"Pancakes!!".... and other random musings for the new year

• No matter how how good my intentions are, my purse and my closet will probably always be messy.
• Some days it's Beethoven, some days it's AC/DC. That's just how it goes.
• Even though my desk is always covered with client files, there's guaranteed to be a Southern Living or Food & Wine there, too.
• Could somebody out there please fix this photo so that it fits inside the box outline? Trying to let go of some perfectionist tendencies and just write. The photo can no longer serve as an excuse.
• I find that I put both socks on first, then the shoes. However, I take off one sock and shoe before taking off the other sock and shoe. While I'm sure there's some thrilling psychological interpretation, it just feels better that way. (Brett, this one's for you).
• Explaining to my daughters that their hair color choice is totally up to them (once they get older) - and seeing the reaction - was one of the highlights of my year.
• Shouting "pancakes!" or some other innocuous word, when you really feel the need to curse, is never, ever as satisfying as just saying the curse word. 
• Hand in hand with the "pancakes" item above is my overuse of the word "crap." Used most often when things don't go my way. I've decided it must be an acronym for Christal's Reaction Always Pissy, and I am making an effort to turn that around in 2012.
• Just because I don't repost your status on my Facebook page, it doesn't mean I don't like you, or that I don't support your cause, or agree with your opinion. It's the Facebook version of "if you don't forward this email to 20 people in 20 minutes, you will have bad luck" routine, and is equally annoying.
• Instead of writer/professional chef/perfumier (is that really a word), I find most of my days consumed with work, driving kids, homework, laundry, more driving, more laundry, more work. I prefer to see it as background training (even though I never realized it would last this long). Whatever else it may be, it's also my version of saving the world in small ways every day.

Happy 2012.

Until

On Love...

Sometimes you have to kiss a few frogs before you find one that makes you forget he's a frog.

2011

Somewhere
In a corner
Under all the shards of promises broken
And words not spoken
Under the rubble of hurt hopes and dead dreams

It beats again.

Faint, at first
But steady.
Transparent with expectation
And ready to leap.
          
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Until

Things that matter, things that don't

So hard to keep that in perspective.

What matters? How I feel, what I'm willing to give, how I react to what is given back. It matters that I'm true to my own heart, my own soul. That I love freely and deeply. That I give all of myself.

What doesn't? The past. Things that aren't mutual (i.e., it doesn't matter what I want if that's not what he wants). No amount of me wanting or wishing or pushing is going to change that. Also, things that aren't said or aren't done. While nice, maybe, they really don't matter.

What matters is what is happening now, what happens today. Time shared. I can choose to be fully in that moment and drink it up through every pore, or I can choose to miss out by worrying about what is not. Seems so obvious, doesn't it? Yet so many of us miss out on the miracles of what we have by always wanting something else.

Until

The Photo, Explained (or why I am the way I am)

Easter Sunday, 2009

I spent Easter in NC this year, in the house where I grew up. Easter was my mother's very favorite holiday, and spending it there has been difficult since she passed away. I think about my mother all the time, and I've often wondered how it would be if she were still here. What would she think of me? Of my life? Of my children? Sometimes, I just want to talk to her, or for her to just reach out and let me know things will be OK.

When I was a little girl, I was very fond of picking wild violets. They were my favorite flower. I was always bringing in hands full when spring came around. My sweet mother would always make a big deal of it, and would say "oh, let me get the special violet vase." She would get out this tiny little blue glass pitcher (that typically held toothpicks) and would show me how to pinch the stems so that they would all fit well. She would put it on the table at dinner and brag about how I'd brought her flowers. One of those really good memories for me. I have looked and looked for this little pitcher over the years, and I finally found it this weekend, on Easter Sunday, no less. Just in time for the violets to be in bloom. Needless to say, it came home with  me, full of violets.

Until

I'm fine, thanks...

I guess this is as good a place as any to start.

How many times have you answered, "I'm fine, thanks," when someone asked you how you were doing? Countless, if you're anything like me. In the South, especially, we're trained from birth to answer that way. No one wants to hear us go on about our aches and pains, or air our dirty laundry about the family, the in-laws, trouble at the workplace. So we put on our best smile, square off our shoulders and say, "I'm fine." And there's absolutely nothing wrong with that.

Have you ever stopped to ponder how many of those "I'm fine's" are actually covering something much more serious? It could be illness recently diagnosed, illness suspected, illness in a family member, death of a loved one, a broken heart, a broken marriage, a troubled child, a troubled friend, loss of a job, money trouble. Each of us, at one time or another, carries a burden that we try to keep hidden from the world. A burden that, during the darkest moments, threatens to crush our very spirit. Yet we bravely plod on, and smile and say "I'm fine." We say "I'm fine" when all we really want to do is throw a tantrum, or cry, or pout, or just sit down and say "I give up." A testament to the human spirit prevailing.

I think, though, that sometimes those losses just need to be acknowledged, even if it is in the smallest, unspoken way. Whatever it is that someone is going through is a great loss to that person at that time in his or her life. "It" deserves attention, conscious or subconscious. So the next time you run into an acquaintance and spout out the obligatory "how are you," pay attention. Look into the person's eyes, give them a genuine smile, a pat on the arm. Hold the door, hold the elevator, give up your seat, buy their coffee. You never know when the smallest gesture could make all the difference to the person masking a dark hour with "I'm fine."

The Dalai Lama put it best. "Be kind whenever possible. It's always possible."

Until