whatever we believe, we can conceive. I believe that thought is energy, and what we think about, comes about. So here it is...Could all this nonsense about our economy be something we've contrived? I still wait my turn at restaurants. I still wait in lines at the grocery store. Too many tall people still sit in front of me at the movie theater. And today, I'm going to look at a jeep that I want to purchase.
And without shame, I will admit and give thanks that I am blessed.

There is still another philosophy that alchemy holds true with...if we listen to that small still voice within (I call it God), and if we share just 10 percent of our wealth with those who feed our souls, we can have whatever we want! Isn't that taking something of value and making it better?
So what do we do about our country's state of affairs? Perhaps we can begin by improving upon our own worlds. We could resist the temptation of the I can't. Do what is right. Come to think of it, isn't that what the wizard's apprentice learned?