Enjoy the video.
A page from my diary 6-30-09
Thank you each so much for a wonderful birthday! Between the flowers, emails, letters, cards, gifts, and crazy pranks...I couldn't ask for anything else. The friendship that each of you has given me is all that I need. The rest...is icing on the cake.
As each of you have determined by now, I have a unique group of friends from around the world. I am so happy that each of you have embraced one other. We are all different. We all speak different languages. We all have different views on life. Some of us walk a straight line. Some of us walk a narrow path. Some of us walk barefoot. Some of us live on islands. Some of us write. Some of us complain. Some of us just survive. Some of us hold the Holy Book up high while still searching. Some of us find our own way. Some of us live on the wild side. Some of us have been dumped on. Some of us use "bad" words. Some of us dare to be different. Some of remain content. Some of us just don't bother to understand. Some of us garden. Some of us bike. Some of us run. Some of us sing. Some of dance. Ya know...that is just fine with me. You are "my" friends and I love you just the way you are. Me, well I don't exactly fit in one place or another. Each day is different and that is the way I like it. I adapt!
I reflect over the past year and this song just sums up where I am today!
Love to each of you,
Tammy (age still to be determined)
Same as Joe Cocker above. He has also mellowed with age!
Somewhere along the way
I got caught up in the race
I kept spinning and turning
Lost myself, my hope, my faith
We're always wanting
more than what we have
And what I've learned
is all I really need are...
The simple things
That come without a price
The simple things
Like happiness joy and love in my life
I've seen it all from so many sides
And I hope you would agree
The best things in life
Are the simple things
Hey everybody
don't get me wrong
you got to understand
ambition and knowledge
Are the seeds of every woman and man
It's good to work...
work hard and prosper
As long as you take time to find...
The simple things
That come without a price
The simple things
Like happiness joy and love in my life
I've seen it all from so many sides
And I hope you would agree
That the best things in life
Are the simple things
This world moves so fast
Sometimes you got to slow down, down, down
To find out what its all about
We're always wanting more
than what we have
What I've learned,
is what I really need
are
The simple things
That come without a price
The simple things
Like happiness joy and love in my life
I've seen it all from so many sides
And I hope you would agree
The best things in life
Are the simple things
Get out there and find the day!
If I were to leave one thought to my children about living it would be this, "Don't try to finish everything before you start celebrating life."
There is no time in your life that you'll finish everything. We're always in the thick of living. We'll never have enough time to read all the great books we want to read, express all the feelings we have, or complete every project on our to do list. Time always runs out. Having a perfect house for our friends to be invited over, never happens. Having that perfect body before you will spend time with your child at the pool, might come...might not.
Life is always one unfinished masterpiece.
Most of you know that I paint, I love horses, I garden, I just love life...but yet I haven't been given a great hand to play with. So what! I'm no different than anyone else. We all have our burdens to carry but it is all in how we choose to live them.
An artist has to paint, not have painted. A writer has to write, not have written. Our most important achievements are the ones we haven't started. The best projects are never finished. Life is not a race to be won but time to be cherished.
Over the last couple of months I have let go of my everyday pressures and walked away from what I've been trying to accomplish in order to embrace a broader prospective. I have gotten in the habit of celebrating life while I am in the throes of living.
What has this taught me?
Those among us who don't give ourselves the freedom to have pleasure in the active process of each hour are the ones who complain the most about not having enough time. Thus, the quintessential excuse for not getting things done and not enjoying your life.
Play a little, live a little ...celebrating should be a daily habit, not saved up for special events. I have learned the best things in life are free.
The fading daisy in my garden is a gift that I celebrate. Does it remind you that life will soon fade and you missed the celebration?
Thank you everyone for such kind comments. I hope to be online over the weekend to get caught up with my replies. Life was a little busy this week...thank goodness it is Friday.
Enjoy the tune below!
Soundtrack: Prime
Title: Try (Bugge Wesseltoft & Sidsel Endresen)
Do you see happiness when you gaze at this picture? Some might see confusion.
