Gratitude...and no regrets~

Sometimes God brings people into our lives, that irrevocably change us….remind us of things we have forgotten….teach us…..awaken life in us….and love us ---just as we are.

And in those once in a lifetime moments, God brings that person into our life, that will hold our hand as we journey down a truly dark road, tunneling our way towards the light—which surely does await at the end. That one who gently reassures us with a warm embrace and a calming, kind word of affirmation and encouragement (because He knew we would need that love “with skin on”—to see ourselves anew as the warrior/princess/goddess divine rock stars that we are).

I am grateful for walking this road with a beautiful one…and for seeking understanding on our journeys. I am thankful to surround myself with those who want my good…and challenge me to be the best me I know how to be—and to be constantly raising my awareness of WHO I AM….by trying new things….delighting in all things good…and hoping in the healing things that are eternal.

This morning, I saw you—quite possibly for the first time….and accepted you (with joy) as you are….right where you are….with a wealth of nothing but love in my heart—for your good…and for endless grace, outpouring over your life.

I realized all this time, I had felt you slipping…felt you dying….tried to kill you off and leave you behind, buried--when really, I just want you to LIVE, abundant and free. In peace, and wisdom. Surrounded by grace and TRUTH.

I love you, my most beautiful friend.

I SEE YOU.

And I am grateful to walk this world with you as we seek our own paths….and to be known, and to be loved….daily.

We go~

I said...No R!!! ~

So....I have been wanting to talk about this ever since I first titled and got the website/domain for my beloved blog : Ponopeople….. yes, that's Ponopeople---without an “R”!

As time has gone by, a friend showed me how you can track where most of the traffic comes from in views of the blogsite. It is amazing to see hits coming in from all over the world….France, Germany, Turkey, even Russia—as well as the good ole’ US of A. The feature even gives you the names of the sites referring links to my page. It is amazing to think of really, how it all connects from one golden thread to another in this vast internet world.

It is not, however, amazing, when I come across referral sites where the search words/titles alone are enough to render me speechless, and bring my face aflame…. "blushing" being a huge understatement. The only explanation I can render for how these eye-popping, incongruous site/ google searches to find their way to me…is that blasted “R” they add---oh that one degree of separation….but how important that one degree is!

I have to admit, I got discouraged and saddened, especially at first when I saw this trend. But then, I thought, perhaps that is God’s, the Universe’s, (insert your choice/option here__________’s) way of getting these shady searches to a site with a whole lot more satisfying sweetness to offer than where they were previously prowling—and one with substance that sustains~

Yes, I confess... I used to get frustrated, and even angry thinking of it all, but now I have to admit I get a bit of a kick in imagining the disgruntled looks on those faces…the utter disappointment of unmet expectations…when my G-rated (no pun intended, I assure you) site greets them.

So, just to reiterate…that is PONOPEOPLE, people!!!….WITHOUT AN R…

*Oi vey...

~Sunrise Slap~

Yesterday was a tough day.

It was a long day.

As I drove home, I got stuck in traffic---for hours.

Once I stepped through my door…nearing 11pm…my neighbors were having a Par-tay, people…*and the music was pumpin’…(mm tizz mm tizz)

Upwards of 3am….the music has finally died down…replaced now by sliding scales of slurred speeches---yes, those lovely, drunken “conversations” (ah….I used that term loosely) to act as my evening (ah…..morning?) lullabies.

Not one single wink do I sleep. *boo….

My usual 5am alarm doesn’t even have time to yell…I am up and waiting for it’s siren scream….nebulously greeting this neverending day.

Lacing my shoes up, one sleep-deprived step sluggishly scuffles after the other…I pray I will not, in this new and unbeforeseen version of sleeprunning, veer into oncoming headlights like a drunken, drowsy deer----or wind up wading into the ocean waves—drowning in a most dramatic (and ridiculous) rendition of my own Edna Pontellier….

I am pretty far gone…I feel it. WOW.

What day is it, again?

And, MAN! am I GRUMPY.

Sensing my “Eeyore aura,” I want to run away from my own abysmal black cloud of bad attitude.

A prickly porcupine, pounding the pavement---I crest that next hill, thinking: “Dangit, and I have to drive to the airport tonight too….” *Cue the rain and thunderbolt, and batten down that hatch, Piglet!…

That's when it happens--- WHAM! I get slapped right in the face….

Not with a real hand (mind you, I probably deserved it at that particular, piti-full moment!)…but rather with this sight:

*and awareness anew--- of smallness.

Smallness of myself…and the similar size of what little I have to grumble about….

Stripes~

Over the years, I have dedicated entire posts (yes, that is the plural form--with an S) to a myriad of “fluff” subjects including (but oh! not limited to)… glitter makeup, cupcakes, crayons, hairstyles, bicycle BFF’s, and even spent a second paying homage to the bygone fashions of the electric 80’s. On the surface, these topics may seem silly and non-important. Yet, when I dig deeper, and truly delve into the depths and richness of what they symbolize to my own psyche (and I bet to many of yours as well,) I discover that they stand for so much more.

