Notes Turns Two


I almost forgot Ponder’s birthday – Mother’s Day 2012, my daughter sent me an email asking that I log in to a wordpress account. Never having heard of wordpress, knowing only that she had my complete trust, I obliged by clicking on the link and entering our trusty old family code word to pass the gates of ho-hum into “where have you been all my life?”.

I can’t take credit for my first post – it met me at my wordpress gate,  posted by my daughter based on a story I told her a few days earlier. It stoically boasts one “like” and seventy five “views”.

https://notestoponder.wordpress.com/2012/05/14/transactions-of/

My daughter claimed there was far too much rattling about my head and I needed an outlet. Wading cautiously forward, I had the advantage of exploration – no expectations, preconceived ideas, or notion of grandeur. I wasn’t plotting a path of clicks and views, didn’t contemplate strategies aimed at monetary gain or methodically increase my presence. My “about” page, kept brief, vague and on point – simply a post a day, something to think about, talk about, learn more about. Reluctant to divulge personal information, self consciously I began to write for the first time in thirty years.

Shaky at first, not sure where it would take me, I posted meat and potatoes snippets I found fascinating. Clinging to my knowledge of ancient history – Gobekli Tepe, Derinkuyu, Peri Reis, Hypogeum of Malta, and Mica lined Pyramid of the Sun. Terrified I might be “pegged” a bat shit alien conspirator or crystal fondling numerologist, I tested the waters of space weather wing nut by posting on the Carrington Event, meteor showers, and to cascading groans of my family – solar flare alerts.

Six months later, not a soul outside my family knew about my blog. One night, well into a bottle of wine I found the courage to hit “publish” on something terrifying – a personal story. I held my breath, briefly paralyzed by second thoughts. None the least of which – it wasn’t particularly well written. I’ve left it alone, resisting the urge to fuss and polish the rather childish story because it was the turning point. I relaxed, told friends about my blog and never looked back.

https://notestoponder.wordpress.com/2012/11/28/regret/

I never know what I’m going to write, don’t apologize for who I am and care little for pointless mud slinging. What astounds and warms the tip of my toes are the remarkable people I’ve met along the way. I consider myself lucky to have found a little rut to run in. People who know me only through wordpress likely know me better than those who have known me for years. This is who I am – I’ve grown immeasurably in two years and can only daydream of where it will take me. Thank you wordpress.

 

Mother’s Day Letter


With Mother’s Day on the horizon, I wanted to re-post this from last year.

notestoponder

I couldn’t settle upon tonight’s ponder until I commented on a post by wordpresser sakshivashist. Her words allowed me to remember a letter I had written to my mother as she was packing for a move across the country.

http://cruisingthroughmylife.wordpress.com/2013/04/20/behind-locked-doors/

With Mother’s Day just around the corner, rather than ponder, I decided to share. We seem to forget that mothers, fathers, grandparents, and siblings are all people – just like us, and doing the best they can. Instead of building impossible expectations based on story book characters, lets all take a moment to see the people in our lives as beautifully flawed. The characteristic that makes us interesting, and gives dimension to what would otherwise be a flat, predictable world.

 

When I sat down to write this I thought about writing a thank you , I love you, and will miss you note. While all those are true, and…

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Just One of Those Days


We all have them; one of those days when everything goes sideways. Maybe I’m just tired – without question work was a comedy of errors today. Facing the prospect of pulling off a wedding tomorrow doesn’t help much. Who gets married on Mother’s Day? Working on mother’s day is irrelevant, in my line of work I’m rarely home on holidays, I’m the one out there making everyone else’s splendid memories. This isn’t a complaint, rather a sticky note to myself.

When I find myself driving my hand into the car horn while screaming “what is wrong with you”, it’s time to chill out. To be clear and get it off my chest – what kind of inconsiderate jerk aggressively blocks you from changing lanes; then when he gains the car length in front of you puts on his signal light to change into the lane you are trying to leave? Holy crap. It’s rush hour and I spend another 5 minutes behind this asshole. And no – he didn’t signal until I was firmly planted behind his crazy ass mini van.

I wasn’t a very nice person today. I caught myself giving the snake eye to thoughtless, manner-less people, so absorbed in their sense of entitlement it didn’t cross their minds that taking a plate with six chicken breasts meant some guests wouldn’t have lunch. I believe my lip may actually have curled into a snarl as I watched them toss their greed into the garbage bin. Under normal circumstances I would shake my head (discretely and with up most decorum) as well healed ladies stuffed cheese platters into their $2000.00 dollar handbags. My staff would have laughed along; we’re a twisted bunch who understand money can’t deliver any quality you’re not born with. We trade astounding stories of flagrant stupidity and crass behaviour – but not today.

Today was one of those days when you ask yourself if you need your head examined. A day when screaming what is wrong with you could just as easily apply to yourself. A day when being accommodating and gracious flies out the window. A day when listening to Sweet Jane by Cowboy Junkies seems to be the only thing able to soothe my ragged nerves.

Give it a listen.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BHRFZFmEq9o&list=FLVPdt-VmlGlrdJYm8A1bYAQ

Mother’s Day Letter


I couldn’t settle upon tonight’s ponder until I commented on a post by wordpresser sakshivashist. Her words allowed me to remember a letter I had written to my mother as she was packing for a move across the country.

http://cruisingthroughmylife.wordpress.com/2013/04/20/behind-locked-doors/

With Mother’s Day just around the corner, rather than ponder, I decided to share. We seem to forget that mothers, fathers, grandparents, and siblings are all people – just like us, and doing the best they can. Instead of building impossible expectations based on story book characters, lets all take a moment to see the people in our lives as beautifully flawed. The characteristic that makes us interesting, and gives dimension to what would otherwise be a flat, predictable world.

 

When I sat down to write this I thought about writing a thank you , I love you, and will miss you note. While all those are true, and go without saying, I find myself at a loss for words ,which doesn’t happen very often.

I laughed, realizing how appropriate it is, for both of us that clarity is now the dish served cold. On second thought it is presumptuous of me to assume that your clarity is as stone cold. I would be selling you short if I lumped your seemingly endless capacity to take a hit in with my new found acceptance of who I was and why I was so happy.

It’s important that you understand – you make me happy. My thank you is for making me different. For opening my eyes, for making me think, question and imagine. You planted a little seed, so long ago. Sometimes you forgot to water it, sometimes it almost died, in the end, your kindness patience, and nurturing paid off. It took most of a lifetime, yet it finally bloomed.

You had so many dreams. You pictured your life differently. You had no idea you were going to grow the perfect flower. Thank you for making me bloom, for creating something special. We’re so much alike. We’ve both made mistakes that at times crush us with their weight. I forgive you, as you have forgiven me. What’s more important is I’ve forgiven myself; you have to do the same. You need to know that there is at least one person who understands all your dusty little corners. You need to know how beautiful they are when the sunlight hits them. I doubt what I have become would have been possible without your dust bunnies in my flower pot.

Thank you for stumbling and picking yourself up. Thank you for getting a little crazy at times, and for never going completely mad. Thank you for standing by me at the darkest of times, and believing I would pull through. Thank you for hardly ever rolling your eyes when I talk politics or aliens. Thank you for teaching me that Red Winged Blackbirds only nest in bulrushes. You planted a magic bean, instead of a beanstalk, you grew me.

I couldn’t be happier. I’m going to miss you so much. I can’t imagine life without you nearby.