You just never know when or how you'll click with someone.  In many circumstances, we're not even aware of the exact moment we click.  Hard work can bring you closer faster.  You see your strengths, and find your role in hard work.  Shall we lead, shall we laugh, shall we push through together?   Click Click Click!

I now work for a friend who use to be my client.  I was referred to her through another client who had friends over playing Bridge who knew the lady who needed a gardener! (who lived in the house that Jack built)

She is a very fun woman in her seventies with a great sense of humor, knows what she wants and wants what she wants. She asked if I'd help her with a project to move her mountains of storage. I agreed. We worked for several months to get her moved out of a storage unit in another county, then go through said storage, sell or give away, and get organized. It was quite the ordeal for her.  She had to encounter memories of her husband, her mother, and her collection of life's "I think I'll keep this" stuff.  She handled it with grace, but she needed a hand emotionally and physically.  I was that person.  We clicked.

We'd go about our long day and quote poems, or sing songs from our childhoods.  We shared many familiar songs.  She'd start out by saying, "I wonder if you know this song." Then she'd sing the first few lines of the verse.  I'd take it from there and sing the next lines and then we'd both just finish the song or chorus together.  We'd be laughing or smiling one of those huge smiles you just can't wipe off your face.  The kind that comes from deep inside and holds on to your face muscles.  You know.

So poetry and music clicked us together as we work so hard and long to get her project done.  We also had great sarcastic laughs.  Got more familiar with each other as a long day can bring out the honest truth of yourself.

Clicking with people can be such a journey.  I highly suggest it.      Click Click Click!

So with this in mind, I give you the poem that she gave me in my birthday card a few days ago.  Yes. I'm a year older, wiser, & don't forget much more humorous too. Life is just too short to not jump in and LIVE!

Always Something Sings

Let me go where're I will,

I hear a skye-born music still;

It sounds from all things old

      It sounds from all things young

From all that's fair, from all that's foul,

       Peal out a cheerful song.

It is not only in the rose,

       It is not only in the bird,

Nor only where the rainbow glows,

       Nor in the song of women heard,

But in the darkest, meanest things

There always, always something sings.

Tis not in the high stars alone,

        Nor in the cups of budding flowers,

Nor in the redbreast's mellow tone,

Nor in the bow that smiles in showers,

But in the mud and scum of things

There always, always something sings. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

(pats heart, and points to you)

They take bites, chew, then throw out random comments.

"Oh man that guy is loosing his mouth guard."

"He's trying to be ASAP...As safe as possible."

"No time outs remaining."

"Go, go goooooooooo! Yeah!"

Late breakfast and basketball fills the room.

My mind drifts back to the keyboard as I check my mail, then do my posting & newsletter set up for the pub.  There's a rhythm to the task when I let the noise of a room fade to the background. There in the zone my mind comes alive with thoughts and processing.  Talking to myself quietly with some sense of control, if that makes any sence at all. Thoughts Thoughts Thoughts! Did you see the movie, For The Love of the Game with Keven Costner? He was a pitcher and when he'd take the mound, he'd say to himself, "Clear the mechanism," and the outside throb of the crowd would fade out.  He was in his zone.  His mind was now organizing the focus for his task.  He commits to the focus.  Now as he's pitching this critical "perfect game", the director has his thoughts as a flashback that are also going through his mind as a baseball player who is pitching his last game. His life is on the mound with him. It's intense. He's focused on the outside, but in his own head, there's so much more going on.  Is he truly focused "in the zone?" 

How about everyone we work with, or live among or ride on the bus, in the elevator, in the next office? They're doing the work or in many cases going through the motions of focus, but what else is going on in their heads as they work, play, pass you on the street.  How big is the plate that they hold and take with them in a life?  Do we have time to let the past come forward, thank it for it's time and lessons or dismiss it, banish it into the past forever and shut the door? Do we assume that everyone else has it all worked out in their focus in the zone?  Maybe some do, but the more I'm out among the people, the more it seems do not. 

Maybe people think they have no time to think in their zone.  It's all about tuning out for them.  Maybe others fine comfort in just doing and doing and doing with no time to think. Maybe the thinking stays focused on the material thoughts.  I need, I want.  Maybe that's the point.  Maybe they don't want to think about what would make it better or less painful or even surrender to "It is what it is, right now." I do know that surrender is not defeat in the zone, it is a path to a better zone. My focus has become clearer since I surrendered to being myself with awareness of others inability to do the same thing and share rather than judge.  If you can, you should. The world needs examples of people who bring a light to the zone. 

