Morning Meditation - Have Faith

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Morning Meditation - Have Faith

 Morning Meditation™️. Have faith. It is the foundation from which all good things spring forth. 🕊

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Gratitude Moments, Vol. III, April 2013

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I find this exercise to be freeing, especially because I never know what the gratitude thoughts are going to be until they flow from my fingertips. Kind of like entertaining Angels unaware...because the moments of blessing lurk so quietly until we open the door and allow them to fly.

I never begin a Gratitude Moments post with a preconceived notion of what thoughts will be given voice.  So, here we go...walk with me and let's see what is discovered.

Gratitude Moments

1. Having the perfect pillow for your bed.  This one is tricky.  I'm a pillow smoosher, and prefer a soft, fluffy pillow that I can punch and scrunch and mold.
2. Having a conversation with someone who completely gets you.  Y'all know what I'm talking about.  It's that kind of exchange where words are almost unnecessary, but when words are exchanged, the flow is effortless.  I'm blessed with many relationships of this quality.
3. Taking naps during the day, but even better, taking a nap during a rainy day.  I call them soft, gray days and we have them occasionally here in East Tennessee.  
4. Snow.  Having enough snow for the making of Snow Cream, and walking out in Nature with my camera to capture magical moments.
5. Having the dexterity and knowledge from learning to crochet as a child.  My great aunt Carrie taught me to crochet on her front porch, sitting in the glider.  Throughout my life, I have made countless Love Gifts for friends.  Some Love Blankets made for babies have now been passed down to the next generation, from what I'm told.  Knowing that I am creating a piece that will live for decades, given proper care, is something that I enjoy.  It's like leaving a piece of myself behind, infused with love.
6. Online shopping!  Having worked many years in retail management, I am so appreciative that I can avoid malls during the holidays.  Online shopping is a huge gratitude moment.
7. Recently joining in the marriage celebration of a very dear friend and seeing this ages old affirmation that love is enduring, crosses all boundaries and lifts us up.  *Congratulations, Spooks & Beth!*
8. Call them what you will....handbags, purses, pocketbooks.  They make me happy!!!  I prefer the structured, classic lines that hark back to the mid-Century styles.  And yes, it may be true that a few of my bags are on the large and roomy side (Marticus, hush it!), but they're necessary.  Really, they are.
9. One cannot express appreciation of handbags without giving an equal nod to shoes.  These two, handbags and shoes, are completely materialistic.  I admit it.  They're still something that makes me happy on a regular basis.  I'm equal opportunity in regard to heel height.  Flats, stilettos, and everything in between, with the exception of wedge heels (they look like animal hooves to me).
10. Meeting someone who meshes with you regarding hugging style. This is huge, people!!  I'm not big on social "air hugs".  I want the full deal - both arms around me, hold me close and tight, eyes closed, for long, long, quiet moments so that we absorb one another.  Yes.  And you know who you are.
11. Ruby red grapefruit.  It is one of my favorite fruits!  
12. Eyes that see.  Limbs that function.  Ears that hear.  Lips that speak.  Lungs that breathe easily.  A body that is in a state of good health.  I am aware that each day I step from bed and walk throughout the world, there are many who have none of these blessings.  I am consciously aware of and embrace gratitude for having a healthy body, particularly so because I have experienced health challenges in the past.  
13. Having a creative spirit - this is one of my strongest blessings.  It allows me to express myself in myriad ways.  Here, through writing.  In other areas, through my hands as I create tangible objects of art.  With my thoughts, as I engage in conversation with others.  In my waking and slumbering dreams, as those are the places that inspire me to do all of the aforementioned.
14. I love the sound of trains at night.  I grew up in East Tennessee and the sound of trains is a constant backdrop.  Yes, I've written about this here at Healing Morning - Train Song, 3/12/2010.  As I am writing this post tonight, it is raining and I can hear the rhythm of an approaching train, its whistle muffled and distant.  Because this has been a background sound my whole life, it always makes me smile and brings me to a peaceful place when I hear the sound of trains.
15. Both of my nephews bring me joy on a regular basis.  They're seven and ten years old, respectively, and at an age where normally hugging and kissing girls would ick them out.  I'm happy to report that this is not the case for me.  Either they don't see me as a girl, or they just love me enough to overlook that I'm a girl, because they hug and kiss me with much enthusiasm. It makes my heart melt. During Christmas holidays, as I was leaving my brother's house (their father), I heard, "Aunt Dawn, wait! I forgot to kiss you!  That means I get another hug."  These are currently wet puppy smelling hugs, because they're still little boys and they just always smell like wet puppies from playing hard.  They're accepted and returned with equal enthusiasm.  
16. Spring planting.  As a kid, I would never have predicted that as an adult, I would grow to appreciate and enjoy gardening, but it has come to pass that I am repeating childhood cycles in the best way possible.  I am potting kitchen herbs, starting seedlings for tomatoes, waiting on flower bulbs to arrive from catalog orders, and anticipating a flourishing patio garden this year.  It reconnects me to happy memories of similar planning of gardens with my maternal grandfather, and my dear Mom.  And this year, with luck, my miniature Meyer lemon tree just might produce fruit!  

