Follow the Breadcrumbs…

Bread
Bread (Photo credit: Moyan_Brenn)

I have been thinking lately about bread. Really good bread.

I love a good crusty baguette, a fresh loaf of Italian, or even a good olive oil bread. Lately with the multitude of great breads out there, it’s hard to make a decision which one to choose. I do love a darker loaf with little bits of greek kalamata olives in it. Yum….

Bread, for me, is one of the sustainers of life. A good loaf of bread, some orange marmalade and a hunk of great cheese is all I really need.

I happened to think of bread one day in terms of The Path. My Life Path that is. I wish I could see ahead, wish I would know what’s in store for me, but of course I can’t. I have no idea what’s around the next bend because though God has a great plan for me, I (of course) am not on the planning committee.

So I am left to follow the breadcrumbs. Yes, those graceful breadcrumbs that are just outside my door, waiting to be picked up. I will devour them (because I love bread) and likely, I will keep following them, keep picking them up, and keep having faith. I know wherever I go, those breadcrumbs will be there, showing me the way.

That chance meeting with a friend (or stranger), a random phone call, a wrong turn that ends up being right are part of The Path. It’s about saying YES. Yes to change, to growth, to ME. A chance for me to step up and many times, to find a happier, less fretful way. If I am paying attention, those breadcrumbs will show me the way.

The best thing I can do is to keep picking them up, keep going forward. And, I’ll take the time to really enjoy those breadcrumbs…..

Beautifully Imperfect

Last weekend, a bunch of friends and I (and Jim of course) went up to Cook Forest, PA. and rented a cabin in the middle of the forest. We’ve been to “Cook” many times but it never fails….the forest can clear my head and lower my stress level just by its very existence.

When we drove up the driveway to our cabin, I noticed a large tree at the edge of the property. It was spectacular. Tall and gorgeous, just like the other trees around it, only slightly different. Near the bottom of it, close to the ground, was a huge round mass of extra tree, a nature-ish wort, out there, like an elbow of sorts, for everyone to see.

So I spent some of the weekend thinking about imperfection. I thought of the times, in my younger days, when I had focused on what I thought was wrong with me instead of right. How I would wish for long, blond hair instead of the curly black hair I was given. How I wished I was less busty, slightly taller, and had less of a grecian nose. Looking back on it, maybe it was a by product of youth, to want what I did not have, or maybe it was a teeny self esteem issue, something lots of young girls suffer from in a culture based too much on perfection.

As I age, I realize there is great beauty in imperfection. Just like that tree. It makes us who we are and what we are. We learn to either get over ourselves or suffer eventually, from slight forms of mental anguish or too much botox. Recently, I have been making an effort to love myself fully for who I really am, and too, the person I am growing into. It has taken me years to appreciate my own endowed gifts- the same curly hair I used to try and tame, my slightly larger nose, my graceful legs from all the Greek dancing I did growing up.

When I love myself for who I really am, a beautifully imperfect individual, my unrealistic expectations fall away and I am free to use the gifts I have been given. And, to go forth and make the most of them.

Anonymous Gifts

Big Heart of Art - 1000 Visual Mashups
Big Heart of Art – 1000 Visual Mashups (Photo credit: qthomasbower)

A few summers ago, Jim and I were driving to our summer vacation destination of Ocean City, Maryland.  We came upon the toll booth to the Bay Bridge in Maryland and as we inched our way up to pay the entry fee, Jim remarked (as he did almost every year) that if he’d have bought an EZ Pass, we wouldn’t have been waiting in a long, slow line.

When we got up to the toll booth, the booth employee said “The car in front of you has paid your toll…Have a nice day…”

I think we were momentarily speechless while we absorbed the fact that someone, who didn’t even know us, had been so generous as to pay for our toll…

Fast forward to a recent occurrence in which, as an event chairperson, I received a very generous check in the mail for an event I am helping to coordinate. When I called the donor to thank him, I asked him how he would like his sponsorship to read on the poster (that would be displayed on an easel as guests walked into the event). He said, “I wish to remain anonymous”.

I thanked him again and we hung up the phone. I felt amazed at the unselfish act I was just witness to.

I am lucky to know people who, day after day, do things out of the goodness of their hearts to “pay it forward”. Some have been given ample financial means and wish to share the fruits of their success with others. Others have been through troublesome times and have emerged, strong and faithful, and mean to help (with a full heart) to pay forward the gifts they have received.

But what about those who do things anonymously? This is another thing entirely in my book. I sense there is something ego-less, unselfish, and spiritually mature about this type of behavior. To do acts of loving kindness and generosity without announcement or fanfare, is truly something special in my eyes.