Maybe I could maybe all day. 

Reading this over, I ask myself...What were you thinking?"

I kicked myself out of my quiet comfort zone to ask myself if it is another way to escape thinking the thoughts that move me forward to a better zone. 

Guess I'll have to think about that!  I know there's room in my head for reflection.

(pats heart, and points to you) 

I'll be taking the drive tomorrow.  It'll all start out with that feeling of freedom. Ah! On the road.  The day will be beautiful no matter the weather, cause "I'm on the road!" 

Then I'll start thinking.  The week will flow through my mind.  I'll laugh at how my body once again absorbed more than my own stuff and I'll let some of it go as I take in the scenery.  Can't remember for the life of me (I think I got that catch phrase from my mom), but few years ago I read and then passed on to everyone I knew about asking yourself if you can let something go.  Did I share it here?  Can't remember for the life of me. Anyway...I started using it with thoughts and pain.  I'd put my hand on a hurting muscle and ask myself if I could "let it go."  YES YES YES!, I'd respond...okay not that excited, more WILLING.  You then follow up the letting go with, "and more and more and more."

Going up north to see my Mom as she celebrates 92 years on this fine planet.  I have a gig on Sunday back home so it'll be a fast trip and a there's few friends who are worried that it might stress me out.  It might, but since I'm on the road with a "all I need is love in my heart and a moment to think it through before opening my mouth," I've reassured them and myself (cough cough) that I'm going to let my life unfold now. Brings more emotion to the songs, right? 

The week has been full, Full, FULL so getting out on the road sounds good. I'll put a cd in the player, let my mind do it's thing, let the thoughts pass and process and then maybe I'll open the window with a song in my heart and "let it go."

Makes room for more and more and more, and hey...most of it is good stuff, you know... it just gets clogged up with the icky negative stuff, because icky negative stuff is icky and wants to stick!  I know, it's simplified wording because I want it to be simple.  When I make something big in my thoughts...the universe always responds with more drama.  When I move on and let go...drama moves on too.

It types out like a great plan.  For the Life of Me.

We'll be talking on the otherside of it.  (pats heart, and points to you)

  "Can I have your heart this week?"

  "No.  It's my turn.  I asked for it last week remember?"

  "Oh yeah, that's right, you did."

  "Can I be on your waiting list Mrs. H?"

  This is one of many conversations that has gone on about my heart.  Oh...I suppose it's important here to tell you that the heart that is being requested is a sterling silver heart that I wear on a long silver chain.  On September 11, 2001, I put it on and have worn it every day since.  I wear it to remind me of the loss of people I never met, but whose lives affected me in a tremendous way.  I also wear it to be my "touch stone" reminder to come from a place in my heart before judging, responding, or over reacting to life and it's events.

  When I first started volunteering at Miss A and Hoop's school, the little girls and some of the boys asked about it.

  "Is that a locket?"

  "No. It is one solid piece."

  "I bet I could open it for you."

  "It doesn't open."

  "Can I try?"

  "Sure."  I handed it over to the child as I had done many times so they could prove to themselves that it just won't open. 

  "My mom has one that's a locket."

  "Oh really?"

  "Why do you wear it every day?"

  "Well..I like to remember to speak and think from my heart and this heart is my reminder."

  "Can I wear it?"

  "Sure."

  They each wear it, and not one child over the three years has got into trouble with the teacher for not paying attention to their work.  They wear it quietly and proudly.  Each new school year a few new children get on the waiting list to wear it.  Everyone who wants to wear it has had their turn.  Amazingly, they always remember to get it back to me even when I've started out the door without it.

I wrote this in the Spring of 2009.  These preteens are now getting ready to go on to the seventh grade.  I still wear the heart and it still reminds me to stay grounded in my heart and has also been an opening for many conversations with adults about living life from the heart, mind, spirit and inner strength. Last week I took the class of 2012 out to the garden to take a class picture. They don't ask to wear my heart anymore, but I've heard them remark to each other about it. 

"Remember Mrs. H's heart?"

"I loved it." 

They still treat me like I'm no stranger as we spent so much time together when they were younger.  They smile and wave in the hallways as they pass me at the school.  With my daughter leaving this June, I'll be going too.  Three children, nine years later and my heart still leads me home.

We build as we go.

  "Oh Mrs. H!"

  "Yes?"

  "Don't forget your heart!"

