What is it about change that scares us to our core? We’ve been changing since the day we were born and with every breath since. You’d think we’d be use to it. Yet still we resist, with every fibre of our being. We avoid, make excuses, pull the covers over our head & say we’ll deal with it tomorrow. And we never do, at least I don’t. Then something happens & we are forced to stop & rethink everything. I’m not talking about changing our hair style or our job, I mean real change. Sometimes the universe moves & we are forced to change the way we think. Change how we live our lives & the choices we make every day. A change of scenery or wardrobe can feel liberating, they can inflat your sails & send you on your way. But a change at our core can be utterly terrifying. And at times, completely necessary.

Don’t you just hate decisions? The choice between one path or another. The life I have or a brand new way of being full of surprises & unknowns. Do I stay straight, veer right, take a left or maybe back track a mile or two? Every seemingly unimportant decision can change everything…indefinitely. We change with every breath, literally. So how do you choose?

Sometimes a little backtracking can save you in the long run. Sometimes when we are on our way to our dreams we get lost & in the process find a better way, sometimes we even find a better dream.

In fact the ability to start out upon your own impulse is fundamental to the gift of keeping going upon your own terms, not to mention the further & more fulfilling gift of getting started all over again – never resting upon the oars of success or in the doldrums of disappointment…getting started, keeping going, getting started again – in art & in life, it seems to me this is the essential rhythm.
-Seamus Heaney

I love this time of the year. I just love the idea of a clean slate. The chance to get it right this time. No matter how many mistakes, no matter how desperate or ill-conceived the past year may have been, this time I could get it right. Eat better, meditate daily, finish that first chapter…its all right there just waiting for me. It’s a season brimming with new ideas, exploding with possibility.

There’s a hopeful energy surging through everything & everyone. I wake a little earlier & pop out of bed with an ounce more bounce. The mind reels as I think of all the things I could accomplish in 12 whole months.

Its like one big do over.

Now, what to do first?

It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new. But there is no real security in what is no longer meaningful. There is more security in the adventurous and exciting, for in movement there is life, and in change there is power.

-Alan Cohen

* Rude People. You know who you are. There is just no need for you to exist. “Please”, “Thank You”, “Excuse me”, these are not unnecessary, you however are.

* People who talk just to hear themselves speak. Not everything said is interesting or necessary. There really is no need to try & fill up every single piece of empty space with something. Especially when that something is really nothing & just makes me want to smack you.

* Dumb people. I’m not talking about not knowing the square root of Pi. I mean people who lack any common sense whatsoever. People with less think through skills then a piece of dead wood.

* Screaming kids. If you can’t control your ankle biters inside the home, don’t bring them outside the home. There is no need for everyone to have to suffer for your mistakes or lack of parental know how.
* “Have a Happy Period.” Are you kidding me? I just know it was a man that came up with that particular ad gem. And every time I notice it, I happen to be on my “happy” period & inches from homicidal. Which of course relates us back to the dumb people I mentioned earlier.
* Morning people. Just because you feel the need to have a conversation before a cup of coffee doesn’t mean the rest of us do. So zip it, or prepare to be harmed.
I’m sure I have more. But I just can’t be bothered today.

HAVE A HAPPY PERIOD!!!!!

So Christmas is fast approaching & am I ready? Of course not!!! Every year is the same. I start planning in Nov & never get anything done until the week before. I don’t even have all my Christmas cards written. Though, in my defense, I do have a lot of Christmas cards to write (48 to be precise). and I copt out a bit this year & sent e-cards to about another 20, mostly to avoid the hassle of tracking down addresses. So I don’t feel too bad about the cards, I have about half of them sent, (pat on the back). I’ve got to edit that card list next year, really I do, it just keeps getting bigger. Pretty soon I’ll be all year just writing cards. As for gifts, it’ll be January before anyone at home gets my gifts because I don’t even have them in the mail yet. And that’s a shame because a few of them are kinda seasonal. So mom’s not going to get to use her Santa plates until next year. Not to worry, she’ll understand, where do you think I got my procrastinating ways.

Someday, I’ll get it all together. Everyone will get their cards the first week of December & their gifts will all arrive a few days before Christmas, so they can settle in under the tree & the kids can all take their turn shaking them, trying to guess what could be hidden inside. I don’t stress about it. The people who know me know that this is how it is.

But one year, maybe soon, I’ll surprise them. Most likely it’ll just be the one time & none of them should expect it to continue because it more then likely was a total fluke. But just once would be enough for me.

Maybe next year, of course I said that this year, & last year & the year before….

What makes a person stop?