Where are we?
Mitch (age 14) and I have been on an unspoken journey lately. We exchange hugs and a kiss on the cheek, but other than that we have been on a direction of blind nudges. I am in full support of Mitch and his choices that he has been making. I am also in the process of giving him a space to grow...away from me... The dreams I have for him cannot be played out in my living room. The home life that I have given him is geared up to help Mitch thrust himself into manhood.
I truly believe that Mitch has realized this and has finally gained his sense of purpose. He is leading his own charges into his life with his own future in mind. The starts of the journey have been stuttering and ambivalent. Neither of us was prepared for this "expected event" in our lives. Mitchell has accepted and even embraced his role as a boundless adventurer, as well as myself reluctantly embracing the role as one who watches him go.
We are now to a point that for the temporary future, the arduous and unspoken journey is ahead.
What do I see in this picture? A handsome, yet brilliant man, with his arm around one tired mother! A mother that leans into his arms and clings to the hug in which she was just given.
Why is this mother tired? She has just completed a day on the river with this one adventurous son and "tubed" behind a boat until she could barely even climb into the vessel. Wave after wave this mom joyfully accepted the dare on behalf of her son. You see, I'm not tired from being a mom. I'm tired from living in the moment. There is a difference.
True story...this mom can still hang with the best of em'... even if the tube is called Big Bertha.
Oh, this is funny. Many of you emailed to ask if I road Big Bertha? YES...I did. You need to give it a try. Live and let live.
(Posted to "My Pictures" shown above 5-26-09)
Each morning I am up very early. One of my favorite spots in the garden is this little statue that seems to come alive as the morning breaks through the clouds. As I sit and gaze at the statue she takes on a different life as the minutes tick by. This photograph was taken just as the birds began chirping and the world around began to awaken. It was this morning that brought to me this poem.
This Morning
May 26, 2009 -Tammy
This morning I ask why I am here?
Why is the world asleep and I awake?
Why does my heart long for someone to be near?
Is it I that will not let one take?
I see at a distance a blue bird all alone.
Where is her love with whom she should be?
She sits while singing on a cold grey stone.
This morning was meant for she and I to see.
The garden shares a statue made of clay
Of a girl that holds a dove in her hand.
This bird and I miss nothing at this time of the day.
We are each alive and making our stand.
For life will not pass us by, if we stop to see
What others miss and just let fly.
Missing the world and all it is to be;
Happy together this bird and I.
She glances at me and I to her
Unspoken words with nothing to be told.
We are not for certain but we know this for sure.
Life in the morning brings hope for things to unfold.
Night is gone with no need to wish for a lucky star
For these stars are not always what they seem.
For now we will stay just where we are
The sun slowly rising with glory and gleam.
So, this morning I ask why am I here?
Is it to find space for my heart to ache?
Is it the blue bird or statue that stands so near?
No, it is this morning my willing heart does take.
At 3AM this morning Mitchell (my son age 14) walks into my office holding his guitar. He sits down and starts to play the song below. Enough to make a mom cry even if it is not her son singing.
I begin to listen to the music and realize that Mitchell was actually singing to me. Never... since his toddler years have I heard him sing. Of course, I begin to mumble something and suddenly he stops the song.
"Mom, for once would you not talk. I never play for you and I just wanted to you to know that I do notice you working hard to make my life better...please just let me finish."
I never moved. Mitchell doesn't say many words these days but this morning he let his guard down. After the song he walks over to me and kisses me on the forehead.
"Hey mom, I made the varsity football team even as a freshman. Oh, the basketball team too. One more thing, I heard you found out that I was the President of the National Junior Honor Society for our class. I didn't want anyone to know but I guess it came out in the yearbook yesterday. Sorry. Man, that makes me look so stupid. Shh...mom don't make a huge production. Go get some sleep. Shhh.."
I sit in total silence wondering about why this conversation took place at 3 AM? Was it a conversation? I think I was just meant to listen? What does a mom know anyway...