I ask you, who can live in such a world as described above, and not dwell in gratitude?

The word "impossible" is a fallacy

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Difficult things take a long time, impossible things a little longer.  - André A. Jackson

My dear friend, Marie Blackstock Rhoades shared this quote on her Facebook wall a few weeks ago.  It prompted a thought for me that grew into the foundation for a blog article.  I typed it into my Drafts folder, fleshed it out a bit and then left it until today.  I feel this is always a timely topic to ponder.  I'm not saying this is true 100% of the time, but I will say that I have learned over my life that a great deal of the time, the word 'impossible' is a fallacy.

Years ago - back when computers were still being managed w/ DOS language (shudder), I worked for an environmental engineering group. Nightmarish conditions, because they hired a lot of retired engineers who had worked for 30+ years in Oak Ridge, TN (Secret City, Manhattan Project) and had been trained to be inefficient. So, here I was, working w/ these men and translating their daily instructions into Fault Trees for Nuclear Meltdown - building an inverted pyramid w/ the apex/tip of the pyramid being nuclear meltdown and the widening cone of the pyramid being all the individual points that had to first happen before nuclear meltdown occurred.

It was tedious work, using (at the time) a new software imaging program that wasn't user friendly or intuitive. The engineer I was assigned to would give me sheets of instructions to transfer into fault tree status and I'd work on it and return it to him. I'd argue and tell him he was asking for things that couldn't fit into a specific parameter and he'd ignore me and say he needed it by 5pm. Great, right?  We've all worked in environments that weren't supportive and we all know that we have to swallow rude comments and lack of support and find a way to get the job at hand done. So, I'd go back to the computer and wrestle with it, get it figured out and accomplish what he asked for.

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Weeks into this project, a younger engineer came to me with the printouts I had worked on and sat down and said, "How did you do this?" I looked at the printouts - huge reams of ink plotted graphs - and thought, "Oh no, what have I done? Created something that really WILL kill a whole city if the instructions [for the Fault Tree] are off?"

His next comment: "Look, don't worry - you haven't done anything wrong at all. What you have done is actually not possible to create with that software package and we need to know how you did it."

Me: "What do you mean, it isn't possible? The engineer I'm working with told me it was."

Him: "He's an idiot and he KNEW it wasn't possible. He treats all his assistants that way. We've told him over and over to not do this to new people in his group; he always dumps the hardest stuff on new people and blames them when his deadlines aren't met. 


But this time, that didn't happen. He came in ahead of deadline. His reports are flawless and extremely well written, AND these plot graphs are something that isn't supposed to be possible with that software package. We just want to know how you did it so we can take notes and create a new training system. You made the program do something it wasn't designed to do and the designer even told us today he'd never seen anything like this. He said the program shouldn't be able to perform in that manner."

I can remember just staring at him in confusion, then finally laughing. Little old me who knew zero about programming, coding or how to coerce a software program to cooperate had somehow circumnavigated the system, admittedly out of blissful ignorance, and created some landmark achievement that had nuclear engineers stunned and impressed.  All because I didn't know that this feat was 'supposed to be impossible'. 