(pats heart  and points to you)

When was the last time you had a great conversation?  You know, the type that had you feeling more decisive, or maybe the one that put you over the edge to "do something about it!" Or how about the one that you learn something more about yourself because you listened, then thought about it, then responded, then laughed.  Or when you're hurting inside, and someone takes the time to ask and friendships begin and new relationships with ourselves emerge, and... my list could go on and on, but I know you "get it."  You are amazing!

These conversations as relates to myself have pulled me forward.

My conversations about problems are what they are; a venting, or processing.  My conversations that just come up between friends and everyday new people in my "out in the fray" working world, well they are my stepping stones to learning what makes me tick. 

"Wait."  (tick tick tick)  Not what makes us tick.  It's more observing how we respond to life when engaging in repartee that goes beyond, "How's the weather."

I do love the ones that have me walking away smiling to myself.  Warm fuzzy conversations are fine too.  Conversations with 75 to 80 year old people have been gems of enlightenment.  Reminds me most of the time that I should listen more and make eye contact with more people before time sweeps by.  The eyes are true.  I can spot the "BS" almost immediately, so it makes it easier to make my exit from the contact with no harm to any of us! All of them give me perspective. I like having my finger on the pulse of different life situations.  Makes me grow like the gardens I tend.

Ah, but the gift you ask?  What's the Gift Returning!

Last week I ran into three people who I hadn't seen in quite a while.  All three brought up our last conversation as it related to them.  They were smiling.  (@saintvi posted a bit a go about smiling in situations and looking around your "waiting situation".  She's a smart lady. )

Anyway...the three had been relating to other people within a conversation and they 'thought of me'.  I myself have said that very thing to others. 

Thank you for the Gift. Seems we've been passing around gifts for a while, supporting through thought. Thoughts create, you know.  If you thought of one person at this moment, who'd made a difference in your life (big or small) you are sending them a gift right now. A loving thought just hit them. Poof!  Now that's the good stuff. Our thoughts are prayers/energy/incert your form of connection here.

I'm getting the thought that I better get my tail out of here and go work in the succulent/cactus garden.  There's gifts there too, but you know that.

(pats heart, and points to you)

I can smell the hash browns cooking and there's coffee in the air. French pressed coffee.  The King is at it in the kitchen and I love him for getting up and making sure we don't eat cold cereal on a cold morning. 

This year our Christmas tree was so fresh, never loosing any needles, so he dragged it out side and set it up in the front yard a few weeks ago. Not to the side, nope, right in the front blocking one of the ways in. He'd also put it back in the tree stand full of water to keep the freshness.  I was thinking at the time how I'd like to make it disappear and how would I explain to him that the trash guys just up and took it?  Couldn't do it.  In years past we've decorated it for the birds, but this year I work all the time and I'd come down with a bad head cold and lots of deadlines to keep me miserable.  I knew I had a long shift so I stayed in bed for the first time in years to rest until I had to get to work.

I wasn't really aware of what the family was doing. My door was shut and I'd watch a Netflix then dose awhile.  When I got ready to leave it was getting dark.  I felt better and my head was clear enough for work.  I opened the door to a Valentine Tree shining in my yard.  Love that man! I smiled all night at work like I had a private secret. 

I went back in the house to tell him how he made my day and the kids looked shocked that I was making a big deal out of it.  Hope they took some notes.  No it wasn't Valentines day when he did it, love is everyday.  Today I get a hot lovely breakfast. That is love!  I'm full of it!

Hugs to you all.  Lead with your heart and always go back to it when you need an answer.  This one's for YOU!

(pats heart, and points to you)

17 what, you ask?  17 whole years old.  I've been assigned the age of 17 so I'll try and dust the cobwebs off my memory and relive here...no wait a minute, I'll highlight the me that was 17 many many many many years ago.

Can you tell I'm stalling?

Where I lived: I lived in Pleasant Hill, Ca. It's east of San Francisco.  I lived there with My parents and 4 older sisters, all of whom started exiting when I was a teenager (no edits from family please) (I mean it!) so I had several bedrooms over the years. Sort of trading up I suppose.  I moved to the coast that summer after I graduated from high school.

What I drove: Well let's see I started the year in a Chevy truck. The one I drove was blue.  My father had bought it when he got a cab over camper with it and we'd gone to Yosemite the summer before my senior year.  Mom's idea.  My dad took the camper off when he realized that we only used it for that one trip and I think my sister and I filled it with a few friends one time for a crazy trip to the mountains, but after that the truck was for getting around town. I'd take dad to work then off to school, then later pick dad up. I loved that truck!   This was when you could load up all your friends in the back...we had a blast!

