I am an 80 year old woman who enjoys writing poems, an occasional thought or observation and anecdotal stories. I have raised six children and have ten grandchildren who, unfortunately, live far away. Because of my husband's work I have lived in many different cities and countries. I now, however, spend my time either in the city or in the country with my husband and our little bichon/maltese.
I love to read, listen to music, take long walks and I very much enjoy writing.
I have no formal training but writing takes me out of myself and I feel a need to share things with others. I hope that in so doing, I am able to amuse and perhaps, in some small way, help someone.
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My son called from Victoria and put me on speaker phone so that I could hear my 9 year old twin granddaughters play the piano. They each played a piece, then together, they played a duet on the violin. It was abolutely delightful - almost as good as being there! What a thoughtful surprise for a Nana who lives so far away.
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God speaks to me in silence. Do I hear His voice? In the woods on Tuesday, was I listening? Did I hear Him in the birds, in the trees, in the flowers? And, yes, did I hear Him in the insects?
Kathy asked me what I’d write? And as I paused to ponder, I heard her say, “Walk softly for this is sacred ground.” And I thought, speak softly for this is a place of silence where nature has a lot to say about life, death and rebirth.
Was I listening to its gentle counsel? Or was I too busy making endless chatter? Did the tiny flowers peeking up, daring to be counted, if only for a day, delight me? Did the trees bursting forth once again after a cycle of death and rebirth impress me? Did the insects annoy me? Or did they make me wonder about my own existence, which often feels useless? And the birds – was I enchanted by their song? Did I admire their nesting, feeding – living?
And I thought, when we truly listen we hear God. When we are still, when we are silent, we become aware of it all, we find ourselves in His creation. What an amazing thing it is to think, no, to know, that we too are part of this magnificent system, this fascinating rhythm of the universe. What joy it is to know. To really know!
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Our world is full of noise In our homes, On the streets - in our heads. Noise, noise, noise.
Where is the silence that refreshes, That soothes, That calms?
Why can we not be still And listen to the silence In our hearts?
Why can we not be silent And simply be? Be silent and hear The murmur of God.
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If there were but one person on earth, would that person survive the aloneness, the dreadful not-able-to-share, the no-one-to-talk-with?
Would that person recognize his image were it observed in the water or on a polished stone? With no one to confirm his existence would he go mad?
Man is not meant to be alone. We need another to be complete.
Question: Does God need us? Is this why we were created?. Do we recognize Him in another? Do we see Him in nature? Or are we too indifferent to care?
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I am walking down a dirt road. It is dark and I am alone. I am afraid. I cannot see - there is no moonlight to guide me no flashlight in my hand. I look for a stick - something to keep me from falling or tripping into a ditch. What am I doing here, I wonder? Where am I going? . . . I awaken with a start and am incredibly relieved to find it is only a dream!
What are dreams? Are they meant to teach and guide us - to perhaps show us the way? . . . Or are they random thoughts floating in our brains in search of a story to tell? Was this dream about my journey? Am I searching for the light?
Or was it simply In the darkness, a dream? |
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While walking through the mall one day I noticed a woman coming towards me; how tired she looked - how sad . . .. You poor thing, I thought, I wish I could help you. It was with horror that I realized as she approached me, I was looking at my own reflection in the store window! The shock of this experience prompted me to write the following:
IMAGE Well, hello there I’ve been waiting for you to notice me. What’s wrong? You do not recognise me? Ah, I’m not who you expected, I know.
Look again. Who do you see? I am someone who loves you. Did you know that? Don’t look away I want us to become acquainted Become friends And maybe, just maybe Like each other!
So, who do you see? Look closely; Pay attention to the eyes, the mouth, Oh, not whether they are attractive Read what they are telling you Look at the expression in the face.
Not ready yet? That’s okay – I’m not going anywhere I’ll be waiting Waiting for you to notice me I am your image and friend I am you.
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To blog or not to blog is the question? I have always loved writing but wonder if blogging is for me? I've been told I would be leaving myself open to criticism and perhaps ridicule. Or worse, be told to learn how to write! This is a possibiity but I am willing to give it a try and see how it goes.
I am an 80 year old woman ( my birthday just last week). I've raised six children and have ten grandchildren. Unfortunately, they do not live near me and I often feel lonely. I have a 1 year old bichon maltese that recently replaced a terrrapoo that passed away in the fall. Her name is Boo. I never thought I could get attached to another dog, but there is no limit to love and she now occupies a special place in my heart.
I have a lot of things to write about - lots of stories to tell, a few poems to throw in and many many thoughts to share. Should I continue to blog - or not? That is the question.
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