Though I do not have the means lately to be financially generous, I try to do anonymous acts daily that benefit others in small ways. I believe this to be a crucial part of my spiritual growth and maintenance. And, I really don’t have to spend much (or anything at all!). I can leave extra change as a tip, put money in parking meters, do a kind act for a stranger. No one sees me and I try and resist the urge to puff myself up and go telling on myself.

If I give an anonymous gift, I know what I did….and so does God. And really, that’s everyone who needs to know.

Reach for the Sky

The sky is the daily bread of the eyes.  ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

A Beautiful Sky

I am in love with the sky. And though I love a perfectly blue sky, I am even more captivated by a sky that is filled with white clouds and different depths and shades of blue.

God must have certainly had something in mind when he created the Sky. I wonder what he was thinking? Maybe he imagined the perfect backdrop to whatever landscape might be in our line of sight. Think of the perfectness of it behind weddings, picnics, farm houses, and even your house.

Hello Morning Sky!

Sometimes in our work and personal life we will say (when motivated) “Reach for the Sky!”. What does the saying mean to you? To me, it means aim high, achieve your dreams, go for the top….

But maybe, just maybe, it means something more. Perhaps it means stop, take a moment, and use the “powers to be” that are out there in the universe. Could we possibly use  “Reach for the Sky” as a means of channeling the power greater than ourselves for peace and serenity?

Imagine it. Reach for the Sky….for peace of mind…..Reach for the Sky…for answers…..Reach for the Sky….when feeling restless, lonely or troubled…

Perhaps the Sky is a true gift of Grace. Certainly it contains the air we breathe and the weather that gives us rain or shine. But I believe it is more. For me, it has become one of the tools I use to ground myself in times of stress. I will sit outside in quiet, close my eyes, and allow the sun, moon or stars to envelope me and in turn, calm me. The Sky will literally take my cares away and leave behind a feeling of peace and serenity.

I’m going to share a couple more of my favorite Sky photos with you. I hope you become convinced, as I have, there is a great deal more to the Sky than just a pretty backdrop!

Photos by Michelene Cain

Summer Gratitudes

There shall be eternal summer in the grateful heart.  ~Celia Thaxter

Labor Day is coming up this weekend and I always feel like it is the end cap to the summer. And though the first day of fall is still weeks away, I swear I can see the leaves starting to change before my eyes. I can hardly believe the summer is almost over.

How was your summer? Here in southwest Pennsylvania it was very hot, then very rainy, and now it’s just kind of perfect. The days are shorter (yes, always a bit depressing) and there is a chill at night and first thing in the morning. I don’t mind it necessarily; it is more comfortable with less heat and it’s much easier to sleep at night. Cooler weather is also perfect for little backyard campfires and toasted marshmallows!

Abundant Tomatoes!

I appreciate quite a few things about this summer. The first was the garden. Jim (my husband) and Michelene (my daughter), did a gorgeous job with the garden. We are still reaping tomatoes, eggplant, zucchini, onions, garlic and basil. I never get tired of tomatoes and will eat them sliced and salted as long as the garden will give them to me.

Ariel and Jordan!

My cousins came from New York and brought a few extra persons along. Josh, who is seven, delighted me with the way he hung on his grandpapa (Julio), kissed his cheek so adamantly and hugged him endlessly. Imani came too, a blessing from above, and it was so good to spend some time with her. I am always happy to see Christina, Julio and Ariel. God has really blessed me with a beautiful family.

There were some fun birthday parties tossed into the summer mix; Michelene’s landmark birthday and Cally’s tree house soiree. I made some new friends and embraced relatives I do not always get to see so often. This was one of the best parts of the summer.

Congratulations John!

My son John graduated with a computer science degree and I am really proud of him. I just know he is going to make some great employer very happy!

There were some challenges too and that is always the case, isn’t it? We are getting over a loss and praying for the repair of a relationship. If we know deep in our heart that God loves us unconditionally, it is Grace that will help get us through the bumpy spots. Thank goodness we are not in charge of the universe. All we can do is pray and turn it over.

Last weekend the local township held its annual fair. I didn’t make it to the park in time to join my family, but I saw the ending night fireworks from the comfort of my own front yard. I had Jordan with me and she didn’t mind the noise a bit. As we sat on the lawn, in darkness, my heart was overflowing with love for my full life and gratitude for a summer well lived.

Farewell Summer of 2012!

The Penthouse Suite of My Mind

Isn’t it amazing what we choose to focus on?

The above image arrived on a piece of mail recently and I just had to take a picture of it. I stared at it for a time, had a good chuckle and then spent a few minutes thinking about it.

Here is my take on the image. There is so much that matters to me and much of it I do not have control over. This includes my family, my kids, my job, my volunteer projects, etc. etc. etc. It is impossible to keep my mind and attention on “everything” important to me, therefore I choose what is meaningful for that day or that moment.