As I round the corner to the kitchen this morning I could hear Mitchell and Dylan fighting over who gets the last of the orange juice.
Mitchell utters, "Mom, what is the problem these days? I wish you would go shopping at 3AM and get some groceries rather than listening to some "stupid" boy play his guitar. One more thing. Change your ring tone on your phone. You aren't that old yet. "
Dylan then proceeds to spill the entire "last" glass of orange juice all over the kitchen floor.
Life is back to normal.
One night. One song. Perfect timing. I was just beginning to question whether all this was worth it. I know it is. Mitchell and his raging hormones have been enough to drive anyone over the edge. 3AM came as a complete shock. A simple reminder such as this is enough to at least get me through the high school days. Four years from now Dylan(8) better come up with a good one.
Until then, I will savor my nights at 3AM.
The more I ponder on my deeper feelings throughout the day, the more I fall back into that place of peaceful knowing to see if what I am doing is what I need to be doing, then the less I feel at the end of the day that I have been squandering time.
I have concluded that perhaps the waste was never in the activities or the experience themselves but in my pulling forth too petty a rationale for doing them.
(Did I just convince myself that it was just fine to redo my blog banner again? Did I just convince myself that it was perfectly safe to say that the dishes can wait? I think so. Did I convince myself that my son can wear a dirty baseball uniform to his next ballgame that begins in 3 hours? I don't think so...not today.)
This morning was no different than any other morning except for the fact that my once cleaned home smelt like a locker room.
The moment I hit the hallway from my bedroom I knew something wasn't right. I headed upstairs to find that the smell was much more intense. Six teens (ages 14-16) had spent the night and each one was peacefully asleep.
I continue to wander around the room, walking over dirty gym shorts, decaying shoes, the lingering smell of too much cologne, and that lasting odor of who "farted" the loudest from the night before.
I walk in the bathroom and what do I see? Total destruction.
Why in the world can't a guy hit the opening of a toilet? Why was it all over the floor, wall, and anything but where it should be? That was it. I got them up with one huge yell. Keep in mind these are all boys that live in the neighborhood. My house is theirs and their house in mine. I knew I had cleaned that toilet for the last time. Slowly they each rise from their warm sleeping conditions and stand up. I point to the bathroom and each knew I meant business.
I hear Dylan (age 8) call from his bathroom, "Mom, please don't let them use my toilet brush." I walk into his room to see him standing over the toilet with a very concerned look on his face. Someone had used his toilet and he was not happy. Poor kid. I did not have a camera but the look on his face was one that I will never forget. (I later doodled a sketch. Why not get crafty in the middle of a pee crises?)
The entire home remained under lock down until each bathroom was clean.
No real purpose to this post except to remind each male to hit the opening and please put the lid down.
Heart to heart.
For some reason I have been spinning a little bit out of control. I am at a crossroads with what I want to do with my life. Mid-life crises...too young. A nervous breakdown...not even near. Happy...yes. Unsettled...yes. Depression...no. Wondering around town taking pictures, working non-stop, not sleeping, ballgames, field trips, field days, accepting that I now have a son that will begin high school next school term, watching the youngest son asleep on the couch awaiting the results of a swine flu test, a dog at my feet wanting a walk, a yard that needs to be mowed, a house that is all tidy and clean, and still...I feel lost.
Maybe this is where a woman goes when she has raised her children and she is beginning the process of letting go. Maybe this is where I should be in life. Maybe this is where I begin to say to myself, "Hey, Tammy...it is your turn." I really don't want to go forward with my life nor do I want to go backwards. I am actually happy just where I am.
My creative side is underused. I love to paint. I love to sew. As you can see, I love to play around with blog banners. I think I have posted six in the past two days. Some very unique for me. You see, I have many things that I have left untouched for a long time.
