adventure

City Sounds

Ah the sounds of the city. It’s been a while since I’ve been in the city without distractions to just soak in the sounds of the city.

It was a Monday morning. I don’t have an alarm set but I was awoken by the church bells. A very distinct sound. A sound I just had not heard in some time up close, early in the morning. Shortly after, the jack hammer started. Then the car traffic. The city was awake and so was I.

The city sounds are so very different from my home setting. I wake to birds chirping. I almost never hear a car pass at the time I rise. I definitely don’t hear jack hammers. What a difference on this Monday. I continue to hear the sounds of people in the hallway of my hotel in clusters. No sleeping in for this girl. Hammers are starting to bang. Leaf blowers are going full force. Air conditioning units are making sounds. I think I even hear the pipes flowing water in neighboring rooms. Large trucks are shifting gears in the roadway.

As the day turns into night the city sounds a bit different. The sounds of the horses on the cobblestone paths. The sounds of tourists navigating a ghostly tour. The sounds of a wedding taking place in the hotel. The cars passing by. The walkers giggling on the street as they go towards the ice cream shop.

The church bells continue to ring. As I focus on the sounds of the city I can’t ignore what lies beneath within the city. The poverty. The homeless community that appears in both day and night. Looking for something, anything. A side of life I again hadn’t seen in a while because Covid has kept me out of the city for the most part. My world is so small in comparison to what’s largely going on elsewhere. 

So much activity in the city today.

perspective

New Year, New Song

It’s back to school, which means back to work for me. Summer was gone in a flash.

Each member of our school leadership team was asked to choose a theme song for the year. We got some examples to spur our thinking.

Music is one of my love languages – not just love, it’s any emotion, really. The lyrics, the melody of a song can convey meaning I can’t seem to put into words. Playlists can transport me into different eras, remembrances, states of mind. Songs mean much.

So a theme song for the year was a big decision. I tried thinking about it and came up with some possibilities, but nothing seemed to fit. As a singer, it was all about the lyrics. I’d think of a song that had a great chorus, but then there would be some lyric about drinking or broken hearts or something else completely unrelated to school. In that case, it’s a no go.

What was the message I wanted to capture? Resilience. Flexibility. Hope. All things that speak to me in this transition time. In addition, I wanted something upbeat and catchy to keep the mood light.

And then it came to me. The theme song from the classic 70s sitcom, One Day at a Time. Upbeat, catchy, short, sweet, with all the right feelings.

Here are the lyrics:

This is it.
This is life, the one you get
So go and have a ball.

This is it.
Straight ahead and rest assured
You can’t be sure at all.

So while you’re here enjoy the view
Keep on doing what you do
So hold on tight we’ll muddle through
One day at a time.

So up on your feet.
Somewhere there’s music playing.
Don’t you worry none
We’ll just take it like it comes.

One day at a time, one day at a time.

Many of the people in that room didn’t even remember that sitcom, much less the song. So, a chance for them to learn something new.

Even in the very first week of planning, this year has already thrown us some curve balls. We’ve gone from masks are recommended to masks are required no matter who you are and if you’ve had a shot. I’ll admit my chest and shoulders slumped when I heard we were masking again, but I had already seen it coming and brought my laundered masks to work. Life goes on. It does.

We will get through it. We will have to help each other. We will have to approach each morning with a fresh perspective. We will do the best we can. If we trip and fall, it’s up on our feet and at it again. Somewhere there’s music playing…

One day at a time. One hundred and eighty five to go.

mental health, perspective

Whispers

There were whispers amongst the group. Who will go? Who will stay? Where is so and so going? When will this shift happen? Why?

The Who. The What. The Where. The Why. The story of the W’s. The story isn’t really just about those W’s. It’s about the whispers. The W word most don’t fess up to. And while we mention whispers, it’s really not nice to whisper (period).

Why do people whisper? Why does another’s choice matter? In a recent conversation with my teen, the sexual choice of a young adult came up. Two sisters, twins by birth. One openly gay. One not. The openly gay announcement was recent. The backlash from parents and community was negative and far reaching. Why? The whispers. 

Does that young adult’s choice impact me directly? No. Why do I hear the whispers? It’s society. Preconceived values and expectations. Religious beliefs also play a role. So overwhelming for a young adult to process let alone live through it. Why would one stay and suffer? 

Then there is the sports field. The girl whose parents think she is a star but grossly overlooked. The parents complain. Again and again. The coach gives in. Play time is awarded to offer peace. The team suffers. Did this really just happen? Another child earned their spot. Their parent doesn’t complain. There are whispers. One leaves. One stays. Why? The whispers again. 

The shift in social setting. The friend that moves out of the circle. Just for space or personal growth. Is it a bad thing to focus on one’s growth? Of course not but the circle may take it personal and then whispers begin. Awkward to some. Stressful to others. Whispers are not nice I tell you.

