Monday, July 5, 2010
Thoughts at First Light
I'm thinking this morning about the beauty added to my life every time I've been with family; a son, sisters in law, brothers in law, nieces, nephews and friends. It was a weekend filled with great food and drink, wonderful conversation, golf and laughter; reacquainting, the getting to know each other and the liking. Lives change, age creeps in but it's the good cheer and enjoyment that sends us home with a renewed sense of well being. There is real comfort in the friendship of family. Thanks for a great weekend.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Drumming Circle
Oh, the poetry that comes from prayer. Ah! The prayer that comes from drumming.
Tonight I joined eight others for a drumming circle, brought together by The Women’s Center at our beautiful St. Rose Hospital here in Henderson. We all gathered at a lovely park in the Green Valley area; under a tree, blankets spread across the grass and drums for anyone who did not have their own.
It was my first time.
We closed our eyes and visualized a lake, a forest, maybe a waterfall.
It was warm tonight, not a breeze in the air, but the birds; isn’t it interesting how they know, even without a nudge or a reminder to take the time to just stop and listen, and join in I might add, which was such a compliment to the sound of our drumming.
Each person took a turn starting a new beat and the others would follow. With each beat lasting 10 – 15 minutes, I couldn’t help but think, how blessed am I, to have this one hour, these few minutes to sit under a tree drumming a sound, in total relaxation, in complete kinship with our creator?
Gratitude is what I embraced as my mind seemed to free fall into the arms of something bigger than myself, each vibration creating a rhythm I could put my name on; a cadence all my own.
Although this was my first time, it will not be my last. I now look forward to having my own drum and once again enjoying the ambiance and community of such inspired women.
Tonight I joined eight others for a drumming circle, brought together by The Women’s Center at our beautiful St. Rose Hospital here in Henderson. We all gathered at a lovely park in the Green Valley area; under a tree, blankets spread across the grass and drums for anyone who did not have their own.
It was my first time.
We closed our eyes and visualized a lake, a forest, maybe a waterfall.
It was warm tonight, not a breeze in the air, but the birds; isn’t it interesting how they know, even without a nudge or a reminder to take the time to just stop and listen, and join in I might add, which was such a compliment to the sound of our drumming.
Each person took a turn starting a new beat and the others would follow. With each beat lasting 10 – 15 minutes, I couldn’t help but think, how blessed am I, to have this one hour, these few minutes to sit under a tree drumming a sound, in total relaxation, in complete kinship with our creator?
Gratitude is what I embraced as my mind seemed to free fall into the arms of something bigger than myself, each vibration creating a rhythm I could put my name on; a cadence all my own.
Although this was my first time, it will not be my last. I now look forward to having my own drum and once again enjoying the ambiance and community of such inspired women.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
A New Understanding
I don’t know why, it isn’t his birthday or the anniversary of his death, but his presence just seems to be hovering over me today. May I share him with you? This is what I wrote at the time my Dad passed away.
A New Understanding
Well I have to say over the years, I’ve had times when I’ve been overwhelmed, many times when I’ve been overcome to the point where I have felt like my heart was about to jump out of my chest; sometimes for joy, other times in sadness, but today, as I look around this beautiful church, I think that this is really almost more than my heart can take.
It’s apparent just how many lives dad has touched, not to mention all of your lives that
have impacted ours. Thank you for being here to celebrate dad’s life.
About a year ago, Denny and I went to San Antonio and we had the opportunity to go through the Museum of the 2nd World War in the South Pacific. It was then that I started to understand just what dad had gone through.
I came back home here to Rock Island, just after that to see how he was doing and I was so anxious to tell him about it. The morning after I came back, we were sitting there at the kitchen table and I said
Dad, I want to tell you something. “What’s that?" he said.
I want you to know that I know who you are.
He looked up at me, with suspicious eyes and said. “What are you talking about?”
I proceeded to tell him about the museum, how I had seen all these pictures of the 1st Marine Division fighting in Guadalcanal, Peleliu and Cape Gloucester, men tromping through the rain and mud. I told him that I had listened to the audios and read all the literature they had there on the walls and the tables, and how they had a German Submarine, and the fighter planes right there.
I told him that I know a person doesn’t really know anything, until they’ve gone through it themselves, but I did have a better understanding of what it must have been like for him. I told him how proud I was of him. He was such a patriotic and proud Marine. He was strong then and he was strong at the end of his life.
In the past few years, he faced lots of frustration, with his failing eyesight,
hearing and his loss of energy. He was no longer able to go out and feed his birds, or work in his garage, so he moved out of his house that he had been in for 40+ years. He gave up all of his tools and toys. That wasn’t easy, but he knew he had to do it and he faced it with strength. He enjoyed his apartment until the end and he made a whole new set of friends.
One of the things I remember when we were young is he would whistle when he came in the back door from work at night. We could have been upstairs doing our homework or watching TV, it didn’t matter where we were, what we were doing, we would all come running to greet him.