So, in a long-winded manner, this is a good example of the above quote. I did something that, in theory, was impossible because I didn't KNOW it was impossible. All I knew was that I was given a task, a deadline and was working with someone who threw me off a cliff and expected me to fly with no warning. So, I found a way to achieve that. I still think of that, all these years later, when times are tough.  I redefined 'impossible' and created a new version of 'possible'.

We're conditioned at a very early age to doubt ourselves.  To not speak up when our intuition is telling us a better method of approach is available.  We subdue our inner voice to fit in and become another mindless sheep in the vast herd.  For some people, this type of existence works quite well and I am not slamming that fact, or denigrating those people.  For me, simply existing isn't an option.  I want to live my life out loud, knowing that I am constantly making waves, moving forward, conquering new goals and achieving new dreams.  That moment in my past was another of those pivotal, Life Changing points.  I learned that I have a much more agile mind than I gave myself credit for all those years ago.  These days I listen to my own inner voice and I honor myself in the ways that allow me to thrive and flourish. 

I seek experiences that other people warn me are not smart to try.  I reach for goals that many delight in telling me that I'll never achieve.  I ignore 'well meaning advice' because 99.9% of the time, that advice is being offered as a means to deter me or break my dreams apart.  I know that within me is an incredible well of talent.  There's a bright glowing core of energy pulsing and sending out vibrant streams of possibilities....and that core of energy is uniquely mine.  I've had moments of accomplishment that underscore how important self belief is.  I have strong intentions for more triumphant moments to occur.  I say this because I know and repeat today that a great deal of the time, the word 'impossible' is a fallacy. The word 'impossible' is just a word. 

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When naysayers get in your way with their dire warnings and predictions of failure and doom, I suggest you cheerfully ignore them and chart your own course.  RETHINK IMPOSSIBLE.  Create your new version of possible. How we choose to react to words and unexpected events, as I have said many times before, is what defines us. It's your life, after all.  Your story to write, your canvas to paint...your doorway to step through.

I choose to continually define myself as that person who writes her own reality.   

Mystical Roommates

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Bing images

I believe in magic.  No, I'm not making that up and I'm not kidding.  I really do believe in magic.  No one can convince me it doesn't exist.  I see it constantly and as a child was always a bit confused as to the why of no one else noticing these same unique moments.  Fortunately, I was born into a family with an amazing, witty, warm hearted Mom who also saw the occasional magical moment.  Humor lives in the overall personality of my large, prolific, Irish Clan of a family, as does an active imagination and a decidedly healthy Story Teller gene.  We all have it, some more than others.  Perhaps that Story Teller gene is responsible for some of us recognizing magic here and there.  For whatever reason, I received an especially strong application of that genetic tendency.

I joke often with friends about House Elf activity.  I'm sure you've either heard of it, or you've experienced it.  You know....your car keys mysteriously disappear and are eventually discovered in some absolutely bizarre, unexpected location that you swear up and down you were not responsible for.  Socks disappear in the dryer on a regular basis.  Pretty, shiny things like rings, watches, earrings and cell phones, or important things like wallets also unexpectedly disappear for weeks at a time, only to surface, out of the blue right slap in the middle of the living room carpet that you just finished vacuuming earlier the same day.  No way on Earth could the jewelry items have escaped the relentless suction and rotating rollers of the vacuum. 

How, then, do they suddenly materialize in the very middle of the freshly cleaned carpet?  If this sounds like first hand experience to you, you have a good eye...it is my firsthand experience and yes, that has happened to me, jewelry, vaccuum and all, quite recently. What causes this?  I have an answer for you.  It's Elf Activity.  Again, no, I'm not kidding.  You don't see any exclamation point on the "not kidding" part because I'm serious!  Okay, that last did require an exclamation point, just for a little extra emphasis, but I'm still not kidding.

