Quote Tuesday

An L.A. Church

About commitment:

“Unless one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative [or creation] there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, the providence moves too.

All sorts of things occur to help one that would otherwise never have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favor all manner of incidents and meetings and material assistance which no man would have believed would come his way.” ~W.H. Murray, “The Scottish Himalayan Expedition

Blessings, Lydia

A Photo From The Past

P1000194

I LOVE this photograph, especially the beautiful blue light emanating from the corner lamp. The photograph is of a room in my home that became “my space.” It is the place where I could walk through the door, and almost instantaneously, I was transported to my own private sanctuary. In it, the concerns or worries of the day would dissipate and my mind could rest from the endless parade of thoughts that typically plague me. The room became my reading room, yoga studio, meditation cushion, and more. It was a blessing to me– my own slice of heaven.

What about you? Do you have a haven which nurtures you and allows you to simply be? Where is it? I’d love to know.

Blessings, Lydia

A Brief Reflection On Rain

 By Audrey from Central Pennsylvania, USA (A Web Of Raindrops Uploaded by Fæ) [CC-BY-2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

 It’s been a dark and dreary morning, with the sound of a distant storm meandering its’ way in our direction. I wait with anticipation, until finally, it arrives.

With it, comes the comforting sound of raindrops tap, tap, tapping against the window pane. The running water etches a circuitous path downhill, and huge rain puddles are sure to attract the delighted child.

My fried plants are drinking greedily, knowing that, in our drought-stricken area, the life-giving water is a gift. One that cleanses and nourishes all that it touches. Like manna from heaven, it is our salvation.

What I Will Miss When I Die

One of my granddaughters

One of my granddaughters

I have to tell you upfront, that this post arises from this post on the website Wonderings & Wanderings. The question posed in the blog was a line from a Natalie Rosenberg book., “Tell me what you will miss when you die.”  This post answers that question..

It seems right to post this on what would have been my brother’s 46th birthday. I am in my 50’s and the inevitability of my death crosses my mind quite regularly. My kids think it morbid, but it think it reality. I mean, there comes a time when we all die. Although there is much that I would miss, there is nothing more than my children and grandchildren, especially, those firsts in their lives that appear suddenly, pass too quickly  and are forever etched in my heart. Of course, the list depends on when death occurs, so I chose to there are many more pleasures that we enjoy in this life, that are worth noting. My list, although not exhaustive, follows:

  • The sound of wind chimes on a breezy day.
  • The sound of boiling hot water as it pours into a cup for hot tea.
  •  Watching the sun rise from my bed in the morning.
  • The birds chirping at the feeder outside of my bedroom window.
  • The way that freshly washed and starched cotton sheets feel on your skin.
  • The smell of lavender.
  • The smell of tuberoses.
  • A long, hot bubble bath.
  • Singing to the oldies.
  • Dancing to the oldies.
  • The sound of water running in a stream.
  • Watching the deer as they walk through our yard.
  • The dark, inky infinite night-time sky, filled with stars and unmarred by lights.
  • The color purple.
  • The taste of a sweet, juicy watermelon.
  • A deep blue sky.
  • The unexpected rainbow.
  •  The sound of rain on a tin roof.
  • Nerja, Spain
  • A full moon.
  • A meadow filled with wild flowers.
  • The laugh of a child.
  • The excitement brought by a thunder-storm.
  • The pealing of church bells.
  • The birth of a grandchild.
  • The faces of my loved ones and friends.
  • The twinkle in D.’s eyes.
  • Talking to my daughters about anything and everything.
  • The steadfastness of my husband.
  • B. calling me Mee-Mom.
  • All of the “firsts” that come with grandchildren.
  • Lobster.
  • My potato salad.
  • A home cooked meal that I didn’t cook.
  • A genuine smile.
  • The way a smile lights up a face.
  • A full moon.
  • The smell of night-blooming jasmine.
  • The laughter of children playing in the near distance.
  • Driving a convertible with the wind blowing through your hair.
  • Walking along a beach.
  • An apple jolly rancher candy.
  • A banana Now or Later.
  • A Grape Kool-Aid Jammer.
  • The comfort of knowing that my mother is nearby.
  • Baby kittens.
  • A purple, orange and pink sunset.
  • I love yous.
  • The touch of a loved.
  • Books.
  • The smell of Red Flower Lavender candles.
  • Child perfume.
  • My iPhone.
  • Skype.
  • My computers.
  • Playing airplane with your hand outside the car window.
  • Hugging.
  • Kissing.
  • Making love.
  • The smell of freshly baked bread.
  • Family dinner.
  • Mexican food.
  • Chinese food.
  • New Orleans.
  • The sturdiness of a tree.
  • Friendship.
  • A family dinner.
  • A birthday celebration.
  • Candle light.
  • A room lit by moon light.
  • The present moment.
  • Moments of inner peace.
  • A good book.
  • The wonder of music.
  • Singing.
  • Dancing to anything.
  • The joy of giving the perfect present.
  • The joy and appreciation of receiving the perfect present.
  • The ability to change.
  • The ability to forgive.
  • To love.
  • To be loved.
  • The act of forgiveness.
  • To be forgiven.
  • The sounds of ocean waves breaking on land.
  • The desert.
  • The perfect pen.
  • My journals.
  • Purple pens.
  • My brother’s blue, pea coat that came to me after his death.
  • My brother’s watch that came to me after his death.
  • Being a Mom.
  • Being a g’mom.
  • Church.
  • The flutter of curtains as a breeze moves through the window.
  • Watching my children move through life.
  • Watching my grandchildren’s importance life moments.

I realize that I can go on forever, but I’ll stop now. What I know for sure is that when I press “publish,” there will be  numerous things that I wish that I’d added to the list, but it was time to end.

Tell me what you’ll miss when you die. I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Blessings, Lydia