This Old Farmhouse

One thing that we have learned by living here is that we are never completely done as far as projects and unexpected things. This year, we have put some projects aside and have decided to “listen to the house” and see what it wants, and evaluate if after years of living in it, our vision is still aligned with it or if we should adjust or deviate from some projects. One of the things we realized is that because we have agreed to age in this house until a certain point, a bedroom on the first floor would be necessary, eventually, thus posing the dilemma of assigning different uses to rooms. It is also time to refresh the paint, and rethink previous choices.

Turning 60 did something to me, an overnight change that I was not expecting. My husband thinks that one of the “pods” exploded overnight and replaced me. I am not sure why, but suddenly life takes another meaning. It presents new possibilities but also grounds you as far as “real time.” What was so important might not be as important anymore, and priorities shift. Time is seen and valued in a different perspective, but also, not taken for granted. Other things don’t seem to matter or bother me anymore. What was, becomes questionable and what is, seems to take another meaning; somehow, what will be does not occupy center place anymore. Complacency or peaceful arrival? It doesn’t even matter. Likes and dislikes changed overnight or at least feels like they did. A new person emerges out of a years’ slumber. Everything is questionable and all is well. Battles are chosen or not at all. That is the best way I can describe it. This of course, affects how I see and interact with my new discovered environment.

We have halted some projects, reviewed others, and scrapped a few. This year, we have not proceeded with any new projects, only clean up, some minor painting, and future considerations. We did not plant anything. This old farmhouse is on standby for now. We have tons of grapes in the grapevine ready to be harvested soon, and picked tons of blueberries, but only a few strawberries this year.

Summer Yummy

We transplanted one of the little cedars that I was growing in a pot. The other two went to my sister’s home. So far, it is doing fine in its new spot in the ground.

The king of the trees

Spring was lovely around here. It has rained a lot during Spring and Summer. Today, we have cooler temperatures, but overall, it was not a hot summer, with the exception of a couple of weeks. The garden did very well.

The weather was on and off; we even had a small rainbow in the backyard while it was pouring rain, and the sun was out, all at the same time.

Lucky charm. One of the most beautiful sights of a very close and low rainbow. I regret not stepping outside and try to “touch it,” but it was raining hard while the sun was fully out.

For now, we are concentrating our efforts on doing some painting indoors and working out the idea of converting the living room into a bedroom and rethinking the downstairs arrangement. No new outdoor projects are taking place for the remainder of this year. Overall, it has been a very pleasant Spring and Summer, and I have enjoyed this year’s mild weather. I am looking forward to the next two seasons.

It is About Focus and Faith

While researching, I came across the following quote, which inspired this blogpost.

“Dictatorships are one-way streets. Democracy boasts two-way traffic.” Alberto Moravia

While reading the above quote, these poetic lines came to mind.

A People’s Will

Soaring above, keen eye, unsteady flight

Eagle must rest on steady land.

Time to choose,

One way street or two-way traffic.

Alberto Moravia was an Italian writer, whom I am not familiar with or have read any of his works; however, this quote stuck with me. It inspired the following.

Many times, people become discouraged by the current political environment. It might affect people in many different ways, whether mentally, emotionally, physically, and even spiritually. There are many things we cannot control directly; however, we can always control how we react to certain issues, events, and our environment. When we focus on what we can control in our daily lives, our focus change, and so does our response and attitude. What I write here, I have applied myself.

Here are examples of controllables. These controllables apply to many of the issues that we might be experiencing under less than pleasant conditions.

I can control,

A healthy diet and exercise

All my decisions

How I decide to start my day and end it

My thoughts

My spending

My relationship with God

My reaction to the people I interact with, or whom I choose to include in my circle

How I choose to view each challenge/problem

How I manage all my resources

How I choose to live my life

My degree of gratitude each day

What I give my time and effort to

The battles I choose to fight or not

How I view my space, my home, my possessions, with gratitude or not

How I value my life

The priorities and values I set daily

How I manage my time and money

My dreams

My expectations of myself, others, and life

The guilt I put on myself and others

What I let into my mind and space

The physical things I surround myself with

How I treat myself (level of respect, love and understanding) as well as others.