Whether it be the summoning of sweet memories from the past, the idea of a return to an innocence of earlier days, or retaining with reckless abandon that youthful exuberance and unfettered joy we wildly wielded as children---turning my thoughts towards (and poising my pen over paper for) these images always brings a gladness and quickening to my spirit. I feel more alive, and awake.

So, yesterday evening, in light of these revelations, as yet another thunderous, tropical island storm beat at my doorstep and threatened my mood, I decided to chase the clouds of gray away by coloring my world—and adding some sassy stripes in the process! I painted my nails….oooh so pretty~

I realize lately that rain often creates a predisposition for me to be more prone to analytical emotions….pensive thought processes abound under the dark skies, and I will often find myself trapped inside with only my mind to keep me company-- its whirring and whizzing through scenarios that somehow always end up with me dissecting myself bit by bit, and left wanting. I felt this process kick into motion as the clouds rolled in over the mountains---felt the rush of emotions rise within me—but this time, rather than succumbing to these sadness-twinged inklings, I rebelled! And, reaching for the polish, I chose two colors that meant something to me….black and white. Because, on a day of gray, I still can remember that there is absolute truth…that the yin and yang of the darkness and light very much create beauty and contrast—and that by stripes I am healed….

Mahalo, Martin Luther King Jr~

Aloha this day, spent in celebration and remembrance of a man of true integrity and principle, who once shared his beautiful wisdom and keen insight with the world, declaring:

“I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. This is why right, temporarily defeated, is stronger than evil triumphant."

Mahalo, Martin Luther King, Jr. for opening our eyes, and courageously carrying your message of love and light to the nations~

Color Your World~

I love coloring. I don’t exactly even know why, I just do. Maybe it’s something of nostalgia, whispering of times remembered---lying in the light streaming through the "skylight" of our sun-dappled yard, as I filled the spaces between my Rainbow Brite’s cosmic costume and the background of flowers and sky—all with a brilliant kaleidoscope of color. I even remember the smell of the freshly mown grass, the musky scent of the morning’s dew still clinging to my shoeless feet, and my mama’s towering tulip trees, just shady enough to create momentary reprieves from the sun’s welcomed embrace.

My sisters and I would spend hours in Susan Miller’s garden, pretending and dreaming up what our lives would be, and what we wanted to be when we grew up. I, of course, would be Rainbow Brite, naturally. I don’t remember what Meredith and Britainy aspired to exactly, but I am sure it was just….amazing.

Then we would inevitably ask the burning question to decide all questions: “If you were a crayon color, what would you be?!?!?!” My six year old self, not at this stage bogged down by any need for rationale or reason behind my answer(s) in life, would simply look at the colors splayed out on the sunny lawn, and choose exactly which shade I felt at that particular moment. Some days the bright, cheery ones would beckon to me---yellows, hot pinks and flourescents. Other days I was drawn by the dulled, soothing pastels---pretty and non-imposing, they somehow were just right. Or the cool colors---those violet, blue and green jewel tones that calmed, yet had enough character to not lull me into a complete coma.

But most of the time, it was the names that attracted me…that lit something within me—a recognition of sorts, within my very self. GRAY was one I almost never let out of the box (my happy-go-lucky lil’ personage would shudder at even the thought!) CERULEAN was a common favorite—sending imaginings of swirling and swimming through a deep, blue sea. PERIWINKLE sounded like “twinkle”—and who wouldn’t be happy when they think of the word twinkle? RAZZMATAZZ brought with it an attitude and outrageousness---maybe it was all the zzzzzzzzzz’s that were also so fun to me. SHAMROCK—for the days when I felt extra impish, elven—or wanted to pay homage to my enlivened Irish roots. TICKLE ME PINK would occasionally be the choice du jour (although tickling was strictly kept to days when I was in especially good humor—otherwise, don’t touch me!)—because then I would become SCREAMIN’ GREEN!

Yes, I have fond memories of those color-full days in the backyard with my sisters…and still to this day, at the ripe old age of (whispers)…. 29…. (pause for a moment of reverent silence here_____________), I still reach for that coloring book and continue to ask myself about the future. But now, rather than what I want to be—it is a query into who I want to be.

I believe I will forever, by shades and degrees, be answering this....so stay tuned….and go color your world~

Lions, and Tigers, and BACHELORS (oh my...)~

One (alpha) male.

Twenty five tigresses.

Trailing vines, entwined with red roses.

Preening Peacocks.

Alligator tears.

Venomous snakes.

Hunters.

Prey.

Oh, the carnage!

*And we, separated from it all by the relative safety of a glossy, glass screen….we are the ringleaders~

It’s a zoo out there…crowded with creatures who cannot seem to save themselves---walking right into the jaws of certain death---yet unafraid and eerily swaying to the hypnotic tune of Disney’s dancing dream---of Cinderella, and Prince Charming—and all the unrealistic ugliness that lies in-between.