Then I got a VW Fastback right before I moved to the coast. Loved that car. Called it the Orange Splat!

What I did: Let's see...I was attending College Park High School in Pleasant Hill, Ca.  I was a senior, singing in Concert Choir, pretending that I liked school, was a homecoming queen candidate from Concert Choir (did not get the crown) but had fun in the dress. I had completed many of my credits for graduation so I enrolled in the outside work experience program and only had school for half a day, then went to my job in children's shoe sales at the local mall. Leeds Shoes.  Loved doing the shoe displays in the huge window of the shop. At the time some of the families of the guys who played for the Oakland Athletics or A's lived in Pleasant Hill, so they'd come in with their kids. Working with children shoes was strange and wonderful. Some times their feet would smell and I'd try not to tear up as I held my breath and offer a clean sock to try the shoe.  I was pelted with popcorn and had ice cream dropped on my head. The moms and dads would always apologize as they laughed.  I soon made friends with the bookkeeper who recommended me for her job when she gave notice so I  became the payroll gal and was very popular with the staff. Everyone loved me on payday.

Who Had My Heart: My heart got around a bit, but hey, I was 17. I was in lust with a mountain climber named Ken Jones. Met him in Yosemite on that trip in the camper. We wrote to each other as he lived in LA and I was in the bay area. He loved me and I didn't know what love was yet. Then Peter Hershelman got a hold of my heart. He was older than me by a year, and soon he went away to be a pilot. He did send me a letter asking me to come join him, but I wasn't ready for that either.  I actually met The King, my husband when I was 17. I had dreamed him, so when I saw him at a party I was shocked to see my dream standing in the kitchen.  The rest is history or a book. (smiles at The King as he looks rather suspiciously at me from the couch) Whahahaha cough cough.

What I do: I live in the middle of each moment as much as I can.  Where I am is where I want to be or you won't see me there. I'll be the one who'll help you put the kitchen back in order over fabulous conversation, help you move out of a seven bedroom home and not need therapy, laugh my head off at the silliest things, make up a song to express a feeling, dance across a room to my telephone ring tone so I can go outside to talk. I love my family with all my heart. Three children that have come with their own set of lessons to learn. The King and I believe we are assigned as their guides. We parent pretty well.  I sing with my trio ~ Side Effects ~, I love to create and express myself in the garden, on paper, with art, in conversation, through harmony. I have found that from 17 to 53 is a small window that's full of shiny panes and in each experience it brought me closer to me. Learning isn't a chore when it's about yourself. I ask myself and others (brave friends like you) to let life show us the way. Question your actions, ask yourself the hard questions, cry in the shower then get out there and SHINE! That's what I do.

Who Has My Heart: He got it years ago when I dreamed him. We've grown up together and at times we've struggled to hold on together.  We've woken up from shared dreams, he's been there at all three of the baby births, right there telling me to go to my source, he can be moved to tears, we love baseball, music and art. He loves my garden. HE COOKS! HE COOKS! HE COOKS! VERY WELL!  I Love you BABE! He won't let me post his face, so...

 Thanks for the trip down "17 mile running from life only to find it along the way" memories @saintvi

(pats heart, and points to you)

Step right up, folks! Get your fear resistant wand! One wave of the wand over a fearful situation and the fear will vanish!

"I'm afraid it won't work. Can you guarantee it?"

"Do I get my money back if my fear doesn't vanish instantly?"

"I'm too busy holding on to my fears. No hands to hold the wand! Do you have a pill I can swallow instead?"

"Does it work on man eating monsters/bosses?"

All good questions!  Thanks for asking.

When I was a young girl I could be scared easily.  I had a huge imagination and a sister who could jump out at any moment from the back of our closet from our shared bedroom. She could do this time after time and still scare me. I learned how to payback from the same closet, but she was much better at it. (yes, Bear..good times) I was the youngest of a big family and my sisters left home one by one. I was afraid they'd never come back the same. They didn't. They grew up. I think I was also afraid to grow up myself.  It was going to change everything.

I suppose fear and change spend a lot of time together.

"Hey Fear! We always end up in the same place."

"Oh, hey Change! How's it goin'?"

"I'm still working the peeps, keeping them on their toes, Change. How about you?"

"Me too, Fear. Business is good! Last week was a record breaker with weather, politics, and the flu."

"I hear ya, Change. That virus going around had people right where I wanted them. SCARED!"

And on and on it goes.