These are only a few controllables, but in my opinion and experience, the most important ones, and the ones that will help center our focus when times are not what we expect or desire.

Reflections: One Day at a Time, One Step at a Time

Photo by M.A.D

One day at a time, one step at a time.

Life would be much more pleasant if we would live in that way. This is a lesson I learned later in life. In my younger years, multitasking and the idea of a “superwoman” who thrived on a crammed schedule and did everything to perfection was idealized. Many of us, gender aside, followed that way of living in our everyday interaction. I remember feeling “guilty” if I had “free time” to myself and even worrying that I were to become lazy if I indulged on even an hour of “unproductive” being. The years passed by, and I had become entrapped in one of the biggest lies Society sold me. When I think about it, that way of life was very materialistic in essence, even when I never saw myself as a materialistic person, on the contrary.

Today, I repeated this question, what is truly important to me? Throughout the years, the answer has been narrowed to include the issues at the core of my true values and loves. Today, I finally understand the meaning of living one day at a time, one step at a time, and from that realization, a sense of peace within that recognizes that life is not a race, and I don’t need trophies or crowns to validate my existence; God has already done so when He made me. It is beautiful to achieve dreams and to celebrate our achievements and of others as well, but not at the expense of living. The mere existence of achieving without the joy and beauty of living is contraindicating. Maybe Hans Christian Anderson understood this well.

“Just living is not enough, said the butterfly, one must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower.” Hans Christian Anderson

The Passing of Time

Photo by M.A.D.

It is a rainy day. As I sit in my favorite chair, I glance at the cedar trees that line up the driveway. They dance gently in the wind. The trees have grown so tall since the first time I saw them, back then, when we looked at the property. They were at most, three feet tall, growing wild and free. We considered getting rid of them to open up more land, but my love of pine trees convinced me to keep them all, and I am glad we did, because now, I can look at these trees and smile. They are so lovely, most of them towering over 25 feet, a testament to the passing of time.

I used to think that time is just human invention, human perception to guide humanity throughout the days while living in a material world. In a way, it is true; however, time is more than that. Nature speaks of it “all the time” throughout the seasons, the harvest, the growth of anything and everything on earth. Throughout the journey that each one of us sets on. Time is the silent keeper of our days. One has only to look outside, especially now that winter has given way to spring, and see how the landscape changes daily. Have you ever been amazed at how fast the trees grow their leaves? As if overnight.

The miracle of life throughout the eyes of time. Time becomes more precious when we don’t have enough of it. Youth doesn’t mind the passing of time in the same way, unless life depends on it. In late golden years, time becomes precious, almost borrowed, a divine gift of sorts. It takes on a different meaning; it becomes the friend and foe of life, a duality that only a soul who has lived well comprehends, while finding peace in that knowledge. The eternity of time suddenly seems to dissolve; it has a beginning and end.

A New Outlook Must Follow Leaving Behind

Photo by M.A.D.

As a new year starts, a time for reflection continues, and new beginnings, new goals emerge. New plans are taken into consideration, and a new array of possibilities. For many of us the start of a new year represents a new slate, an exciting journey. We plan, we dream, we ponder, reconsider, and evaluate. We measure ourselves throughout the year left behind. Sometimes, we chastise our self, and other times, we are very pleased with our performance. It is also a time to reflect and leave behind that which does not fit us anymore – the old self that we have been carrying around for years for whatever reason, sometimes, even unaware of its presence. The shadow that once was but remains in our subconscious.