An animal filled circus—it is hard to look away. But admission ain’t cheap—and will end up costing us everything we are.

And, until we reach up and grab that remote, and stop fueling the madness—the show must go on~

Your Move~

So I’ve been getting more and more into playing chess these days. I actually used to play often, and had just yet to return to it after several years of boardgame fasting (too many SORRY!!! flashbacks from my tortured, younger sibling days, perhaps??) But, however I got back to this intricate pastime, I am certainly glad that I have.

I remember the time in my life when I was first introduced to chess. My eldest sister was dating a kind man, who took this little, 10-year-old, “mini-Meredith” tagalong and not only allowed me to be their shadow as they made their way around all the cool and hip coffeeshop circuits of the Black Mountains, but he took it a step further and would teach me chess (and proceed to let me win shamelessly---although I did not know it at the time).

I remember fondly the exhilarating feeling of painstakingly planning each move, steam practically surging from my ears as I concentrated—channeling all of the rules and strategies he had shared. How I wanted to show him I was listening, and using wisely the tools he had given me! (and yes, I wanted to beat him too, of course....)

I can see myself now, as I’d set up my moves-always staying two steps ahead—the inner cogs of my brain whirring and reeling as he countered—forced to reassess and roll onward in forward motion. Some days were dizzying, and I’d feel as if I were walking into a trap that I could not yet see—or that I was missing some crucial part of the puzzle piece hidden from my naked eye. In these instances, it wasn’t until I actually made my move that I would come to realize my mistake—to see what I had missed. I remember how defeated I would feel, and frustration with myself abounded. My shoulders would sag—sometimes (okay, oftentimes) there would be tears (mostly of embarrassment or shame). I somehow saw myself as the young grasshopper letting her Mr. Miyagi down.

Yet, in all these instances, no matter how many ill-planned and foolish moves I would make, I somehow knew I would win…every single time…I came out the victor. I would leave the coffeeshop triumphant—barrelchest puffed up, like a bird preening its pretty feathered form. I like to believe that if it was present day I would have shouted some exultation a la Charlie Sheen as I pumped my fists towards the heavens: WINNING!!!!

Yes, those were some sweet memories. So chess will always have a soft spot in my heart. As I play the game now, I most certainly do not always win on the daily…more often than not, in fact, I get pummeled—my arse handed back to me in a flourish of pride-withering fanfare (yes, my friends here enjoy beating me to a pulp, indeed---but I take it like a champ!)

And in light of this new reality check, I understand that I will not always win every single, separate game. I will most likely continue to make moves that make no sense, and are strategically suicidal…and they will cause me to lose. YET (oh how I love that word!) I also am joyously aware that the entire match, when all the games, missteps and moves are said and done---I still have that someone kind looking over me, who loves me so much—enough to arrange it all--- and I always will win, in the end~

Gratitude abounds, this day—and every day~

It’s your move….

To Change One's Life~

To change one's life:

1. Start immediately.

2. Do it flamboyantly.

3. No exceptions.

~William James~

*We Go*~

Making Moves~

Benjamin Franklin once said:

"We learn by chess the habit of not being discouraged by present bad appearances in the state of our affairs, the habit of hoping for a favourable change, and that of persevering in search of resources."


This coming year, I believe I will see many moves, and fulfill many different roles in my own life.

Some days I will feel like nothing more than a pawn, one among several--tiny, nondescript, and lined up beside my peers with not much expected of me. Yet on these days, I will take my baby steps, slowly and intentionally make my way forward, and at the end of the road, I will have transformed and become a better, more respected, stronger and powerful being. And I will turn around and face the world better equipped to fight to win.

Maybe there will be wondrous rook moments. Seeing the world from a lofty castle view. Taking strides forward at distance and speeds I never knew possible. Feeling important, and moving from side to side and beyond in smooth, fluid flight.

When darkness comes, and hard times cast evening's menacing shadows over me. I will BE the knight. I will jump over hindrances in brave leaps and bounds, arching over all obstacles in an elegant, L-shaped pattern---indicating Life Lived~

The role of bishop will undoubtedly find me on an unlikely path, taking that road less traveled. I will wander off the beaten path, shunning the straight and arrow, in lieu of delicious, diagonal journeys. Routes with no maps, I will go far, back and forth, and make my way still--and I will pray.

I will feel most powerful when I am queen. I will change my mind often, and go where I want. I will not be bound by others' rules and restrictions. I will not allow their limitations to keep me from making my way. I will realize on these days, how valuable I really am--and just how much worth I have...and I will move about the roads of life with confidence and grace--whichever way I choose.

And everyday I will in my innermost being have the role of King. Knowing that every position that I take--every move that I make---every decision in direction---shifts the entire gameplan of my life. I must be wise, and I must be discerning, and these days my one job---is to stay alive-- and let the game go on~