Are you a Goose?

Funny title, no? Well, let me explain how I came to ask myself that very question today.

I find it's easiest to clear my mind with a nice long (okay, maybe not so long! ;o) run and some fun, easy music on shuffle. Today was my first day in a very long time hitting the trail outside for a bit, and so I was able to run along a beautiful stream in my area. I didn't even worry about the speed of my run - as it wouldn't have been very impressive anyway - and lost myself in the beauty of nature along the stream. The trees are blossoming beautifully, and the sun finally decided to show its face today. Plus, one of the things that I love about this area is the Canadian geese, which I had never seen "up close and personal" until I moved here to the D.C. area, so I enjoyed watching them in the water.

Along my path, I could see several places in the stream where there were obstructions such as rock outcroppings or man-made dams. The first one I saw made me think of the geese in the water. They were swimming along placidly, seemingly enjoying the day as much as I was. I couldn't help but wonder how they would handle the obstactle just ahead of them in the stream. Not too much further along, I saw the second obstruction, and got the answer to my question. A goose gracefully stepped out of the water and merely walked across the dam, to plop himself back into the water on the other side.

With nothing to do but think and jam to "Kung-fu Fighting" (I have no shame!), as I had a quarter-mile until my turnaround marker, my mind somehow managed to wander all the way to the point where I was wondering about the fish in the water. What would they do when they reached that same obstacle that the the goose just blithely stepped over? Well, the logical mind must of course assume that that the fish would turn around at that point and go back.

Hmmm, makes me consider my place in life. Am I a fish or am I a goose? Well, I am a goose (you silly goose!) now, but there were times when I turned around at the obstacles. Now, when my stream is blocked, I walk over the obstacle, albeit without quite as much grace as the Canadian geese demonstrated today.

And you? What have you done with your obstacles? Are you a fish who turns around in search of another route or a goose who makes your own?

Where is your smile?

Some smiles touch only your lips... you know the ones. You can see that the eyes are somewhere else.... the mind is wandering, and perhaps the soul is not smiling at all. Inside, you just don't know if there is a smile - or maybe tears. Some smiles reach your eyes... laugh lines crinkle the corners and everyone who cares to look can see that light shining forth. Those are good smiles, ones that invite others to smile with you. There are smiles, though, that come straight from your heart and light your entire being. Your lips, your eyes, your entire aura -all caught up in the moment of pure emotion. When was the last time you had a smile like that?

What makes you happy?

Really. Have you ever given that any thought? How high have you set that bar? Does it take riches? "True love"? A "perfect" day at work? What exactly "blows your skirt up" (in the immortal words of my Nana!)...? Maybe you don't really know. Maybe you have never really BEEN happy, so you don't know what to look for. Or maybe - just maybe - you are like me... and you find your happiness in the smallest things... I actually got a little buzz a few days ago simply because I found myself on the very last seat of the very last car on the train. Weird? Well, I just thought it was cool to be able to look out the back window of the train for the first time. When I first arrived in the D.C. area, I went roaming around pretty aimlessy and wound up smack in front of the White House... THE White House! I felt a little surge of happiness, accidently sitting there and gazing upon the "seat of power" as it were... Yesterday, I was speaking to my son via Skype and the connection froze for what seemed like the zillionth time. Ordinarily, that would be really annoying, except for the fact that the screen froze my son's image in an angelic smile that reminded me yet again that he is my reason for living. That made me happy.... There is a fast food commercial that has a line where a lady is thinking "Go, go Katie, go, go, Katie" and finds herself saying it out loud... I'm always happy when I hear that commercial, because I have a good friend named Katie and I can just picture her doing something silly like that. I know some people might think my definitions (and there are many) of happiness don't quite "measure up", but maybe that means those people have set their bar too high.... as for me, I'm going to go snuggle in my nice comfy chair (called "the cuddler" at the store... I am NOT kidding!!) with my nice comfy kitty (she was my "first baby", after all!) and enjoy another moment of MY definition of happiness!

Hello, my name is... and I am...

an alcoholic, a sex addict, a compulsive gambler, an attention whore - you name it, we've been addicted to it. When you get right down to the basest elements of addictions, though, you can call us all by the same name: Seekers. We are all seeking to find something, an elusive "something" that always seems soooo close that we can sense it, almost see it, sometimes almost taste or smell it, but we never quite get a grasp of it. My particular claim to shame really doesn't matter much, not in the long run. There are no "good" addictions, no "addict light" brand that is better than the full-octane one. Any addiction that grips you, no matter even if there aren't side effects that are visibly detrimental, is an addiction all the same, and can cloud the mind and your judgement. For instance, being addicted to working out at the gym... that CAN'T be a bad thing, right??? Well, what if you are so addicted to that rush you feel after a good workout that you get really annoyed when you can't make it to the gym and you begin to snap at your coworkers, friends, or even loved ones? (Sounds an awful lot like someone who didn't make it to the coffee pot yet also, doesn't it???) The point is that anything can control you, if you allow it. There is a wonderful "flip-side" to that coin, however. Control is almost always a two-way relationship. If you are allowing a substance, person, emotion (GUILT, for example), or flavor of ice cream to control you, it is your CHOICE to do so and you may then choose to take that control back. Granted, it is not entirely that simple, and there are many steps you must take to completely restore yourself, but first you must make that choice.