Is it not obvious?  The whisperers can’t see that decisions are made because of actions made by others in most cases. Solo trips in any of the situations above may seem scary but yet they are the best option. If one stays in any situations noted above, the individual(s) will suffer. Taking a stand silently or through some form action shows strength. Inner peace. Confidence. The strength of flying solo and not caring what others whisper about.

For those who whisper, think about it. How would like to be on the other side of the whispers? 
Are you the whispering type of person or the one who steps out and flies solo when the need arises?

health

That Cup of Coffee

I like to have a cup of coffee in the morning when certain circumstances arise to put me in the mood for a cup of joe. Sometimes it’s a group coffee event while other times I’m solo or maybe even in a dynamic duo.

I could be at the farm and want to look out at the hillside and smell the fresh air with a cup of coffee in hand. It doesn’t seem to matter if it’s hot, cold or something in between. It’s the environment and the coffee seems to be a warm and soothing way to take in all in.

Today I had a cup of coffee by the window in my kitchen. I was sitting solo while others slept in. I just watched the trees with a gentle breeze on a pretty weekend morning. Nothing fancy but a good way to kick start a busy day. Today’s coffee was warm from the keurig with a squirt of sugar free vanilla syrup and a splash of creamer. Just right for me in my cute mug I picked out. It’s funny how sometimes the cup I choose makes me smile as much as the coffee. Simple pleasures.

Somedays it’s a Starbucks kind of morning. If it’s chilly I go for the hot caramel macchiato: if it’s warm outside I’ll take the iced version. When I get the iced coffee it’s all about the presentation. A photo is normally taken by me when it’s just right. The milk about half full. The coffee floating on top. The caramel drizzling sliding down the side. It’s a delightful sight that makes me smile. Some days the field trip to the coffee shop is just the break I need from the chaos of the day.

Then there is the plus one coffee. I may meet a friend for a cup of coffee. I may make a crazy tiktok coffee with my kiddo to test the latest fad coffee. The last one was a hit with almond milk and my frother. I’ve even had a coffee date drive-up style during Corona to keep my 6 feet distance. Sipping side by side in vehicles. Only in a pandemic would that seem normal.

Sometimes I just want to sit outside at a little bistro table and sip away. I could be a party of one or two. I could be at home or out and about. It doesn’t matter to me. It’s the comforting feel of the warm coffee and the environment. The fresh air. The scenery. The smell of fresh brewed coffee. Sometimes the company is good but sometimes the silence is even better.

That cup of coffee. Just one cup. Many thoughts. Many conversations. That cup of coffee is such a sweet addition to my week.

balance

New Spots or Spaces

I have a few new spots or spaces to find peace and recovery. These spots and places all have a purpose to me in their design but also in the usefulness over time.

A bench seat tucked in the woods. It’s not a fancy spot by any means. A resting place while taking the dog for an adventure. A place to sit and reflect on a crazy day. A peaceful spot away from others. The bench in the woods. 

The bike erg set under cover outside. A place to ride stationary for a secondary workout. Nestled in fresh air. Where you can hear and smell the rain and see and smell the flowers. A new scenery of sorts. Why not move the bike outside instead of staring at a wall. Maybe the miles on the bike will be less taxing based on the surroundings.

The gathering spot. The open air venue where I can bring people to gather. For a picnic. For cocktails. For community. Large enough to accommodate a big group yet small enough to be intimate. An eclectic place that is a quirky as me. This is a shared space or spot. A space I choose to share with others to offer to others what they may not have in their life. A spot or space that is as unique as them.

The thinking chair. The chair with a cozy and soft blanket. A place to write in the notebook or take notes on the digital device while others sit nearby in their own peaceful state. The thinking chair can be any chair. Mine is just where I choose to gather my thoughts and think about endless possibilities. 

The big top. The circus tent in my mind. The desert oasis type of tent. Set in a rustic wonderland. Cool breezes flowing through the netting. The smell of fresh wood, animals and water, a comfy bed to nap in. Chairs just outside should I dare to leave the comfort of the tent. My little writing nook. My special place to write new chapters. The place to imagine new endings or maybe even new beginnings.

Spaces and spots are important to me. Spaces and spots provide change and opportunities in my life. Rest in one place. Work in another. It’s a balancing act of sorts. Many will not understand and that is perfectly fine with me. 

I have a swing to add to my spots and spaces in the future as well. Another story to tell I’m sure. Stay tuned. This list is not all inclusive. I have many more spots and spaces but this blog isn’t a tell-all-be-all information site. These blogs represent a glimpse of life. A tidbit to upcoming books and so much more.

I wonder which chick wrote this post? Another question for readers I suppose. Author identity may or may not be shared in a post. You the reader may think you know but you really don’t know unless you ask.

Drop us a line whenever you are curious.