On Reflection

Uncharted paths-

do those words

go together?

It’s as if our eyes

are on the

back

of our heads

so we can see

where

we’ve come from.

Can we see

where we’re going?

If we walked

backward,

would we then see

the path ahead?

A puzzle.

Isn’t life

all a puzzle?

Life-

looked at

in reverse-

seems to show us

what we needed

to find

the place

where we are now.

Those steps

seemed like

zigs and zags

at the time can,

in retrospect,

reveal that we took

the most direct path

after all.

Living Lines, Meaning of Life

Bouquet

Each

friend

represents

a world

in us,

a world

possibly

not born

until

he or she

arrives.

I have a bouquet

of friends,

each one

different.

I find

myself

revealing-

sometimes

discovering-

different

aspects

of myself

with each

of them.

livinglinesreflections.com

Filling Up With Moments In-Between

Artists know that

negative space

defines

a composition.

Musicians know that

the silence

between

the notes

is as much

a part of the

experience

of the music

as the notes.

Think of

space

and

silence

when you

breathe,

knowing

that

the pause

between

the

in-breath

and the

out-breath

fills you.

Paying attention

to one’s breath

is a

reminder of

how full of life

we are.

Imagine

soothing

oxygen,

filling

your body,

reaching

every cell.

It is a way

to stay

in the moment.

livinglinesreflections.com

Best

Do the best

you can

with what

you have.

Enjoy the ride!

A 90 year old

shares the secret.

If we aren’t

satisfied

doing

our best

with

what

we have,

we won’t enjoy

what

we did

accomplish.

livinglinesreflections.com

Rehearsal Skirt

At this time of the year

when

shorter days of light,

holidays

and holydays

combine,

many people,

maybe most,

wear

a mixed

rainbow of feelings.

Sadness

from past

and

present,

pleasure,

joy

sometimes

collide

with outer

appearances,

sparkling lights,

jingle bells,

and our own selves.

How to reconcile

the different streams?

A dear friend

in the theater

told me

about

preparing for a role.

“Put on a rehearsal skirt.”

This season

as I dress to go out,

I put on

my rehearsal skirt.

I am not

playing a role

other than myself.

I am tuning into the

joy

which lives

in my heart

next to the

sadder feelings.

Each time

I return home,

I realize

the rehearsal skirt

helped me

BE

in the happier self.

I am reminded that

dark

and light

are part of the

seasons

and living

as a human being

in a world

where

living

in each moment

is the gift

of Being.

Milestones

Tomorrow

is

my birthday.

Decades declare milestones.

At certain ages

there can be

the realization

that there are fewer

years ahead

than

already lived.

Mid-life

it is called.

Demographers

and cultural observers

 now offer

more gradations than

young,

middle aged

and old.

Early middle age,

middle age

late middle age.

At what point

does your category

become early old age?

Are you in

middle old age

and when

really old age?

For some,

lifespans

extend into the ninth and

even tenth decade.

When Social Security

was made available

at 65,

people weren’t

expected to live

much beyond that.

For some,

there can be

many decades

beyond

that mark.

How to live

these years,

whatever they are called?

Wisdom

offers

the suggestion

to shed

as we age.

Things,

images of ourself,

expectations,

hopes,

dreams,

disappointments.

Shedding

seems to say

that

growth stops

at some point.

Adults

we are.

Approaching

this birthday,

I am beginning

to understand

that letting go

is a better perspective

of what no longer

serves me.

Traveling

lighter,

I

hope

I

am

Growing

Into

Older

Age.

Learning,

growing.

Shifting gears,

slows me

to follow

the Inner Light

to savor

each moment,

each friend,

loved one

and stranger.

Sometimes the

Light

offers

a clear path.

Sometimes

intuition

brings

me on the path

I cannot

see

in this moment.

Treasure in the Mail

Two inches

of mail

awaited

after time away.

Standing by the trash bin,

catalog after catalog,

three of the same,

campaign

requests,

no idea how

my address and name

on their lists.

Snail mail

names and addresses

are sold.

Annoying

and wasteful,

all of it!

A few bills,

still paid by check,

marketing circulars,

trash, trash,

Trees

wasted

in making the paper.

Nestled

in the pile

was a small envelope

hand-printed.

Smiling,

excited,

I opened it

gently.

Inside

a thank you

note,

from

our newly

nine year old

grandchild.

Treasure.

Thank you words

by e-mail

or snail mail,

so rare

these days.

I keep

these special

thoughts,

sometimes displayed

perhaps tucked in

my top drawer

for discovery,

in a week,

months later,

or

when the year

has passed and

the next

arrives.

Always

grateful.

Treasures of gratitude.

Thank you.

Look at Gratefulness.org