A few weeks ago, I was conducting a PTO (Parent Teacher Organization) meeting and many parents were there to express their fears regarding the Sandy Hook shootings. As I listened to these fine people, I could tell that fear and change were at work and I completely understood the grip it had on them.  I remember holding my baby in my arms on the morning of 9/11 and thinking where do we hide from all this terror? Over the course of discussion about how the school district was going to handle "crazy people" who could get on campus, the Principal reassured them that new safety procedures had been put in place.  This didn't ease their minds. How could it? They wanted guarantees that we couldn't give. One of the parents was visible frightened and I noticed that she was biting her nails and looking wide eyed. She's a fantastic young woman, but this had hit her hard and I knew she felt helpless.  How do I help her find strength in herself, I asked myself. 

I then shared that no matter what precautions we put into place, it was important that each of us find a feeling of empowerment in ourselves and if that meant that any parent wanted to hang around at the school, in the classroom, on the playground that they should do it so that they could get a better "feel" of the school. "Look people in the eye as you pass by, say good morning to that stranger you don't know here, so you can get a finger on the pulse of the school."  If someone is acting strange, check in at the office and ask questions.  I also shared that since my children were very young, my husband, The King and I have told them that we were always in their hearts, and that no matter what happens, they can make it through any situation. Then when fearful things occur, your child might be the one who steps forward to calm another.  I watched the eyes of these people I was speaking to and they did soften a bit. I think they took back their role of continuing to be a good parent. Maybe a few of them assumed the responsibility at that moment.  We are not powerless unless we decide we are in a given situation.

We all have a role to play with fear. The years have taught me that I have no control over many things, but I do have me, myself and I who has decided that fear will not run my day. I am very aware of my surroundings and will even have conversations with folks that I'm not sure of their intentions in order to assess a situation just to calm myself.  One of my favorite quotes is "What would you do if you weren't afraid? Do that!"  It has pushed me to walk through my fears and changes with a more calming attitude.

I woke up this morning not feeling a bit afraid, yet this is what called to me to write about.  Must be someone out there who needed to hear it.

(pats heart, and points to you)

We have... Don't put fear in charge of it.

We have a door that takes in the moisture of a rainy day. If we have several days in a row it swells and sticks and you have to put effort into getting it opened and closed.  We have learned to give it a knock with the side of the fist in just the right spot and it gives way most of the time.

Now if you happen to be in a hurry, you might grab at the door handle first and the door will resist and pull you back.  This door which I call the "venting door" has been called many names and has suffer a few kicks from younger muscles that it resisted to frustration. When I watched the door winning against Miss T's mini muscles, the dance she and the door did reminded me the of the elevator dancing that Mary Tyler Moore and Carol Burnett did in Thoroughly Modern Millie. Remember how the elevator didn't work unless you danced? Even when they were in a hurrry they had to do the dance.

These pictures might be small, but you get the point, right? If you haven't seen the movie, find it and enjoy the dance. I know the dance is viewable on YouTube.

Miss T's actions were sort of the anti dance. Stomp, kick, swing, beat, curse, pull, curse, open, slam shut!  I have done the anti dance myself when I was in a hurry and the door said "no way kid, your not getting out without a dance."  As soon as I let it hit my funny bone, my attitude shifted about the cursed swollen door and now I flat fist, step back, breathe deep and pull. Ah! Sweet opening success.

Life's door has some resistance at times.  Beating the door won't get it open.  A direct action with a positive attitude helps the job done.

Spring's warmth will fix the swollen door.  Warmth from inside yourself will change almost any situation.

Got to go. The door and the day are calling to me. Enjoy your dance of life, and don't let the times when you have to add new things to the dance get you down.

(pats heart, and points to you)

That means Deep Sea Rescue Vehicle. Have you seen one of them? I had not.  Morro Bay, California is a bird sanctuary. One of the largest in the USA.  The first picture has Morro Rock, where over 400 species of bird have been spotted.  That was what I was taking the picture of when I saw the strange vehicle in front.  What the hecktor is that?

Then I got closer. 

I wanted to get closer, but my camera battery died just as I took this shot, and the screen went blank. I was thrilled when I charged it up and found that the picture showed up.

Remember Hunt for Red October? Loved that movie.  This was the type of vehicle that they came down in to save the guys left on Red October. We called it our sleepy nautical movie, because the underwater sounds and maybe the pinging of the sonar would put The King and I to sleep if we'd put it on at night. Try as we would to get all the way through it after the first time, we'd laugh when we woke up to the credits rolling.

Anyway...Make it a great day.  It's yours.

(pats heart, and points to you)