This has happened to me throughout my life, the mysterious disappearing items, quite often of the shiny, sparkly variety and then the equally mysterious reappearance of those items in unlikely locations.  I suspect it is the Wee Folk.  Do I feel this to be true because I'm of predominantly Irish descent?  It might be a factor.  There is also Native American Indian heritage, Cherokee, in my family tree.  Those are two very strong, mystical races who believe(d) in the natural cycles of Mother Earth, respect(ed) the Four Elements of Earth, Fire, Water and Air, and also believe(d) in the presence of magical beings.  The Irish call them the Wee Folk.  "The Cherokee call them Nunne hi (forgive me for not being able to place the proper diacritic pronunciation marks on that word - blogspot word processing tools do not accommodate that at this time), or the 'immortals', and believed they lived near running water sources"...springs, waterfalls, rivers and lakes. (The Folklore of Faeries, Gary R. Varner, AuthorsDen)

I live in East Tennessee, which is graced with endless fresh, fast running water sources.  Much of the geological makeup of this area is sandstone and limestone, which not only provide a purification process for water as it trickles through the sediment and layers of the aquifers, but also harbor quartz rock crystal.  Quartz crystal, my friends, is a conductor of energy.  It is scientifically proven to have a measurable electrical signal of very precise frequency (Wikipedia), which is why it is commonly used to regulate clocks and wristwatches. 

Can you tell I've given this topic a lot of thought?  Why did the Native Americans believe that the Nunne hi inhabited the land surrounding fast running, fresh water sources?  Why did the subsequent Irish immigrants who came and settled this area also believe that the Wee Folk were in evidence here?  Could it be possible that back then, when there were no machines to mask sounds or deaden our natural senses, that Native Man and other races who respected the Old Ways might have been more in tune with the cycles of Nature than we are able to achieve today?  Could it be that the surrounding geological makeup of certain regions provide(d) a frequency that, perhaps, thinned the doorway between dimensions and allowed those with certain sensitivity to "see" these beings?  In olden days, this ability was called having "The Sight" in the Smoky Mountains and in the Old Country - in this case, Ireland.

These are just my own ruminations on the topic.  I can't prove any of it, but I do see some connecting points in my theory and in many of the ones I have researched over the years.  I know that I have regularly experienced those odd moments of personal items disappearing and reappearing that convince me there is more afoot than my modern age eyes and senses can quite grasp.  So, in my own unique way, I choose to be open to the possibility that the Wee Folk exist.  When something disappears in my home, I've learned to be patient, maybe have a lighthearted conversation or two with the Invisible Ones who may be using that item for a bit, and eventually it will reappear in one of those random, unlikely locations.  The occurrences are so extremely odd that it tickles my sense of humor to no end. 

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Bing images

When I lived in a different apartment about 6 years ago, I had a platinum ring that I wore daily.  One afternoon I took it off, as I did nightly, and placed it in the little crystal bowl that held the few pieces of jewelry I wear daily.  That crystal bowl was in my bedroom, on an antique buffet that doubled as a chest of drawers. The next morning that particular platinum ring was missing.  I looked high and low, scoured the area around the chest where the crystal bowl sat, retraced my steps, searched the clothes I had worn the prior day, even searched my car and the walkway leading to my front door.  The ring was nowhere to be found.    

I acceded to my invisible roommates and stopped searching for the ring, letting them know they were welcome to wear it, admire it, play with it, do whatever they liked and that I looked forward to having it returned when they were finished with it.  You may be reading this and thinking that I am a bit more than eccentric.  If so, that's okay.  You probably have some habits that I would find curious and that you'd probably not be so bold as to write about in public forum; that's what makes us all unique and beautiful.

Getting back to my story about this platinum ring, when I began packing to move from that particular apartment, one afternoon I moved a bar stool from a corner where it had been placed and not moved since the day I moved into that unit.  I had never sat in that bar stool, had never placed anything there, nor had anyone else.  It occupied an awkward spot in the dining room that made it impossible to sit comfortably, so that bar stool just filled that corner, untouched and unmoved.  That day I pulled it out and sneezed from the resulting cloud of dust (okay, I said it sat there, untouched & unmoved...I'm not that vigilant about dusting unused furniture).  I lifted the stool to carry it to another spot and saw a sparkle on the cushion. 

You guessed it....right slap in the center of the bar stool seat cushion was my long lost platinum ring.  Remember, please, that I said that barstool was placed in that awkward spot the day I moved into that apartment and then wasn't shifted a single inch until 2 years later when I was preparing to move - there was no logical explanation for how that ring could have found its way to that spot on its own.  I know I didn't place it there.  In fact, the day I moved into that apartment, I had yet to purchase that platinum ring so it couldn't have been misplaced there during the moving in process. 