My mind likes to work overtime on worry and predicting the future. Yes, I like to think I have a crystal ball in my head but really I do not. Taking the most mundane thought or concern and turning it into a ridiculous mountain is a part time hobby of mine. Thankfully, an article I read once compared the mind to a house with rooms. It said: if our thoughts are overwhelming us, we can get up and move to another room. We don’t have to “live” in the negative room of worry and self defeat.

I thought this was a remarkable concept.

Since then, when I get carried away in a room of negative thinking, I try and remember to get up and move to another room in my Mind House. Though I can still hear noise from the negative room, I only hear it as mumbling or whispering. In my “new” room, the style and decor is plush and comfortable. The sofa is very soft and has lots of pillows. There is a fantastic view of woods, a lake, wildlife and flowers through the window. I call this room the “Penthouse Suite” of my mind.

If you’re thinking this is purely a form of meditation, you are right. But I have to tell you, it works. The Penthouse is often times where I fall asleep at night. I have to put aside my worries about today or thoughts about tomorrow and imagine I am on that plush sofa.

Keeping my mind focused on positive things is a mental exercise I practice everyday. And, I believe it is possible to train my mind to head to the Penthouse when things get a bit hairy. I’d prefer the plush sofa over worry anytime.

What does the opening image mean to you? What do you “focus” on?

Fear Not

Decide that you want it more than you are afraid of it.  ~Bill Cosby

Photos by Michelene Cain

I am afraid of a lot of things. I am afraid of success, failure, ignorance and embarrassment. I am also afraid of spiders, the dark and of being in situations in which I do not have control. If I stopped to let my fears take hold of me, I of course think they would do me some serious damage.

There has been so much in the news lately to make us afraid. People have been committing unreal acts of violence to innocent people, without motive. No wonder there is so much fear in the world. It makes me think twice about going anywhere in public these days.

Fear came up in a conversation recently with some friends of mine. We talked about our worst case scenario and what would we do if it happened. I think we decided that we would just get through it. We’d muddle about, figuring it out. There are people who would help us too if we needed it. To rely on one another is not a sign of weakness, but a sign of strength.

I heard a speaker once who said that when she is afraid she pretends she is a small child, and she runs and hides under God’s great robes. In there, she feels safe. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve used that mantra to get me through something scary.

A couple of years ago, I realized I was in a situation that was becoming more and more of a drain. I loved my job but the distance I was traveling had become a huge burden. It would have been easy to stay at that job until retirement but I wanted a better quality of life for myself. The fear of starting a new job all over again, at age 53, was scary.

I finally made the decision that I wanted the quality of life more than I was afraid of starting over. An opportunity opened up for me, close to home, that I had been hoping for. I took the job. A year later, Life is better. It hasn’t all been easy, but it’s definitely worth it. Courage is fear that has said its prayers.

Photos by Michelene Cain

Grace is…a whole lot less worry

I was driving home from Amy’s house last night and while I was at a stop light, I happened to notice a beautiful old white house with blue trim on a corner lot. Blue is really my favorite color lately as I like how it goes with my silver hair, which is getting more and more silvery every day.

The windows seemed bare in the house and then I noticed there was a “for sale” sign in the front yard. I took in the house briefly, noticed the tiny front yard and the busy intersection. I thought “tough sale” as boy, you’d really have to like that house to accept the tiny yard and all the noise from the intersection.

Dairy Queen
Dairy Queen (Photo credit: Lee Cannon)

But wait. There was a Dairy Queen across the street from the house. I was familiar with this Dairy Queen because I have stopped there numerous times on my way home from work. I used to work in the city and when traffic was overwhelming on the parkway, I’d go the back way. And sometimes, I’d stop at that Dairy Queen on my way home.

The DQ would almost make living there worthwhile. Just think of the ease in trotting across the street for a quick cone after dinner. (My favorite DQ treat is a soft serve cone). I really like vanilla and chocolate ice cream swirled together but will sometimes get all chocolate. If you know me well, you know I have a big weakness for chocolate.

The truth of course is I really have no desire to leave my house. Sometimes I get a bit worried about the day I may have to leave. Maybe someday my house will become too much for me; too much mowing, too much shoveling, and too much upkeep. That leads me to worry about Jim and whether we will grow old together, blah, blah, blah and so on and so on.

Sometimes, my mind loves to run away with outlandish scary thoughts. The committee in my head calls an emergency meeting and starts planning all sorts of solutions to my ridiculous problems. That’s when I stand up, as chairman of the committee, and announce that the meeting is over.

Grace is so much less trouble. So much less worry. When I turn my scared stuff over to God, it just melts away. I am lucky I can do this now. It used to be much harder. Thankfully, a little bit of Grace goes a long way.

I’m ready for a cone. How about you?

