“We find these joys to be self evident: That all children are created whole, endowed with innate intelligence, with dignity and wonder, worthy of respect. The embodiment of life, liberty and happiness, children are original blessings, here to learn their own song. Every girl and boy is entitled to love, to dream and belong to a loving “village.” And to pursue a life of purpose.

Quote For The Day 10-6-2015

“When we are children, we have a tranquil acceptance of mystery which is driven out of us later on, by curiosity and education and experience. But it is possible to find one’s way back…Children are not different animals. They are us, not yet wearing our heavy jacket of time.”

Quote For The Day 8-18-2015

“Fairy tales are about trouble, about getting into and out of it, and trouble seems to be a necessary stage on the route to becoming. All the magic and glass mountains and pearls the size of houses and princesses beautiful as the day and talking birds and part-time serpents are distractions from the core of most of the stories, the struggle to survive against adversaries, to find your place in the world, and to come into your own.”

Quote For The Day 8-19-2015

“Fear isn’t so difficult to understand. After all, weren’t we all frightened as children? Nothing has changed since Little Red Riding Hood faced the big bad wolf. What frightens us today is exactly the same sort of thing that frightened us yesterday. It’s just a different wolf. This fright complex is rooted in every individual.”

Life Through The Window

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Through the Window.”

Today, when I look out the window, I see the busy hive of a major hospital; cars coming and going, ambulances in and out, people walking every way possible, buses picking up and dropping off employees.  The cycle of life in the coming and going of cars and people and lives.

My life is divided by windows.  My bedroom window remains open regardless of heat, cold, rain, snow, thunder or alien raiders.  My cat, Meville, demands it and, spoiled as she is not, the window stays open. When I come home she wants me to come to the window and look outside with her, all the while telling me about her day.  The birds, the bugs, everything she saw.

Looking at the window, I see the flowering Lantana in my north garden, the best fifty cents I ever spent. Apparently, my Lantana loves it’s home because every year it comes back like gangbusters, thick with flowers, bees and butterflies.

I see my Aunt’s house from the window.  She’s eighty-three and still lives alone, drives, whatever she needs to do.  And yet, the signs are growing. Things are harder, sometimes each day. Harder brings depression, loss. Endings.

I am at my childhood home, sometimes in those long years of high school. I have fallen asleep during the afternoon. When I awake and look out the window, I’m overwhelmed with the feeling I am the last person alive on earth. The world feels empty; everything looks different in the small way that makes one stop and attempt to figure out what, exactly, is different.

Peering out the window at night when I was a child, watching lightening light the sky.  My sister and I called them ‘picture shows’ and we loved kneeling on our beds to watch the fierceness of nature beyond the safety of wood and wire mesh.  The night smells cool and damp, a smell I carry with me through my life.

Staring out the sliding doors of our first – ground floor but half-way below – apartment as the water rises and floods over the brick wall around the patio, the welcome mat carried down the hallway on an ever rising river. Water over our knees as we scramble out the patio door to safety.

Staring out the window at rain-washed shingles as I wait for my first-born, image marking itself in my mind like the signpost to another country.

So many windows dividing one moment of life from another, dividing days into flashes of memories. The cycle of life in the coming and going of people and lives.


Quote For The Day 6-22-2015

“But what are our stories if not the mirrors we hold up to our fears?”
Wally Lamb, I Know This Much Is True