This little scenario has played itself out over and over throughout my lifetime with various shiny, sparkly items.  I can only surmise that the Wee Folk who now have drifted into our personal living space become bored within the confines of an apartment environment and seek to entertain themselves with something pretty.  I have rarely "lost" something of this nature permanently.  Indeed, I find that as long as I acknowledge the item is merely being borrowed and graciously encourage the enjoyment of the borrowing, the item generally reappears fairly soon.  The entertaining, often delightful part of the process is the humor that is employed in the reappearance of these items.  They're crafty, the Wee Folk, with how they return things, choosing the most intriguing, exasperating and unexpected moments and locations to drop the item back into my dimension. 

Because I see this as a strong possibility and because I firmly believe in the existence and truth of other mystical beings and magical occurrences, I find that I exude a lightness of Spirit that is attractive to others.  Perhaps they recognize the simple joy that springs from embracing concepts that we most often abandon with childhood years.  Possibly they appreciate that I am willfully, unabashedly and without shame, declaring that magic does exist.  It is certainly a bold statement to make and many will read this and shake their heads in dismay that I, a serious writer, would choose to embrace such concepts, not to mention write about them in public forum. 

I have to throw my two cents in here and tell you that yes, I am a serious writer, but that serious respect for my craft does not prohibit me from expressing, in writing, the beauty that I see in the possibility of magic still existing.  In fact, I feel it demands that I write certain truths, be they delightful, mystical and magical, or more prosaic, occasionally uncomfortable topics such as grief management, or droll ones such as the refusal to follow accepted rules of writing.  My writing style changes with my moods and today, I felt like giving voice to my mystical, spiritual, Story Teller side.

In the forgotten mists of time, we were a different people.  We moved with the seasons, respected the land, embraced the cycles of Nature and, I believe, had much clearer vision to see the realms and dimensions that we are now, sadly, nearly blind and numb to.  A few of us, however, retain some small divining spark that allows us to still sense tiny indications of magic.  Some of us notice what others claim as common forgetfulness and/or being careless with possessions to actually be the proof that mystical beings and magic are still afoot. 

This topic was prompted by a recent conversation with a girlfriend in social media format that gave me "fizzies" (happy, warm, bubbly inside-ness) in abundance, as we went on a virtual visit of the Emerald City and took a detour to an enchanted dragon cave.  It was a delightful bit of whimsy designed to lift this friend's spirits as she approaches a small hurdle along her Life Path, but it also was a conscious, intentional nod from my inner Spirit to hers, recognizing that yes, magic does exist, still, in both of us.  In that moment, merely having that lovely conversation carried the spark of magic strongly enough to make us both smile, not just that evening, but in my case, well into the following day.  This topic was also prompted by another friend, this time male, who is forever being visited and teased by his particular troop of House Elves - they like his keys, his cell phone, and most recently, his wallet.  This friend recognizes the enchanted part of my Spirit and allows me to speak freely of magic and mystical possibilities.  The two occurrences, with both friends, spaced so closely together in time, nudged me just enough to sit down and tap out these words.

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Bing images

Magic, these days, is an elusive element.  It slips teasingly just beyond our fingertips, most often eluding our grasp, wafting lazily beyond reach to lure us forward, to continue searching...to continue dreaming...to continue BELIEVING.  I do not feel the beliefs I espouse here in this blog article are in direct contradiction of my faith in God/Universe/Spirit.  I believe that magic and mystical beings are an intrinsic part of the makeup of this beautiful Earth that houses us all, and that all of these things that are seen and not seen with human eyes are all Divinely created.  Magic, and mystical things, therefore, although elusive, are all around us, waiting for us to consciously, willfully, joyfully, simply believe.  That is when they sparkle most brightly, you know, and when they just might pay you a visit and borrow something pretty.  If you welcome that magic and that touch of the mystical with a smile and an open heart, you just might find yourself engaging in sometimes comical, occasionally exasperating, often delightful treasure hunts.  The purpose of having mystical roommates these days, I believe, is simply another friendly reminder to us that, just maybe...magic is afoot. 

Simply believe...and be joyous!

