Don’t even get me started…..
I got off track somewhere… so this is yesterday’s Question o’ the Day:
What is the view outside your window?
via Q.O.D 3-26-18
Thanks for answering! Crocus’ make things beautiful.
Feel free to join in and respond to the prompt. Please try to keep your response under 300 word (recommended, not law). I will re-blog your post to my site.
pix by csk2018
He stood, staring at the wreath she’d made in her last year, telling him she wanted him to hang it every Easter to remind him that she wasn’t gone forever, just an extended vacation.
She was funny like that.
And he missed the hell out of her. The house was silent now. No more of her rock-and-roll shaking the shutters. No more watching her dance around the houses as she dusted or vacuumed or did any of the million other things which made up her day.
He should have stayed home more. Spent more time with her instead of racing for the next promotion, the next ladder, the next step up in the eyes of the world. The Jones had nothing he wanted now.
He should have known that now isn’t forever.
Now was just an instant, a fraction of a second; blink and you miss it. How many nows had he missed in his life? Millions? How many of her nows had he missed?
There was knock at the door. Through the shaded glass panes he made out the dark of a form, but today was not a day for being social. Today, like ever Good Friday since she’d gone, he’d spent alone. Locked in this rambling house that she’d loved, refusing to move even when he wanted to live in a more upscale section of town.
She’d told him he was free to move, but she wasn’t going.
Neither had he. Now, he wouldn’t give up the house for anything.
There was another knock and then the form moved away, silent on a wooden porch which creaked and moaned for just about anybody. But never the Easter visitor.
Slowly, he walked to the front door, turning the lock slowly, letting the door swing inward. He smelled them before he saw them, the strong odor filling the air.
Every Good Friday since she’d gone, a stranger put lilies at the door. He never answered the knock. Who was it? Why did they do it?
He didn’t know. Didn’t care. Somehow, he knew they were from her. Her favorite flowers. From her vacation.
Every year, they made him smile. Every year they gave him the strength to go on. One step forward, a million nows, until their final vacation. Together.
I have read the above about ten times, letting a little more meaning seep in every time. We control the direction and meaning of our lives. In other words, we think our lives into reality, but only if we slow the hectic pace of life so our thoughts can construct the reality for which we wish. No, not wish. Know. We have to know that is what we want. Wishing is just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
I know some of you won’t agree with me, but I am talking from experience. If we think “I’ll be happy when I…. reach this goal, make this much money, own this kind of car,” we defeat ourselves. Happiness just is. It doesn’t come in the form of cars or houses or money. If you are waiting to get something or somewhere in order to be happy, you will never be happy.
So much of the time, we live our lives in the extra-fast lane. Jobs, home, kids, a million things to eat away at the space we need to create our lives. We think if life could just be slower, we would be happier. Not so, I am sorry to say.
It is not the slowness of life which makes one happy, but it is the time we have to think about our lives, grateful about what we have, and positive about what we really want in our lives.
I went through a phrase in my life where I lived in the positive and everything fell into place. Parking spots near where I needed to be, raffles won, car problems turning out to need just the turn of a screw or something as easy as that. I also had the ability to plan my life day-to-day, finding that working at a job and working at home with two kids, was easy.
I have, as you might guess from my posts, lost that positiveness. Most of it because of the failure of my marriage and the depression and depth of my despair before I managed to tell him to get out.
I lost it, yes, but I am actively searching for it again. It is coming back as I take the time to breath and to imagine my life. I have found that if there is something I want, something that I know for absolutely positive will come to me, it does.
So, if you are caught in the whirlwind of modern life, slow down. Breathe. Think. Imagine. It is amazing how wonderful life can be!
Please feel free to answer these questions on your blog or in the responses. If you leave me a link to your post, I will re-post it on my blog. You can also feel free to forward these questions to anybody who might be interested. Thank you to those who have already shared their thoughts.
What is your preferred method of communication?
Let me start by saying I do not feel the need to be available 24/7/365. If you need me, leave a message or I’ll assume you don’t really need to talk to me.
Truthfully, I have worked on the phone for most of my career and I’m not a phone person. When I had a home phone, I never answered it when I was home, not unless it was an emergency.
My family, however, is the talking-on-the-phone kind. Long conversations on the phone.
Yikes! It is rare that I do more on the phone but say what needs to be said and then goodbye.
Thus, my family always complained they could never reach me. Like I said, leave a message. And, okay, I don’t check the messages regularly so even if you left a message I might not call you back quickly. (Probably not.)
Now that I have a cell phone only, I should check the messages frequently, but I don’t. Not even every day. If I see there is a message, I will look… when I get a chance.
Can you see the theme here?
What can I say? I don’t feel the need to be on call all the time.
That said, the wiser way to contact me is by email (which I always check) or text. I didn’t used to be a texter, but I am much better now. I might not get to the email or text immediately, but I’ll at least see it.
I’d have to say my favorite method of communication is email.