The old self manifests in old habits that don’t serve us anymore, dislikes that we force ourselves to like because we once did, old hobbies that we do not seem to enjoy anymore but think we do, objects that are meaningless to us but we keep, and even beliefs and frame of thought that does not serve us and that we have outgrown by time and experience but seem to have lingered in our lives and mind. Whatever it may be, material or unmaterial, it is better to leave it behind, and make room for new experiences. Sometimes Old Self is heavy and tiresome, even adding mental and emotional weight and clutter that we certainly do not need if we want to live a good life.

As I have pondered and evaluated over the past few weeks, I have found many things that are just not fit for me anymore, material and not, even just present in my life by habit through the years, but not serving the person I am today.

Your life, your space, your mind, should reflect the person you are, not the one you were or even the one you aspired to be once but are not. Life is ever changing, evolving, and sometimes, it turns out better than what we planned for that Old Self. Other times, we might feel that we have not measured up to our expectations, and regret might set in. When that happens, I am reminded and uplifted by this beautiful scripture. It is not critical, judgmental, or demanding. It is simple, sweet, and full of hope and possibilities.

“Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.”

Mathew 5:16

Life’s Staircase

By the end of the year, I find myself looking back, reminiscing of the year, and years back. It is an exercise I welcome; it opens one’s mind and perspective. Whether good moments or less than good moments, it all makes up the big picture, an entire year that turns into memories. It makes me think of life as a staircase. You either go up or down, or sometimes you get tired and rest in the middle. Sometimes, you take one step and back up many, and sometimes, it feels as if you never took one single step, even when you have taken many.

Some people have more steps to take or climb than other people, or it seems. Once you take the first step, you want to go up, even when you don’t know what awaits. During the climb, one defines the staircase, its shape and style, its design, or maybe it has been already defined in part, and our job is to climb it, putting our own print and style on it with the decisions and indecisions we make. It may be winding or straight up, see through or solid, wide steps or narrow. It reminds me of a line from the old TV show The Honeymooners. Norton said, “Be nice to the people you meet on your way up, because they are the same people you will meet on your way down.” Falls hurt, ones more than others. Stumbles are scary, especially the further up you are.

One thing brings comfort. If you don’t like where it is going, it is ok to turn back down. Eventually, you will reach the last step, and inevitably, you will think of the first, and all in between.

“I shall walk in a wide place, for I have sought your precepts.”

Psalm 119:45

Of Words – A Society’s Decline

If you live in the USA, by now you might have heard of the new Texas law on the abortion issue. Let me disclose for the purpose of this blog post, that I am pro-life; however, there was a time when I was much younger, in my twenties, that I considered myself pro-choice. Maturity, and understanding life from another perspective, which I will not discuss here because it would be a lengthy philosophical discussion, led me to what I believe and support now – the right of every human being to live, a shot to be on this planet and become whatever he/she wants to be with God’s blessing. Who am I to prevent that?

I was watching the news on this issue, and two interviews caught my attention. In one, a physician who worked at an abortion clinic in Texas said something about the situation and the Texas law – “It is inhumane, and we are tired …” I am not here to judge anyone, that is God’s job, not mine, but it is interesting to me the choice of words this doctor used. While it is inhumane that he cannot perform abortions on his clinic, apparently, killing babies is not. Uh? Denying a chance for living to a baby is not inhumane? Last time I checked, that fetus belonged to the human species.

On another interview, a nurse at another abortion clinic in Texas said, “..for a woman to have to drive x amount of miles to another state that allows abortions, for a procedure that would take 10-15 minutes is cruel.” Here is another word – cruel – so, it is cruel for someone to have to drive so far, an inconvenience for sure, but it is not cruel to kill a baby. I guess we will have to redefine the entire dictionary eventually.

Pay attention to the words people use around you, and you will see where society is headed. The words that we use today are the reality of tomorrow. Of its words a society becomes.

The Day I Almost Died

This is a short story that came to me this morning, and I decided to include it as today’s blog post. It is a bit grim but not so grim. Eventually, I would like to publish a few of my short stories in an anthology. I hope you enjoy this one.

