Live every day as if it were your last. If the old adage is followed, at the end of life's journey, one should be able to feel that their life has been well lived. Just exactly though, does one live life well? It would seem that if followed, the result would either be a happy well adjusted individual or a narcissist. The fine line comes, I think, in the feelings of those with whom that life is shared.
It speaks to the character of a person when those sharing the same space are living a happy and fulfilling life. This is not to say that all days are filled with wine and roses. Real life is not that way. Staying focused on wrapping tendrils of positive energy around one's self and others does lead to that well-lived life.
To that end, being surrounded by positive, uplifting people make the life journey an easier road. My list of these people has recently expanded thanks to the explosion of social networking sites. One such person if my brother's ex-wife. Only appearing in my life at a young age, and then disappearing quickly, it was years before our paths would cross. Thanks to our cyber universe, she has gently wound herself around my heart. She is a voice of experience and wisdom, and a sister who was missing from my life for far too long.
A family sharing life and love and friends that have become more like siblings than my own provide an environment for those positive energy tendrils to wrap around the hearts of all involved. While not exactly living each day as if it were my last, I am -- finally -- living my life well.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Ghosts and the long and winding road
As usual, when it is time to go to bed, my head runs in different directions, and I find myself often not wanting or, at other times, not able to fall asleep. On this particular night, I found myself thinking of past ghosts that seemed to rise from nowhere and fill the inky blackness of my bedroom. Awash in the memories and unable to sleep, I found my way to the computer.
With a click of a mouse, the computer hummed to life under my finger tips, and I found myself stroking the keys in a mad rush. I found a friend, an old soul from years gone by, willing to listen and provide much needed wisdom. It was during this discourse that I came face to face with the ghosts of the parents I wish I had versus the material being.
In recounting life events that could have been, I pondered where the steps toward the pothole filled road could have been averted, and a more even and stable road taken instead. What impact could have been made by open lines of communication between parent and child? Is this conflict between ghosts and shadows of what could have been a legacy that must be fulfilled?
Thoughtful and thought provoking answers were provided. My friend’s wisdom and honesty helped some old ghosts find a resting place. Other ghosts, although not vanishing completely, were calmed. I found myself looking at truths that I had not expected to find. Perhaps all of this answer seeking madness is really a juxtaposition of the parenting I received and my own parenting skills. One truth is that most children grow up and away from their parents, regardless of how they were parented.
The road begins the same – away from the parental nest. What appearance the road takes next can be altered to some extent by the type of parenting the child received while still in that nest. Indifferent parenting can almost guarantee a difficult path. Choosing to be an active and involved parent may seem to lead to a harder road in the short term, but the adult road is more even and easily travelled. This produces fewer ghosts to deal with on sleepless nights.
With a click of a mouse, the computer hummed to life under my finger tips, and I found myself stroking the keys in a mad rush. I found a friend, an old soul from years gone by, willing to listen and provide much needed wisdom. It was during this discourse that I came face to face with the ghosts of the parents I wish I had versus the material being.
In recounting life events that could have been, I pondered where the steps toward the pothole filled road could have been averted, and a more even and stable road taken instead. What impact could have been made by open lines of communication between parent and child? Is this conflict between ghosts and shadows of what could have been a legacy that must be fulfilled?
Thoughtful and thought provoking answers were provided. My friend’s wisdom and honesty helped some old ghosts find a resting place. Other ghosts, although not vanishing completely, were calmed. I found myself looking at truths that I had not expected to find. Perhaps all of this answer seeking madness is really a juxtaposition of the parenting I received and my own parenting skills. One truth is that most children grow up and away from their parents, regardless of how they were parented.
The road begins the same – away from the parental nest. What appearance the road takes next can be altered to some extent by the type of parenting the child received while still in that nest. Indifferent parenting can almost guarantee a difficult path. Choosing to be an active and involved parent may seem to lead to a harder road in the short term, but the adult road is more even and easily travelled. This produces fewer ghosts to deal with on sleepless nights.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Reflection, November 7
Stress and frustration hang over me like some distant rain cloud, which threatens at each moment to spill it’s wet drops. The more I fight against it, the closer it comes, until I just give in and allow myself to be enveloped in it’s inky darkness. My body is showing the effects of the battle, with skin that is freckled with an acne outbreak, and a bloat that resembles an overfilled balloon.
It is hard to move past the obvious signs to what lies festering just beneath the surface. The aches and pains of multiple illnesses claw and gouge their way in, making me rail against them one moment, and give in the next. This continual see sawing fight is wearing on me, allowing for raw nerves to edge ever closer to surface. It doesn’t take much for emotions to come tumbling out, one over the other as my family watches in a shocked disbelief.
Relief comes in small waves of medication and sleep. It becomes a crazy cycle that I can’t break free of.
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