Tagged: puttingwordstogether

Is there anything better for the soul than affirmation? It makes you feel all bubbly and weird; a champagne flutter of silly goodness. Hard to keep your feet on the ground when your mind is percolating and fizzing with good feeling. Affirmation is best when it’s made up of little things: a spontaneous embrace from a usually non-romantic loved one; a genuine glad-to-see-you smile from a child; a positive and unexpected comment from your boss on the work you’ve been doing; an exclamation of wonder over something you’ve created. My good friend Debbie was here last week during my family-free...

I read Post Secret via my RSS feed every Sunday. Sometimes I can’t relate to some of the secrets that are posted, but most of the time I am touched, moved, amused or saddened by the things that people confess to. This one, posted today, struck me cold and silent for a moment. Isn’t this SO TRUE? I can’t grasp it either. I can’t fathom the fact that I won’t live forever. Can you? We talked about it a bit at book group on Thursday night, though the central focus was, of course, on books, and the central anguish in...

Liz: *grimacing at Martin* YOU! Get in bed! *stands up and zombie chases him into his bedroom* Martin: *laughs all the way* Liz: BED! NOW! Martin: I’m not scared of you! I’ve got a…*looks wildly around, grabs the first thing at hand* …a BOOK! Liz: *stops short, puts hands on hips, mocks* oooo…knowledge is scary! Liz & Martin: *giggle madly* I’ve been thinking about trying to write a post a day for, I don’t know…a week? A month? The whole year? I don’t think it will happen, though, and I’ve actually come to the conclusion that I get more comments...

Why are we friends? We’re so different! You come from another state, another country, another culture. You’re older than me; you’re younger. You’re religious, and you—you’re political. You’ve made choices in your life that I can’t fathom. You’ve had things happen to you that I can’t relate to. You’ve done things I couldn’t or wouldn’t or wish I dared to do. You don’t have any children. You have too many. You don’t want any. You’ve got a baby; your kids are grown. You believe in things I could never swallow. You believe in things that go against my grain. You...

Once upon a time. Once. Really? Only once? Those words denote the beginning of a story but do you see how they hold the end in their hands? It was but it is no longer. Once it was, but now, it’s not. Once but never again. I wonder who used the words for the first time and if they knew what a weight they were investing them with. If we dwell too long or too often on what once was, how can we enjoy what we have now? What to do? How to capture and hold those ephemeral onces in...

It’s funny how envy works. Listening to the good news of a friend makes me envious sometimes. Not in the sense that I wish it were MY news, but just in the sense that I wish I had news, too. Even when you have things just fine, excellent in fact, it’s a weird feeling to find yourself envious of someone else. Not because you want whatever it is they have going on, but because they’re so excited about it and that feeling of excitement is such a rush that you are reminded of how fun it is. It’s much easier...

Bring up moving in conversation and it jump-starts things. People either love to do it or hate it with a passion, it seems. Even talking about packing and/or unpacking in conjunction with a trip raises all sorts of sympathetic flutters and groans of compassion. I’ve always liked packing and unpacking. There’s something very Christmassy about it. When it’s for a trip, packing is like wrapping up presents to give to yourself during vacation or traveling. And when it’s for moving, unpacking is all about opening great big boxes of presents you haven’t seen in awhile, and giving yourself the gift...