Bi-Polar Roller Coaster

The human capacity for emotion is astounding. I am constantly amazed by the heights to which the heart can soar and depths to which it may fall. There are moments of pain so intense and piercing that they can bring you to your knees instantly. These are the moments such as when I miss my son so much that the sight of every child - boy or girl, regardless of age or circumstance - makes my heart ache to the very core of my being. Moments like when I sit and reminisce about a friend who left my life too soon, and another who left this earth too soon. Tears can burn as they fall, but they are cleansing as well. On the other end of the spectrum, there are uplifting moments of happiness almost too bright to endure. These are the moments spent basking in the beauty of my son's smile. The moments of the pure indulgence of simply lying on a warm beach in the sun listening to the waves. The time lost in memories of travels to places I never thought I'd see (Paris, Rome, London, and more) and places I want to see again (the snow-capped mountains of the German Alps, a small lake-side village in Switzerland, the roads that lead me back to my childhood home....). I am reminded again and again - I might even say daily - what a creation man is... the human heart with it's capacity for feeling, the mind with the intelligence to learn miraculous things, and the soul -- with the God-given the gift of choice -- that makes it all worthwhile.

Crossing Paths

Those of us in the military (and other 'globe-trotting' career fields) know better than most how truly small the world can seem at times. In my years of military service, I have lived in three U.S. states and three foreign countries (I was lucky enough to 'hit' Germany twice!), and so one might think that would make my view of the world much broader. Oddly enough, it has only made the world seem smaller. In my first tour in Germany, I lived about twenty miles away from a town called Baumholder, where there was a larger Army base with all the standard facilities. I was at the base clinic in Baumholder one morning during the winter of 90-91 and heard someone call my name. I looked up to see a young man I grew up with and whose prom I had just attended that past spring! I had not even known he was active duty military, much less stationed within a half-hour's drive of me. Many years later (seemingly a lifetime later!), I moved from the Netherlands BACK to Germany, and after about a year my husband and I hosted his god-daughter for a nice visit in which we took her to Bavaria (our standard vacation spot). Walking down the stairs in the Hofbrauhaus in Munich (about a five-hour drive from our home, and around a nine-hour drive from our previous home in the Netherlands), we 'bumped into' one of my husband's former Soldiers from the unit in the Netherlands with his family. Even the smallest of coincidences seem to shrink my world. Here in the greater D.C. area, so many people travel on the metro that it is often literally 'standing room only' on the evening commute, and yet I have on four separate occasions either shared a train or waited on the platform with someone that I knew, quite by coincidence. Modern technology does it's part in this incredible phenomena as well. I recently got a facebook account, and three days later a friend I hadn't heard from in nearly ten years just 'happened' to pop my name into the search and then send me an email. All this, and yet I have lived in this apartment for seven months, and have seen my next-door neighbor exactly once. What interesting times....

I am still me...

