A Christmas Story

This season there are many that feel the economic pinch so I thought I would share a Christmas story.

Our Home
A young single mom stood and smiled as she watched her children sleep. Gently she snugged the blankets around them and quietly walked to the kitchen.
She sat down, picked up her pen and tried again to fit the wish list of gifts into the budget. She sighed leaned back and looked around.
She thought about the past couple of years and the moves that had been made, but this Christmas they were in the home she hd bought.
She remembered the wonder and excitement on move in day.
The running and laughter as they explored the little old house, the oldest looking seriously at her and asking. Mom is this " Our House", and the smile that lit his face when the answer was yes.
That smile was worth the tight budgets , the creative solutions to expenses unforeseen, and that thought, brought her back to the reality of this budget.
There was little left over for Christmas, she knew there would be gifts from family and hopefully those gifts would fill some of the wishes on the wish list.
Then there was the matter of the tree. It was an old artificial one, a little battered and wobbly, with 2 sets of lights, sad looking in its nakedness. We have no decorations she thought andno money for them. She was tired, but knew, in the the boxes that had belonged to her mom would be something, something she could use.
Quietly she closed their bedroom door. She brought upstairs a couple of boxes marked sewing, as she opened them, memories brought tears, her mother had loved Christmas, the gifts and the noise and laughter of her children and grandchildren.
She wiped the tears and as she unpacked a box, there were dozens of empty spools, could string them on a ribbon for a garland she thought. As she unpacked the box and 'raw materials' appeared, a plan formed, we can make our decorations, together.
Laying out the materials for the next evening, she hoped that someday they would remember what fun they had, not the lack of money.

For many years those decorations still emerged at Christmas and the story was retold how we made them together and how we made our Christmas, not with money, but with love and laughter.

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE

Personal Power

We read and try and stop trying, try again, read some more, listen to another inspirational cd, watch another dvd, read another book, all in an attempt to understand or find "The Meaning of Life".

 The simplicity of it all is amazing for 'The Meaning" is "OUR CHOICE". What we think and what we do, either consciously and aware or by living on auto pilot. If you feel bad then stop doing what makes you feel bad, if it feels good do it some more, listen to your feelings, they definitely are linked to your awareness, your feelings remind you to assess what you are thinking, shift your focus, pay attention to your life and thoughts. YOU HAVE THE POWER to decide and only you, for your life.

 You can only control what you do and think, how you react , your happiness hinges on you, no one can make you happy, they can add to it, but at all times its your life, it is you that sets the pace and tone.  We can lose focus when we say "if only", if only what? That  this person, government, company, or that person  would do what ? If only that hadn't happened or that had happened, if only. In  Rudyard Kipling's  poem If, its all about a big little word and it all comes back to you. So if you think that the world is to blame think again, it cares not what you do, only you care and only you can live your best life, and set the best example by taking care of you and your life.

 When we live our best , we choose what best means to us, for some its wealth, for some its solitude, for some its close family and friends, the 'best' is different for each of us and we fine tune this as we live our lives. Life experiences' teach us that we can only be who we want to be, and that loving ourselves is how we learn to best love others, for they too are living life, either aware or on auto pilot.

 There are people who say, and believe, that they are 'victims' of life, that bad always happens to them, and so it will, and so it appears and so it remains. They live and they attract to themselves others who believe as they do and they wait for others to make them happy and well.

 Ask  ' recovered ' addicts what inspired them to change and it is always, 'I had to make the change, I had to accept that only I could do it.  Once that realization happened, others could encourage and help  but still it had to come from me."

Worry, hate, anger, frustration, fear, resentment, guilt, and other 'bad' feelings are only your  signal that you are focusing in the wrong place, that its time to step back and look at what you are thinking, that it is time to shift your focus.

  So 'live and let live", enjoy, laugh, appreciate, be grateful, find your passion and most of all love you and everyone as they are, for the truth is we all only do what we want, whether we are doing it consciously or by default, so lets enjoy this life.

 When I find myself worrying or feeling a bad feeling, I stop, look at what or why then remember something good, take a deeeep feeeeling breathe and carryon, its takes a little practice but interestingly not much as we really do want to feel good more than we want to feel bad.

Moments: Snow diamonds

Moments: Snow diamonds: "Still, so still, the early morning winter stillness, so cold, night giving way to morning, the light catching and revealing the millions of ..."

Snow diamonds

Still, so still, the early morning winter stillness.
 Sooo cold, night giving way to morning, the light catching and revealing the millions of tiny snow diamonds.
Yet each time they reveal themselves, my mind takes me from the first time I saw them to each time after, from the first time of trying to capture them to take to my papa to the realization that their value is in the wonder they can still give me.
There are fleeting memories attached to my snow diamonds, echoes of childhood laughter, mine and my children, the crisp crunch of snow, and the yearning of that innocence that believed that the snow diamonds were resting stars for they twinkled so.
I type this and wonder how many others were captivated by the twinkle of snow diamonds, and if they too  captured in memory the wonder of it all.