Do they just wake up one morning & think, ‘this is far enough, I refuse to go any further’?
Is it a conscious choice?
Is there doubt?
My brother Michael died 2 years ago yesterday. Truthfully, he didn’t ‘die‘ he killed himself. I haven’t talked about him in those years, not even to my family. I try not to even think about him. I think I might hate him. I don’t want to, but I think I might. And I have no idea how to make that stop.
Sometimes I dream about him. We’re driving in a car, I don’t recognize the scenery but it’s beautiful. I get out of the car to take a photo of a sea view & when I turn around he has driven off without me. He just drives off & leaves me stranded in this place I don’t know.
Sometimes we’re in an old house. There are dozens of people around, I stop to admire a painting on the wall & when I turn around he’s gone. I catch him going down a spiral stair case. I try to follow him but I can’t catch up. The stairs seem to descend forever, there’s just no end to them. An old woman tells me not to bother. She tells me I’ll never catch him where he’s going. Whenever I have this dream I always wake up crying. I had it a few times before I could remember it well enough to get why I was crying. I get it now.
I never mention him to my family. They all rushed home for the funeral, had him buried on church ground, next to dad.
I’ve studied suicide. I’m more than familiar with all the psychological reasoning. I know all the theories of depression, chemical imbalances, psychotic breaks, & on & on & on. None of it matters. The truth is he quit the game half way through & left the rest of us holding the cards.
I’ve never been one to hold a grudge. I know better than some the freedom you can find in forgiveness. But sometimes when a grudge is all you have, its just all you have. And there’s no resolution to be found if you ask me. You can’t argue with the wind.

Yes it’s so true. I broke down. I’m weak. 7 months without one cup of joe & now 5 cups in the last 2 days. I just needed it O.K!!! I know caffeine is the devil but it keeps me awake & stops me from harming others & I don’t think that’s such a bad thing really. I have come to the conclusion that coffee is just a necessary evil. I’ve made peace with my weakness. 3 cheers Juan Valdez!

WHAT WOULD YOU ATTEMPT TO DO IF YOU KNEW YOU COULD NOT FAIL????

I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately. What would I do? I think I’d move to Paris. I’d wear floral prints & silk scarves. I would write a novel & learn to sculpt. I’d e-mail the person I miss & who’s been on my mind all week. And I would tell him that I miss him. No expectations, just so he’d know he was missed. I’d make a list of things I want to say to people. Then I’d call each one & tell them. My voice wouldn’t shake or hesitate, I’d just tell the truth.

That’s it you know, the truth, that’s what we’re all really afraid of. It’s definitely what keeps me awake at night. Afraid to speak it, afraid to face it, afraid to live it. What if we were disappointed? Or worse, what if we disappointed others? What if they laughed? What if they thought our pain or our profound truth was funny? What would happen if we leaped, into the unknown, & fell flat on our face?

Truthfully, we’d probably get up & start over. We’d survive, a little battered & maybe a little wiser. But honestly, it most likely wouldn’t be the end of the world. And the thought that it could possibly mean the end of all things, is just slightly conceded.

So , why then don’t we do the things we want to do? Why are we chained down by fear?

Why am I not in a cafe in Paris writing the next great novel?

It’s the leap, not the fall that’s really scaring. But the fool must leap. Or except a half hearted life.

“The Stones Tell The Story”…I think that will be the title of my first novel.

Cactus! That’s what I dream about this time of the year. -33 degrees Celsius, 2 feet of snow during the night & I dream of cactus. Not Christmas trees or mistletoe, succulents.
Christmas is a great time of the year. I love the decorations, the gift wrapping, hunting all day for that perfect something. I really do love it. At least I used. I’m trying to get the old feelings back, I’m trying hard. But too often now I get preoccupied. Now, the end of the year is a struggle for me. I get overcome with memories & emotions that I successfully keep in check the rest of the year. My dreams become chaotic, when I sleep at all. I find the ends of my mouth heavy & I look at my feet a lot. This is the time of the year when I lost the thing I didn’t really know I had. My friend. My only true ally.
My father was not in any way a perfect specimen on which to judge mankind. He was eternally flawed, no one would argue. He complained too much & drank too often. He also invented porcupine kisses & read encyclopedias as if they were novels.
Its been 5 years now without him. And I can still smell him. A mixture of his cologne & apple chewing tobacco. Not exactly Chanel, but when it hits me I am suddenly comforted, no matter where I am or what I’m doing. Odd, I know.

Christmas was never his season, he was a Spring man. That was when he could stop wearing so many layers, when the walk to get to his weekly card game was not a frozen trek & all of the plans he’d been devising all winter for his prized vegetable garden could start to come to fruition. Spring was his season.
Summer had its perks but Spring was were it all began. I’ve always been an Autumn girl. Opposites even in seasons.
Oddly, the thing I miss most are the arguments. I don’t fight with anyone the way I fought with him. There was an abandon there that I’ve found with no one else. I was never afraid of offending or going too far. I trusted that he would never get angry, the argument would never turn personal & when it was over, it was as good as forgotten. No grudges were held or stern silences kept. And they always ended the same way, with a cup of tea.
Sometimes I pretend that it never happened. That I miss him only because he is at home & I am not. I pretend that it is geography that separates us. My fantasy never lasts very long, I always remember. Even so I cherish my brief delusional moments.
The thing that invades my dreams. The thing that makes it impossible for me to sleep at all. Is the not knowing. Other people can tell me. I’ve read the books. I can tell myself. But I will never really know if he knew how much I loved him. I will never really know if he knew how grateful I was to him. Because being the self absorbed person that I can tend to be, I never said ‘thank you’.

Making peace with a ghost is no easy task. And I know I may never find the stillness I seek. But in searching for it I do seem to have found a slightly better understanding of a man I thought I knew. And a deeper appreciation for the people still near me. Anniversaries come every year whether I want them to or not. They never seem to get easier. I don’t know that they ever will. But I got through this one without crawling into a fetal position & ugly crying. That’s progress. It’s not peace. But its something.

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there.
I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there.
I did not die.

-Mary E. Frye