I actually like the idea that Valentine’s is a season rather than just a day. Why not celebrate and share love all year `round? Maybe a wee bit more on the designated day?
To that end, I offer my most recent valentine … two adorable French Bulldog pups who would like nothing better than to be sent out to the world, carrying a smile from your heart to another.
It could really be anyone – grandkids, teachers, partners, school buddies. Remember, there is always someone out there who would love to hear from you. Why not send them a card and say hello?
Maybe not so surprisingly, there have been lots of studies done on journaling and why it’s effective. As journaling has been a longtime habit of mine, I can attest to the fact that it is a helpful practice benefiting both mind and spirit, just as these studies have shown.
If you think back to your childhood, you may have kept a diary. It had a lock and a key to keep prying siblings and/or parents out. It was where we recorded our most private thoughts and dreams, and we often addressed it as if it were our most conspiratorial listener, “Dear Diary …”
Journaling is pretty much an extension of that, a repository for all that’s on our minds, and what we can best share with no one else’s input and commentary. Julia Cameron (“The Artist’s Way”) sees it as a “morning dump”, recommending three pages daily, to get all the troublesome thoughts in our head out and onto the paper so we can leave them behind and start a new day. But you can be totally flexible as to the time, amount, and what you write on or with.
Studies have shown that journaling reduces stress, provides a cathartic experience, and literally, boosts the immune system! And without a medication in sight. Your journal is a place to release emotions, whine, complain, rage, melt into tears, and know that it’s all safely there on the pages.
But it’s also something more, depending where you are in your life. It’s also a way to sort things out, resolve questions, plan, dream, and yes, even write down some joy or occasional delirium. Journaling works because we need to express our feelings, feelings that are not always ready to be shared with the “outside world.” Maybe never. But here they are safe. We can look back at them, or just move on. But there … we’ve said it.
Many of the people who follow this blog are writers, and may already journal and understand its value. But for anyone else? Try it. Start a new habit. Become familiar with the rhythm of writing, of putting down feelings just for you. And while you’re thinking about it, I just happen to have a journal you could start with, or perhaps give to someone in your life who’d enjoy putting their heart and mind on paper. Take a look and happy journaling!
As 2021 begins to fade in the rearview mirror, we look ahead … with hope, bright dreams, imaginings of life just being easier. These are hardly new feelings.
We are weary; these have been long, heavy years, but it seems it is in the human spirit to hope. Even in the darkest days, we have been encouraged, shared courage with others, and have been lifted by so many things.
One of the things that has lifted me this past year – all my life, really – has been music. I can’t imagine what life would be without it. I have been watching this video again lately, and thought to share the wonder of this performance with you as daylight begins to fade in my little part of the world.
Almost everyone knows Josh Groban. The female of the duet is known largely as a pop singer, lately a talk-show host. What many people don’t know is that Kelly Clarkson’s training is in classical opera, and you will hear that towards the end of this unforgettable song from Phantom of the Opera. Happy New Year.
As I sat in the corner of the couch next to the front window, journaling as I do each morning, Jazzy curled up next to me, I looked outside. It was breathtaking. The sun had barely risen and there was a low fog clinging to the ground.
If I were the kind of person to run outside at that hour in my bathrobe, I would have been everywhere, taking pictures of the neighborhood in that ethereal atmosphere. But I am not. I waited until I had showered, made coffee, fed Jazzy, and then I ran out. The sun was just clearing the mist, and casting shadows across a large pine and the leaves along the road’s edge.
At the end of the block, the mist was thinning on the river. This is a view of the Delaware that I never tire of, though I love it most in fall and winter. The white tree – perhaps a sycamore – always just pops in the landscape, like someone took a brush and painted it there.
I walked past this tree that seems aflame. The color is so all-consuming that I honestly can’t remember what it was before, if it was ever green. Even as I write this, I’m smiling, because some of my gardener and blogging friends probably know exactly what all these trees are. Me? I’m by and large a humble fan.
Before I came to this side of the state, I didn’t know what rural delivery was. Sure, you saw mailboxes like those above in movies, but my mail had never been delivered like that. It came in the mailboxes on our houses or in apartment vestibules, and we dropped our mail off in the big, blue mailbox on the corner, or at the post office. Here, I can put outgoing mail in my mailbox, pull up the little red flag, and the postal driver takes it away. I found this convenience magical.
My neighbor texted a photo to me on Halloween, showing me how an ancient tree that had been slowly dropping lower and lower over the nearby street had finally given up and broken. Local traffic could not pass, and this would undoubtedly be a problem for trick-or-treaters. Soon after, I heard the sound of chain saws. This morning I had the first moment to look at the tree, one I’d known and passed by for fifteen years. It was a sad sight, yet I couldn’t help but notice the bright yellow sprout, now visible behind the remains of the aged tree, as if carrying on the torch of the brilliance of life.
I am always awed by the beauty of this river, whether edged with crisping rust leaves, swollen and grey after a storm, or reflecting a bright blue sky on a sunny day. I am so grateful for the richness around me, even that which can be found on a short walk. The simplicity of our natural world is such a balm to all the worries and negativity of the world that might assault us if we’re not careful.
There is so much to be thankful for … in this brief moment of time in which a holiday reminds us to consider our many gifts, but also in every day. We only need to remember and look around us.
Still A Dreamer 