It was a sunny day; I saw it cloudy. The silence was too loud inside my head. The stillness, a cloak for the raging waters of my soul. I glanced outside my window. The trees moved to the gentle breeze as a dance of death began inside my head. I could hear the deaf sound of loneliness; it had become my lullaby. Isolation became the clothes I wore daily. I searched the empty corridors of my heart over and over; I found nothing. It had morphed into an empty shell of despair, a chamber of hollow beats. There, I found nothing that would justify the next heartbeat.

A chilling breeze danced nearby; Death awaited. I could feel her mutable presence begging me to speed up the process. I was ready. How did it get to this moment? Did it matter? I didn’t require an answer. An answer made things complex. I heard the doorbell. I ignored it. It rang a second time, and a third, until it became noise. I placed the gun next to an empty picture frame. Somehow, I never got to place a picture in it. I counted twelve steps to the door. I opened it. I didn’t bother to bolt it anymore. I had no cares. I forced a smile. It almost hurt at the corners of my mouth. No one was at the other side to return my crooked smile. I looked around; no one was there. I stepped out on the front porch. No one was there.

I saw a splash of red fluttering to my left. A cardinal perched on the Forsythia bush surely made a nice contrast to the bright yellow buds. How did I never noticed that before? Something scurried up the old cedar tree. It was a squirrel, then came another, and they chased each other up and down the old cedar.

“That old cedar must have seen so much,” I mumbled.

I sat on the front steps. A crow marched unpretentiously on the horizon. It almost shimmered as the sun hit its feathers. I felt the warmth of the sun on my skin. How long had it been? A busy party of little brown birds scattered throughout the ground looking for food. A reddish wasp rested atop a chair, as if thawing from a frost or waking from a dream, its wings resting downward. The sun’s warmth felt good on my skin. Everywhere I looked I saw signs of life. Life was everywhere; I could see it if I cared to see it. I felt something fuzzy rubbing my leg in a rhythm.

“Where did you come from, lil’ fellow?”

The disheveled black kitten was skin and bones; I could count its ribs. It kept rubbing against my leg, and I could hear a faint purr becoming louder. It was so tiny. I picked it up and it nuzzled against my arm, then it nestled. I sat out there for a while. The kitten fell asleep in my arms, and I observed the rhythm of life around me.

“What am I going to do with you lil’ fellow? It looks like you will be needing me for a while, at least until you fatten and grow up a bit more.”

The crow restled with a worm until it came out of the ground. The squirrels moved on to another tree.

“What should I name you? Hum, let me think. Aha, you shall be called Rigor, but we’ll leave the mortis out; how is that?”

Rigor became my inseparable friend for the next 15 years. To all, he was a black cat; to me, he was life, and a constant reminder. During that time, I never found out who rang the doorbell.

The Story of Your Life

Photo by Maria Diaz

I believe we are open books, living stories. I believe that there is a book (the book of life) with our story and name in it, and we are free to fulfill that story or not (free will). Sometimes, it feels as if we are on track, everything goes so well and things flow accordingly. At other times, it feels as if every step we take is met by a struggle, a stumble, or a road block. Sometimes, it may feel as if one cannot move at all. Life block, I call it, similar to writer’s block.

The flow of life may not be smooth at times, but it is always constant. From the minute we open our eyes in the morning (or at night) we are making choices/decisions. From what to wear, eat for breakfast, or even if we will get up at all, get to work … to more complicated choices such as career, marriage, and many other issues. Every time we take a step forward (or backward) by deciding, whichever that might be, we are writing the story of our lives. However, it is not only about “me” because those choices/decisions cross over to other people’s lives. I may think that I am living “my life” but my story is intertwined with the story of others. It is happening right now, as I write this post. Someone out there will read it eventually, and will think about these words – our stories have crossed. “Do to others as you would have them do to you.” – Luke 6:31 Could not have said it better.

As writers, we love to make up stories; its is the air we breathe. However, the most important story we’ll ever write is our own.