Belief and transparency

When I began the process of blogging, I had no idea how it would grab hold of my whole Spirit and become such a joyful experience. I have always written, have always held the intent to achieve certain goals with my writing and have been quietly putting those steps in place over time. Blogging sort of fell into my lap unexpectedly and has proved to be an outlet for creativity in a manner that is unique for me. Here, I do not have to please any specific client, adhere to any other schedule or format than the timeframe and template I choose for my blog page, and even those can be tweaked at will. Blogging, therefore, is one step removed, for me, from journaling. Where journaling is my innermost private thoughts written in longhand in artist's sketchbooks, blogging is almost as personal a creative process, written on the computer screen.

That very fact has become a learning process all its own. It starts out relatively simple. You start writing and you post a blog. Then you tell friends about it. At some point, you stumble across ways to promote your blog and you begin to amass people who follow your blog. That's when the realization begins to settle in that, as a result, blogging makes you transparent. By that, I mean that your thoughts are out there for the world to see, via the internet, with the stroke of a key. Hence, what began as just another writing exercise takes on new meaning. People post comments and send emails, replying to a given blog with positive or negative statements. You, as the author of the blog, learn from these comments and you grow as a writer. And you accept that you have chosen to continue to embrace this path of relative transparency. I think a quote by one of my favorite Sages addresses this concept quite well:

"When you are a Bear of Very Little Brain, and Think of Things, you find sometimes that a Thing which seemed very Thingish inside you is quite different when it gets out into the open and has other people looking at it."

~ Winnie the Pooh

This, then, is where I come to the "belief" part of the title of this blog. When I sit down to write a blog, it is 100% of the time because I've had a conversation with someone, read something, heard a song, looked at, or experienced something beautiful and my mind will not leave me alone until I get the words written. I never know how any given blog post will be received by the people who read it. In fact, when friends who follow my blog tell me they read a post, or that they follow my blog faithfully, it still has the power to shock me a bit. Perhaps all creative people have that reaction, not really truly believing in their own talent. This is another indelible lesson that blogging is teaching me - to believe in my own talent.

I have learned over a lifetime of writing, that for me, it is best to just write it out and not critique it too harshly in one sitting. Walk away from it and return the following day, see how it reads from a fresh perspective - this is my normal process. When I adhere to that formula, I am usually quite pleased with what I have created. There are, however, quite often moments when I think that a blog post, or an article I've written just doesn't really hit the note for which I was striving. The final draft doesn't seem to flow freely along with the melody in my mind. Again, I have learned to ignore those doubts, tweak the final draft to the best of my ability and post it. I am finding that a very large number of the posts I have wrestled with a niggling sense of doubt about, in fact, turn out to be the ones that people post the most comments about. Postive comments, at that.

One friend, in email conversation mentioned that (paraphrased here), "...you felt at the time that it deserved the focus and attention to write it out. I believe that means it should live."

This was in response to my self-doubts and wondering if I had written something too similar to a recent post and if I should delete the post I felt to be of duplicate content.

Another very dear friend and fellow blogger commented on my most recent post, entitled Musical Thoughts with glowing remarks that completely smoothed out those ever present niggling doubts I had had about that post. For a few long moments, I contemplated just not posting that blog entry, for fear that my concept was bit too outlandish for most people to relate to. I was beyond pleased when this friend wrote such positive comments and indicated that I had made an impact in the way he viewed writing. For me as a writer, that is the ultimate compliment and one that I will treasure. It tells me that if I stay in that calm, quiet assurance I have when I am writing, and trust myself and my instincts, the words will flow and will have that impact I am seeking to impart.

There are moments when I write a blog that everything sparkles, the planets all align and the words flow effortlessly, with the final result just making my heart sigh in pleasure. Those moments are more rare than some might expect. Writing is definitely hard work, full of inner struggles, frustrations and tons of doubt, I have found.

So, for me, belief, transparency and Pooh's comments about "Things suddenly not being so Thingish when other people get a look at them" have coalesced into a surprisingly comfortable combination. Indeed, those "Thingish Things" do change when others read them and I find that to be one of the most rewarding aspects of writing, blogging, etc. My own decision to believe in my writing ability and take the next logical step into the transparent world of blogging has opened up a panorama of Thingish Things. While I still struggle occasionally with typical moments of doubt, the greater and stronger result is that I am discovering new depths, layers and dimensions of writing and blogging. Consequently, I am receiving confirmation that perhaps I am making a difference to a small number of people in the process. Nothing makes me happier than to hear that someone has read my stuff and enjoyed the experience. It doesn't get much better than that, so, here's to continuing to embrace belief and transparency.