I was thinking about perceptions which led me to this post. It has often been said that our perceptions are like glasses, once in place, affect and color all we see. That vision, of course, becomes our reality, our truth. It is so important to realize that most of our perceptions were forged in a fire that is now history. A fire that has long grown cold. What happened, happened, it can never be undone. However, there is no need to drag it through each day of our present life. I think my fire has finally become cold and I am lost without a flame.
I don't write a blog about what we should do in life to be happy. I don't write a blog about how to "fix" the past. I do enjoy reading those blogs. I probably wouldn't be writing what I am writing without having read their words. Somebody has to write about everyday living. I guess that somebody is me. Heart to heart is where I plan on staying for a while.
Just my thoughts...
Tammy
Sometimes all you have to do is open a jar. The smell of Noxzema takes me back to conversations with my grandfather. I was in the grocery store just this morning and for some strange reason I had the urge to open a small blue jar.
I went home, pulled out my old diaries, and revisited a conversation I had with my grandfather some 15 years ago. Just like it were yesterday, I was overwhelmed with the flooding thoughts of his explanation of communication. He brought up a quote that he just rattled off the tip of his tongue.
"If I want to communicate with you I must keep you informed of my feelings. It's sometimes my attempt to discover your position before I reveal mine, or it may hide a criticism I don't want to risk stating. If I ask you, "Why don't you say that?" or "Is that what you really think?" I show you a little of what I am feeling. Instead, I put you on the defensive without making it clear what is in me I want you to respond to." - Hugh Prather
On this day, I remember going home with much excitement. I could not wait to write this down in my diary. During this time of my life I had been trying to figure out a way to contact my father. I wanted to speak to a man that I had only seen a handful of times throughout my life. I remember scribbling down my thoughts.
Today I gaze at some of my messages from my diary the week of June 16-24, 1994.
Every girl is a princess. That's a fact.
I can tell my hair is flat and I have those wingy things on the side.
Get a grip. My mind can take me so far away.
I got a new pen today. Oh, I wish I could go sailing. I will have a boat one day.
I want to go walking. It is raining.
I don't like how afraid my hands are to be empty.
I have so many questions.
Someday I better not marry someone like him.
Why am I the one searching for answers?
What difference would it really make?
I get mad at myself for caring so deeply and maintaining all this stuff in me.
Why were you a cheerleader for 7 years when you hated every minute of it?
Then I read this sentence.
Where does everyone else put their sadness?
At this very moment I was once again reminded that when I accepted myself I was taken away from analyzing, doubting, comparing, altering, how I am and who I am. It gives me space to dance and be barefoot (even on an airplane coming back from Seattle) and forgive and write bravely even when it feels scary and awkward. It is who I am.
It is important to share and necessary to live. As tangled and true as it is, I am realizing that I am enough "as is." A work in progress. I have looked at the love that surrounds me...the new love, hidden love, and desired love. My life is so full of color because I have slowly turned my love towards myself.
Sure I have fallen on my face, jumped many obstacles, but in the end...I can always count on pictures, smells, diaries, and just plain living to get me on the right track. Even a jar of Noxzema every once in a while can get those senses going.
Where does everyone put their sadness? They let it go!
As I leave Seattle I wonder exactly why I came. I had a fleeting heart pounding to follow my torn heart which led me to go with my inner feeling...only to puncture it a little more. Friendship...I think to myself.
As I sit on the airplane I gaze around at total strangers all going their own way in life. Each with their own set of dreams, goals, ambitions, desires, and passion for life. Many sit in silence as if they have lost their way. Many with no direction in life. Many defeated. Right now I am writing in the back of a book that was given to me by a total stranger on my journey to Washington. I boarded the plane this morning with no paper, no pen, but emotions going out of control in my head. I could take no more. I borrowed a pen from the man sitting to the left of me. He just ordered a whiskey to drink with his coke.
Three blank pages at the back of the book. That is enough. That is enough to get these thoughts rolling out of my head and written so that I will never forget. Reminders are good. Right?
The man drinking the whiskey is gazing over my shoulder. He only speaks Spanish. I need to write. I don't need to listen to someone unload on me.