Okay, I know.... that statement would usually generate a reply of "DUH!", but stop and think about it... Who are you really? As humans generally (and women specifically), we always seem to be "trying to be" someone. As a child, I tried to be the daughter that I thought my parents wanted. I also spent most of my childhood wishing I were more than "just me": the pretty girl, the more popular kid, that athlete that was always graceful, the "super-smart" girl who was Valedictorian. In my own eyes, I never quite measured up when I compared myself to others. When faced with each of the decisions I have encountered in my life (joining the military, whether to marry at 20, and consequentially whether to divorce at 24, and so on), I tried to be an adult who could make up my own mind and choose my own path. Every decision, however, was in part driven by a desire to be "someone" in particular, usually a "someone" that I thought others expected me to be. In every single period of my life, I can pinpoint the place where I changed my image of who I wanted to be. Here, I wanted to be a better Soldier, there I was trying to be athletic (HA! lol!), for a while all I wanted to be was a college graduate, at one point I ran myself ragged trying to be the perfect wife, mother, student AND Soldier... how's THAT for wearing too many hats? This past year, for some reason (at the "ripe old age" of 36), I have come to a life-altering conclusion... regardless of what ideal I strive to achieve, what person's image I try to emulate, and what changes I undergo (or, more to the point, "attempt" to undergo) to 'be someone', I am still, and always will be... ME! I lost this fact for a while, and felt like an entirely different person, looking into my life from outside. Part of this blinding flash came from a book that I am reading about women struggling with difficult issues. Forgive me for sounding a bit "preachy" here, but this struck me as a point that should have been SO obvious, but - for me, anyway - was not for a long time. The author of the book is illustrating a point by describing an interchange between him and his daughter, and at the end of it, he states "But also like Laura, your Father will go with you down either path you choose. I actually didn't care which path Laura chose, because I knew that I could teach her and improve her character no matter which way she ran." Wow! Regardless of the mistakes in my life (and there have been plenty!), and the choices - both bad ones and good - that I have made, I am still me, and I have a life of which I can be proud. Sure, there are elements of it that I would not want broadcast on nation-wide TV, but we all have those. I no longer see those as the larger part of the whole. I simply see them as small pieces that make up the grand picture, and that picture looks much brighter and happier now that I know how to view it.

Homage to Mr. Paul Harvey

I have never had what I consider to be a very good memory. I have trouble with names (but never forget a face, which is awkward when there is no name to put with it...), and always have difficulty in classes that require a lot of memorization. There are, however, some things that never fail to trigger memories in even my hazy, swiss-cheesy brain (don't bother looking that one up, either ... I hold the trademark on it!). For example, any time I smell honeysuckle, I am instantly 9 or 10 years old, and standing beside a tall embankment covered with the sweet, nectar-filled blossoms (after shredding my legs struggling through the large lot filled with blackberry bushes... and all their thorns!). The smell of plumeria brings me the feeling of the sun on my skin and the natural beauty of the island of Barbados, the only place that I've ever seen that flower. And the curve of any child's cheek that I happen to see will bring my son's face to mind. And, any time I hear the smooth voice of Paul Harvey, I am transported back to mornings as a child when Paul Harvey was on the radio right about the time I sat down to my oatmeal, or Fruit Loops, or whatever my sugary "upper" was that day. Everywhere I have ever lived (thus far, that includes six states and three foreign countries), I have at some point been able to listen to Paul Harvey (God bless Armed Forces Radio and Television!). His stories were always interesting, even if only because they brought a piece of home to me wherever I happened to be. Occasionally, he was able to tell a story so well that it brought tears to my eyes, even though I'm relatively sure that none of them were ever more than five minutes long. Also, there were many times that I would say, "Hmm, I never knew that." In more than thirty years of hearing Mr. Harvey's voice, though, I do not recall ever hearing him sound angry, and he never said an unkind word, or swore, or told an off-color joke, or used any epithets or racial slurs in his broadcasts. In today's entertainment world, that is more than an accomplishment... it is practically a miracle! I always thought of Mr. Harvey as a kind and decent man, and he always reminded me a little bit of my grandfather, the man I held in the highest esteem of all in my life. And so it is that today, when I saw the news that Mr. Harvey passed away yesterday, I cried. Only two other times in my life has the passing of a public figure moved me to tears. The other two were Princess Diana and Princess Grace. Neither of the other two had touched my lives in the way that Mr. Harvey has, but the loss of their beauty and (I apologize for the seeming pun) grace simply was a tragedy in both cases. In Mr. Harvey's case, he was not as glamorous, maybe not as well-known world-wide, but his persona was always just so honest, open and caring that I felt like I had found a long-distance friend. I truly hope that Mr. Harvey's family has peace today in knowing that he touched many lives during his 90 years and that he is missed by so many people and that - in some small way - we all share a piece of their pain. May God bless his family, and may He guide Mr. Paul Harvey, Jr., hopefully to continue on his path.

Is there a 12-step program for Facebook addicts??

Several of my friends have told me that I should "make the switch" to Facebook, but I had never even checked it out until this weekend. Needing a break from my studies, I decided to spend the weekend in Miami with some of my dearest friends. (The irony is NOT lost on me... my "studies" = Spanish class and Miami = ALL Spanish, ALL the time!!!) Well, it turns out that - of course - my friend just happened to have a facebook account, and she showed me how she had connected to so many "long lost friends" with it. I figured it couldn't hurt to set up an account, just to check it out.... right? Funny how even writing that made the eerie music ring in my ears again! ;o) Even though I hadn't seen these friends in almost two years, the fascination with getting 'friend requests' and having my friend requests accepted was very much interfering with our reunion! On the bright side, the gambling, whiskey, ciggies and porn have just become sooooo much less important to me!!!! ;o)