Lamp shining brightly

A couple of friends of mine are going through some challenges. One lost a beloved family member; another was just having a really crummy personal day. The quote below came to mind for both of them and prompted me to write my own thoughts:

"Perhaps it will seem to you that the sunshine is brighter and that everything has a new charm. At least, I believe this is always the result of a deep love. And it is a beautiful thing. And I believe people who think love prevents one from thinking clearly are wrong; for then one thinks very clearly and is more active than before. And love is something eternal - the aspect may change, but not the essence. There is the same difference in a person before and after he is in love as there is in an unlighted lamp and one that is burning. The lamp was there and it was a good lamp, but now it is shedding light too, and that is its real function. And love makes one calmer about many things, and in that way, one is more fit for one's work."
~ Vincent Van Gogh

I have always found this quote to be startlingly beautiful. The concept captures so many different applications of how we, as humans, love. It also narrows the reader's focus to a still, silent thought, a moment to ponder love and how it illumines each Soul.

We all have those unpleasant days - at times they can go beyond the span of a day - where nothing feels good. Nothing seems to fit, colors are muted and sounds are muffled. We twist and turn, searching for something outside of ourselves to mitigate this dimming effect. At times, something outward does do the trick. There are moments which require only a change in scenery, or the company of a good friend to lift our mood and banish the gloom. For the moments that extend beyond those quick fixes, Van Gogh's quote sometimes comes to mind for me.

For those who have suffered the recent loss of a deeply loved one, the process of grief is an individual one. Each of us must walk that particular path alone, moving through the various stages until acceptance finally is met. Love from those still here can certainly prove to be a lifeline which we all grasp hold of. There will be, without a doubt, days of darkness to navigate in solitude. Days where your heart is sore with loss and nothing seems capable of soothing. Again, I come back to Van Gogh's quote.

Love is a fickle creature, of a certainty. It is also that which lifts us, transports us to joyous bliss, fills us up with fizzing delight, warms us with a soft, lambent inner glow. We can be pitched into the depths of despair by love, left sprawled on the floor, completely undone and broken. That light...that lamp which Van Gogh identifies as the analogy and symbol of love....it is always there. It may require effort on our part at times to light, or to shelter from whipping winds of change. I daresay we should consider ourselves dutiful stewards of our individual lamps. Without constant care, the lamp can grow dull, can become depleted of sufficient fuel to shine brightly in the darkness.

It is perhaps very simplistic to claim that printing a quote from long ago might have the power to lift the hearts of those reading this blog post. A friend having a challenging day might not feel like being coaxed into a better mood by Van Gogh's perspective. The friend in the midst of fresh, sharp grief and the loss of a loved one might not have the energy to even think about reading a blog post. Others dealing with their own challenges may brush this off as just another blog post full of self-indulgent optimism, hearts and flowers and those inevitable rose-colored glasses that this writer insists on wearing. All of the above have merit. I cannot claim to have miraculous answers or solutions for those who are in the midst of their own personal struggles.

What I can do, however, is reach out in my own personal fashion. I can share the quote above in the sure knowledge that, if it touched my heart and continues to have value for me, most likely it will touch others and inspire. I think that Van Gogh's words are beautiful, full of hope, that they communicate a wish for those reading the words to have courage and believe in the fact that love is eternal.

"...the aspect may change, but not the essence."

We forget, often, in the midst of our personal moments of crisis, that love is an eternal constant. It truly is the most powerful emotion in existence and can banish a crummy day in the twinkling of an eye. Soothing broken hearts obviously requires much more time and effort, but the eternal nature of this emotion, coupled with the healing application of time, is again that one endless constant. How fortunate we are, then, that brilliant minds took time to write personal thoughts for us to read hundreds of years later; to be encouraged, to be inspired, to be gently wrapped in the words of love and brought through those maelstrom moments to calmer shores.

We can believe...and know, for it is true, that our lamp shines brightly.