Purposeful Thursday…

October 15, 2015

This morning upon waking I glanced around the gray infused early light, my thoughts wanting to boil over like a big pot of soup. Last night before retiring, I wrote down a couple things to do this morning, along with a short sentence using one positive word for today. I glanced at the sentence after I allowed myself to delve into thinking for a few minutes and started my day. I fixed a breakfast of leftover potato soup and some unsweetened apple sauce and walked out on the sunny back patio. Setting the timer for fifteen minutes I ate in silence. Afterwards I got up and stood in each of the four corners of the patio and took in the warm rays and listened to the birds over the faint traffic sounds. I then said two sentences (two words from two days ) with my words: I’m grateful to you God. Thank you God.

Picking up the empty containers and a couple more things on the table, I walked inside to start the dishwasher and household chores. Sometimes it is good to not think. Simply be and express positive output to the Creator.

I am ready for the day.

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Last Night…

August 4, 2015

Was a dreamless night. I awoke even before my alarm sounded and dared not look at the time. If I look, I cannot go back to sleep. Staring into the cool darkness I turned over, adjusted my pillow, and pulled the covers around my throat. Sometime afterwards the chime brought me into morning.

This is a calm day for me. I let go of  more material things early this A.M. with the scheduled curbside pickup. I can still see the items waiting dutifully for their transportation to their new home, I feel no guilt. Some of the items are brand new, still in their original containers. Others, old as the hills, but with a good cleaning and if desired, some paint, can earn their keep. The main point is to let them do what they were created to do. Be useful.

I remind myself that things are just exactly that. They have no love, no hate, no anything. You can pick something up that brings you a thousand memories and it feels nothing. It sits silently in your hands with no where to go, except where you direct.

  I have no dirt from my childhood, yet I close my eyes and still smell its rich dark aroma. The tree that produced huge sweet pears so full of juice that it dripped down your chin is gone, but my mind conjures it up, complete with the large buzzing bumblebees, yellow jackets, and honey bees that feasted off the bounty for years. The year after we moved the tree died. I always said that it missed us. I still believe that. We grew up playing under it, our dog having his house nearby. After the dog died and we left, I think it realized it had done its work. It provided us with sweet smells, delicious pears, shade, and a sturdiness for years. We, in turn, had given it sounds of laughter and  joy, receiving the fruit with squeals of delight, playing many years around it throughout our young days. The time came to move on…and the tree had loved us in the way it could and we had loved it back.

Thoughts are in my mind…and I can carry them wherever I go, with no fear of them not having a place. For they are in my heart and I think of them often.

Morning is past the light has gone
Evening tide rolls thick with fog
Soon night shall claim a restless soul
Whose mind and heart with sorrow untold
Once hope did breathe so shallow there
Within the being of one so fair
Small child of yesterday in time
I weep I weep dear child o’ mine
The tears that flow down cheeks of kin
Spill for the life that might have been
God knows the reasons and the why
So He may comfort by and by
If mercy shows His part Divine
Then heart and soul can rest in time

Copyright 2013