After the Storm….Grace

Some of my closest friends and I get together at a lake house in Deep Creek, Maryland every year for a long weekend. We are blessed because one of our friends happens to own a beautiful lake house in Deep Creek and really, we can hardly believe our own good fortune.

So we all gathered at the house, beginning on Friday afternoon. We hung out down by the lake, soaked up the sun, caught up on each others lives. Some of my friends I had not seen since December so I was joyous and happy to be with them.

Usually on the first night we take it easy with dinner. Someone brings a frozen lasagna (yep, we’re real gourmets here), someone brings salad, and so on, including rolls, drinks and the requisite desserts. In this case, dessert was a delicious blueberry pie. You just can’t be without sweets during this lake weekend.

So we heated the lasagna, got dinner on the table and the sky became darker and darker. We moved inside in just enough time and then the storm hit. Thunder, lighting, wind, lots of rain. We kept talking, barely aware of all the nature goings on, until of course, the lights went out a few times. Then, the lights went OUT.

My friend Susan quickly gathered all her candles and lit them. We figured this would be a short inconvenience and heck the candles were so cozy we just laid back, kept talking and waited for the lights to come back on.

Here’s the thing. They never came back on.

Saturday morning we all woke up and still no lights. So we heated water on the stove (thank God it was gas), drank instant Chai and had coffee cake, banana bread and fruit. Some of the girlfriends had signed up for a garden tour so they prepared themselves as best they could (there were numerous jokes about a bad hair day) and off they went.

When they left, I hung out with my buddy, Samantha. We changed into bathing suits, sat on the dock and chatted. Later, I took a short nap, just because I could. I had planned to do dinner on the gas grill that night, so there was no stress about warming anything else up in the oven. It was a luxurious afternoon.

When the garden tour group returned, we were all treated to a long boat ride around the lake. The sky was a real stunner- gorgeous baby blue with fluffy marshmallow clouds. As the sun went down, the rays streamed through the clouds and touched the lake. I looked at my friends on the boat. I looked at the sky. It felt like a spiritual experience.

Here’s the Grace. Despite our lack of electricity, we laughed and had the best time. We lit candles when it got dark. We ran down to the lake with watering cans and empty gallon jugs to fill up with lake water, just so we could flush the toilets. Through all this, there was no complaining, no talk of leaving. We just made the best of it. We used dry shampoo, called ourselves Pioneer Women and slept with flashlights.

By Sunday afternoon, we reluctantly packed up our bags. It is never easy to leave the lake house and I think that each time we get together, it almost becomes harder to say good bye. We so enjoy each others company, love and accept each other so completely, and we know that our friendship is a true gift.

Truly…..Grace from God.

5 Things My Dad Taught Me

Boy, was he handsome!

What can I say about my Dad? He was many things to me- father, role model, confidante and best friend. In my earliest recollections of him and in pictures, he was a happy go lucky guy, a huge presence with a big voice and a firm handshake. Everyone knew him as “Big Mike”. He had many friends, he loved to dance and he knew how to have a good time.

Dad was 6’4″ tall, a BIG GUY and he and my mom together raised three daughters. This, I think, must have been his worst nightmare at times, as his parents were Greek immigrants and Greeks, in my opinion, are STRICT with their daughters! He was no exception to this fanatical rule.

Here are some special things I remember about my dad. When he finally gave me permission to go to the prom in eleventh grade, there were tears in his eyes (initially he told me NO), he brought a football to the hospital when my son was born (remember, he had three daughters), he took me to car auctions where we ate hot dogs and sauerkraut (my mom hated sauerkraut and never made it!). Also, he loved chocolate covered peanuts and bushels of hard shell crabs.

Here are the 5 most important things my Dad taught me:

1. Love people for who they are. My Dad sold cars made in Japan (Nissans) when they first came to the USA. He was a top turret gunner in the Air Force during WWII but he held no prejudices.

2. Live Life to the fullest. Work hard but play hard and enjoy yourself. Dad loved to invite his buddies over for loud Greek music, shots of Ouzo and midnight dancing in the living room.

3. Have integrity. I sold cars with him for a few years. Once, I made a bottom line deal on a car and the buyers pulled out a newspaper ad for $100 off any car. I was ticked. My Dad said, “Honor it”.

4. There is no substitution for good salesmanship. Dad would look people in the eye, compliment them and always find something of common interest to talk about. To this day, my sisters and I share this character trait and I know we got it from him.

5. Do what you say. If he told you he was going to be somewhere at a certain time, he was there. He did not go back on a promise. He taught us to be on time, be responsible and STEP UP.

Dad passed away 15 years ago on Father’s Day, 1997. When I tell people this it always brings forth a sad comment. But at that time, I saw his humor in choosing that day to go. I could just picture him saying, “You’ll not forget me now!” Truly Dad, that would be impossible.

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