Supper was always on the table at six and every night, and I mean every night, after he was done eating he would get up, go and put his arms around Mom from the back and say
“Another wonderful meal Bernadine”
He loved Mom, he loved us kids and his grandchildren
He was a proud and very blessed man.
As he continues on in his journey, it certainly is bittersweet. I don’t want to let him go, but I will because he has so much to look forward to. I’m sure Lindsay will be the one who opens the door as he enters and Mom will be standing right there next to her with open arms. I’m sure he’ll smell pumpkin bread baking, and the table will be set for a feast that we can only imagine.
I want to close with just 2 lines from a beautiful poem.
This is what Rumi says:
“A baby bird stands on the edge of a nest all day, then hears a whistle, come to me. How could he not fly toward that?”
Dad, Go and enjoy!
Everything is waiting for you.
A New Understanding
Well I have to say over the years, I’ve had times when I’ve been overwhelmed, many times when I’ve been overcome to the point where I have felt like my heart was about to jump out of my chest; sometimes for joy, other times in sadness, but today, as I look around this beautiful church, I think that this is really almost more than my heart can take.
It’s apparent just how many lives dad has touched, not to mention all of your lives that
have impacted ours. Thank you for being here to celebrate dad’s life.
About a year ago, Denny and I went to San Antonio and we had the opportunity to go through the Museum of the 2nd World War in the South Pacific. It was then that I started to understand just what dad had gone through.
I came back home here to Rock Island, just after that to see how he was doing and I was so anxious to tell him about it. The morning after I came back, we were sitting there at the kitchen table and I said
Dad, I want to tell you something. “What’s that?" he said.
I want you to know that I know who you are.
He looked up at me, with suspicious eyes and said. “What are you talking about?”
I proceeded to tell him about the museum, how I had seen all these pictures of the 1st Marine Division fighting in Guadalcanal, Peleliu and Cape Gloucester, men tromping through the rain and mud. I told him that I had listened to the audios and read all the literature they had there on the walls and the tables, and how they had a German Submarine, and the fighter planes right there.
I told him that I know a person doesn’t really know anything, until they’ve gone through it themselves, but I did have a better understanding of what it must have been like for him. I told him how proud I was of him. He was such a patriotic and proud Marine. He was strong then and he was strong at the end of his life.
In the past few years, he faced lots of frustration, with his failing eyesight,
hearing and his loss of energy. He was no longer able to go out and feed his birds, or work in his garage, so he moved out of his house that he had been in for 40+ years. He gave up all of his tools and toys. That wasn’t easy, but he knew he had to do it and he faced it with strength. He enjoyed his apartment until the end and he made a whole new set of friends.
One of the things I remember when we were young is he would whistle when he came in the back door from work at night. We could have been upstairs doing our homework or watching TV, it didn’t matter where we were, what we were doing, we would all come running to greet him.
Supper was always on the table at six and every night, and I mean every night, after he was done eating he would get up, go and put his arms around Mom from the back and say
“Another wonderful meal Bernadine”
He loved Mom, he loved us kids and his grandchildren
He was a proud and very blessed man.
As he continues on in his journey, it certainly is bittersweet. I don’t want to let him go, but I will because he has so much to look forward to. I’m sure Lindsay will be the one who opens the door as he enters and Mom will be standing right there next to her with open arms. I’m sure he’ll smell pumpkin bread baking, and the table will be set for a feast that we can only imagine.
I want to close with just 2 lines from a beautiful poem.
This is what Rumi says:
“A baby bird stands on the edge of a nest all day, then hears a whistle, come to me. How could he not fly toward that?”
Dad, Go and enjoy!
Everything is waiting for you.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
The Essence of Our Mission
I woke up this morning thinking about Jerry McGuire, well not Jerry himself so much, but what he was trying to do. Sometimes we get so many things going and we lose sight of the moment or we allow the busy stuff of life to take over. When I think about what really matters to me, there are only two things, my family and my writing.
Last week, we spent 4 days with Denny’s brother and sister in law. They came to Henderson from St. Louis; we did the Vegas thing, cooked some awesome meals, cooled off in the pool and had some… well some very meaningful conversations.
After several years of the 9-5 routine I’m now able to spend the greater part of my day writing, I can go to writer’s meetings, workshops, and am part of a Creative Women’s group. I can set up book signings and do poetry readings, work on my novel about Ireland and almost have enough poems for a 2nd book of poetry.
Next week I look forward to wagon rides with Oliver, the playground at the park, a game of tennis with Jeff and a good chat with Rose, the kind of visit only two women could appreciate.
Most of all I look forward to …
the being with,
the spending time
with the folks that mean the most to me, my family.
Last week, we spent 4 days with Denny’s brother and sister in law. They came to Henderson from St. Louis; we did the Vegas thing, cooked some awesome meals, cooled off in the pool and had some… well some very meaningful conversations.