Where do I begin. Thoughts of a previous conversation.
You made it.
Yes, I am a little nervous.
Meet you at 4:30 in the lobby.
What are your dreams?
Do you see "him" everyday?
I can see things by the way a person looks at me.
You deserve champagne.
You deserve to be treated....
I have dreams.
My hair is longer than it has ever been.
Compounds.
Lasagna?
Walk in the park?
Pictures?
Look at this view.
Illusions.
Strawberries...
Confusion.
Pain.
Don't be selfish.
Don't be selfish.
Don't be selfish.
Sweater.
Sleep.
Star Trek.
Day 2. Day 3.
I have so much to do.
I gotta go.
Meeting with the boss.
Call you after I feed my nephew.
I will call you for breakfast.
I will call you for lunch.
I will call you.
I am gone to a show.
I just don't know.
Mistake.
Sorry.
Good-bye.
Sweater.Typepad.Cork.Money.
Unsettled.
Loss of a friend.
Day 4.
Maybe I do need to chat with the man sitting next to me.
The man to the left of me sighed before saying, "I'm sorry." "Why are you holding back a tear young lady?" "Here, do you want some whiskey?"
I smile..."No, thank you." I felt the dimples come alive on my face. I was back. I held my own hand as if to give myself a confirmation of some slight handshake.
"Young lady, you are so beautiful to be so sad." "We have 7 hours to talk." "I am 72 years old and I have lived a life beyond any words that you can write." "My...my ... life is something isn't it?"
At this point I could write no more. My emotions had shifted to a once again lecture, lesson, insight from some total stranger on a plane."
"Do you have children?" "What is your name?"
"Tammy," I reply with my head looking down. "Two children." "You?"
"This is not about me," he began, "I feel I need to listen to you."
I notice the man on the right of me turning his head as if he wanted to listen. He had been gazing at my breasts for 45 uncomfortable minutes. At this point I welcomed him into the conversation to divert his attention.
"I bet you have beautiful children with big blue eyes," Gazer softly says. "Boys, right."
"Yes," I noted, shooting a glare that said, "Ask no more questions, please."
We sit in silence. I begin to smile. The thought of returning home makes me happy. The thought of my children giving me a much needed hug is all I wanted. Touch. No questions. Just complete faith in a person that has stopped life for them. My thoughts pondering the very reason I left home to begin with. Why?
ATTENTION PLEASE: WE ARE EXPERIENCING STORMS IN THE AREA. BE PREPARED FOR A ROUGH FLIGHT.
We all knew of the storms that had been predicted for Dallas, Texas. We all knew this was going to be a long flight. I had moved my flight to leave a day earlier because I knew I needed to go home. Storms or not I had to leave Seattle and get back home.
"So, pretty lady I would like to tell you something." "Miss...Miss...can I have another whiskey." "You have dimples. I guess you hear that all of the time?"
Children awaken your own sense of self when you see them hurting, struggling, testing; when you watch their eyes and listen to their hearts. Children are gifts, if we accept them.
-Kathleen Tierney Crilly
Speechless is where this has left me. I cannot believe the comments and emails that have spun up over my admitting to be a nerd. I baked a special batch of cookies to say thank you. If you missed the post just scroll down one. Actually skip the post and just read the comments. (Confession to My College Roommate)
I have over 50+ emails and the comments shown below. Facebook must have been doing something right.
I really don't know what to say. From the bottom of my heart I must admit that this brought tears to my eyes. Where did the time go? So many of you sent me pictures of your families, etc. I would give anything to go back in time just for one day.
Between my cooking, my love life, my night attire, my first drink, my love of the bare feet, my Scotland attraction, my laughter, my passion for math, my cleanliness, etc. I have to say that you did not spare me anything. Please be patient with me. I do plan on responding to each and every one of you.
It is a huge honor to be loved by so many. I will never forget this day. I feel as though it is my birthday. Hint: My birthday is in June.
For the record ... as of right now the voting shows I am NOT a nerd.
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