When Reality Does Not Match Idyllic Expectations

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Crow on a foggy morning Photo by M.A.D.

The shiny crow

One nature’s note

The lovely sound

Of Autumn’s song.

 

We start to dream when we are children. We imagine fantastic worlds, magical places, dream  of toys, and in general, anything seems possible and attainable. As we grow up, we learn that things are not always as we imagined or hoped. We learn disappointment when we don’t get the toy we expected, or pain and sadness when a beloved pet dies. Other children learn these lessons on a more somber note, the death of a parent or friend, hunger, or abuse. Every person experiences life in a different way at a different level. However, we manage to keep on dreaming throughout adulthood, and many, up to the time of death.

We have idyllic expectations in life, and many times we are lucky enough to live many of those dreams. Sometimes what we have imagined, what we have carefully crafted in our minds, does not match the accomplished/realized dream. It is a total let down, another disappointment in life, and almost as if we never learned those childhood lessons. It is the theme of many stories. Writers experience disappointment when books do not sell as well as expected or hoped. In anything in life there are ups and downs, and those are necessary for growth, to take us to the next level through a natural flow. It is called living.

When I moved from New Jersey to Virginia (USA), I moved from the city to the country. I had idyllic expectations of what country living would be like, romanticized ideas as well – green pastures, grazing cows, rolling hills, fresh air, cozy winters … I can go on and on. Little did I know that the first year I would encounter a cloud of migrating lady bugs look-alike japanese beetles in our area, landing everywhere and looking for shelter before winter. These would arrive in waves throughout the day for weeks. At the same time, a large amount of alien bugs (alien to me that is) known as stink bugs was trying to do the same, look for shelter before winter. Autumn, my favorite time of the year had turned into a nightmare. I was not used to these insects nor was I used to these clouds in number, or any other type, as I had lived pretty much insect free for most of my life, being bugged by an ocassional spider or a lonely wasp. Mosquitoes were my only nuisance as I lived near the water. I was afraid to go outside during the “arrivals” and soon I learned to time their peak hours. Luckily their presence lasted less than a month, that is, until next season. Winter became my favorite time of the year. Cold weather meant no bugs. Spring became a bug fest as well, and for the first time I realized that there were so many, oh so many, insects I had never seen. Never did I experience so many types of wasps flying at once. Soon my closest neighbors became used to my screaming fits, and the occasional sight of a mad woman running through the field being followed by a giant wasp.

The idyllic expectations about country living gave way to reality. I told my friend that living in the country seemed to be more work than living in the city. Awareness became important as well. The other day I was heading out the back door to pick up my mail, and as I stepped down only two steps, a leaping deer crossed in front of me followed by another one, a very close call. Farm dogs were running after them, and being terrified, they were flying for their lives. I was so lucky; one more step and there would have been an unfortunate encounter with nature. I have seen the damage deer can cause to cars. On another occasion what I thought was a piece of black rubber left behind was a black snake.

The point to all this rambling is that at one point, when reality does not match idyllic expectations, we get to decide how we are going to set our focus, and that will determine the degree of “happiness or disappointment” as well as our next step in life. Do we focus on the less  than perfect image or do we start seeing the rest of the picture? So many other beautiful and interesting things can be found in it. I am starting to enjoy Autumn once more. Every day I see something different, from colorful and weird mushrooms to even four-leaf clovers. I have found four so far.

I always try to relate every blog post to the topic of writing. Maybe books are not selling as expected, and you are thinking about quitting writing, even when you love it so much. You are a story-teller and writing is like the air you breathe. Maybe you can adjust your focus away from profitability or recognition, and see the beauty in finding words to tell a story that has been sleeping in your imagination. The story that will be shared with the world, whether it makes you money or not. After all, if you love telling stories so much, and these stories have become alive inside the pages of a book, it only takes one reader to make them real. The purpose has been met. When reality does not match idyllic expectations move your eyes away and place them back on another spot.