After several years of the 9-5 routine I’m now able to spend the greater part of my day writing, I can go to writer’s meetings, workshops, and am part of a Creative Women’s group. I can set up book signings and do poetry readings, work on my novel about Ireland and almost have enough poems for a 2nd book of poetry.
Next week I look forward to wagon rides with Oliver, the playground at the park, a game of tennis with Jeff and a good chat with Rose, the kind of visit only two women could appreciate.
Most of all I look forward to …
the being with,
the spending time
with the folks that mean the most to me, my family.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
My Personal Mission Statement
To live each day with balance, giving the attention and care needed to whomever, whatever calls for my help. To personally grow from that process into the person that God created me to be.
I will live so that when I face the end of my life,
I will know that I had elevated myself to a level that I could reach
and then stretched beyond.
I will live so that when I face the end of my life,
I will know that I had elevated myself to a level that I could reach
and then stretched beyond.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Reflection
I am a woman of many faiths. I am a citizen of the world. I have my own inner flame and yet, I will be glad to share yours. I know you have something I can learn.
I’ve prayed to God and have had many conversations with Buddha. I’ve traveled, toured, met people and made friends from Dublin to Bangkok.
I’ve known folks who say things and I would wonder why, only to find it was me who did not understand. I’ve stayed the same over the years and yet, am nothing like I was 20 years ago.
I enjoy many types of music; I’ve gotten high singing worship and never tire of helping Jimmy Buffett find his lost shaker of salt.
I’ve sung the praises of golf with the best of them. I’ve had times of great weakness and then shown strength that not even I recognized.
I am a woman of all ages, I am young enough to run and old enough to fear the loneliness I see in family and friends at the nursing home. I read good books and listen to great speakers and have cried with dad as he loses his eyesight and hearing.
Call it midlife, the change of life, maybe enlightenment; I’ve known great joy and tremendous sorrow. I lost a niece who was only 22 years old and must be content with an autopsy that has no answer.
I’ve raised two boys and the only regrets are that I didn’t hold them longer, tighter. Their faces could still use a lot more wet, mushy kisses- or maybe mine could.
Good kids, happy kids but grown up now and on a journey of their own, choosing their way, rising to their own levels of awareness.
There are no regrets in life, only new days – new ways and hopefully a love that grows stronger for the purpose we are here to accomplish.
Barbara Botch
From Poet's Crossing
I’ve prayed to God and have had many conversations with Buddha. I’ve traveled, toured, met people and made friends from Dublin to Bangkok.
I’ve known folks who say things and I would wonder why, only to find it was me who did not understand. I’ve stayed the same over the years and yet, am nothing like I was 20 years ago.
I enjoy many types of music; I’ve gotten high singing worship and never tire of helping Jimmy Buffett find his lost shaker of salt.
I’ve sung the praises of golf with the best of them. I’ve had times of great weakness and then shown strength that not even I recognized.
I am a woman of all ages, I am young enough to run and old enough to fear the loneliness I see in family and friends at the nursing home. I read good books and listen to great speakers and have cried with dad as he loses his eyesight and hearing.
Call it midlife, the change of life, maybe enlightenment; I’ve known great joy and tremendous sorrow. I lost a niece who was only 22 years old and must be content with an autopsy that has no answer.
I’ve raised two boys and the only regrets are that I didn’t hold them longer, tighter. Their faces could still use a lot more wet, mushy kisses- or maybe mine could.
Good kids, happy kids but grown up now and on a journey of their own, choosing their way, rising to their own levels of awareness.
There are no regrets in life, only new days – new ways and hopefully a love that grows stronger for the purpose we are here to accomplish.
Barbara Botch
From Poet's Crossing
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Julie and Julia
I just came home from seeing the most wonderful movie. I cried from beginning to end. What a joyful, uplifting beautiful portrayal of two women, their lives and the people they loved.
I loved Paris, the food, the wine, the Brie.
Oh! The Valentine’s party,
Julia’s sister.
Ahh..when they danced.
It's a movie for everyone, especially writers, bloggers, cooks, everyone! I couldn’t wait to get to my computer.
So many great lines.
“Do you have any power?”
“Never apologize, no excuses.”
The egg, the pearls.
Hope you'll go see it!
Until next time. a very passionate
Bon Appetit!
I just came home from seeing the most wonderful movie. I cried from beginning to end. What a joyful, uplifting beautiful portrayal of two women, their lives and the people they loved.
I loved Paris, the food, the wine, the Brie.
Oh! The Valentine’s party,
Julia’s sister.
Ahh..when they danced.
It's a movie for everyone, especially writers, bloggers, cooks, everyone! I couldn’t wait to get to my computer.
So many great lines.
“Do you have any power?”
“Never apologize, no excuses.”
The egg, the pearls.
Hope you'll go see it!
Until next time. a very passionate
Bon Appetit!
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