The Sweet Bitter Whispers

It was as if all of the happiness, all of the magic of this blissful hour had flowed together into these stirring, bittersweet tones and flowed away, becoming temporal and transitory once more. – Herman Hesse

There are money moments in life that are bittersweet. And there are plenty of times in our lives we must “catch and release.” Funny how many times these two concepts intersect.  And many times when we clear away the noise, separate the innocuous, the ancillary and the imperative, and see down to the nitty gritty of it, we can just take a moment.

And so in the hectic of packing (with horrible movers), in dealing with banks and lawyers and sellers, I took a moment to look over each point. And there is was, the sweet bitter.  I said goodbye to all that I thought and dreamed and wanted. Because I really saw what was there.  A house that, in the sort time I lived there, was a nightmare.  From the roof the very first week, to the mold even on that day.

Lets face it, the reality did not measure up to the fantasy. So it is better to shed, and come out of the other side stronger, better, finer, shinier, than to stay in an old. But there must be a goodbye, a salute to the view from the mast bedroom, having a sauna and an amazing all marble bathroom. The adventure of going from backyard swamp to a swimming pool. Chasing a dog around the neighborhood. Finding a snake in the living room, sliding down the stairs countless times, planting my first tree in my first back yard of my first house.

The pride of having my parents over for the first time. Drinking wine outside in the back yard watching the fireflies dance like magic. Planting flowers along the back wall. Walking barefoot in my back yard.  Meeting my cool and wonderful neighbors who turned into wonderful friends. Discovering all the birds that loved that flowers and trees.

Of Dreams and Whispers

My great hope is to laugh as much as I cry; to get my work done and try to love somebody and have the courage to accept the love in return. – Maya Angelou

And as I turn away I hear dreams whispering in my ear as my heart beats to the rhythm of Next. I hear whispers of a new home that is more manageable, less costly. I hear the want of a new back yard and new trees and new beginnings.Whispers of laughter, dinners, conversations with friends, watching movies, and a home that is more comfortable for family and loved ones. I hear whispers of romance and soft kisses, slow music and lazy Sundays. And I know there are many smiles to come. Because when you get still and very quiet within yourself, you can hear God’s voice, whispering, guiding, calming, beckoning. And when I hear that, I know, deep down in my bones, that all will be OK.

And that is the great thing about life: We write our own stories, we can make our own rules. So it doesn’t really matter what mistakes are made, what paths crossed or even who gets the house, the sellers or the bank. Because we get to write the story of our lives. And the story might still be under construction, but that’s OK. Because it’s never too late to change the ending.

The secret is that we must always be curious. Curious about life, love, our friends, strangers, dreams and what’s around the next corner. Always have the courage to keep being curious, to keep seeking, keep asking, keep learning. Adventures are waiting.

Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow. The important thing is not to stop questioning. – Albert Einstein

His iPod

I now know what it is like to find the iPod of a loved one who is gone. We listened to his iPod on car trips, music playing the the background as we talked of life and laughed, and made plans for the future. He told me about his favorite songs, about the artists, the stories of how the songs were written and what they meant to him.

And sometimes we did not talk at all.  Sometimes we just listened, each in our own little part of the world, yet together in our own shared space.

Music is such a personal thing, what you have on a tiny machine. How you cataorize them, which are your favorites, which song off of which albums, which covers of which sings. A snapshot of a person. Right there, on their own playlist, the soundtrack of their life. All the theme songs, sad songs, happy songs, work out songs, driving songs, relaxing songs, break up songs, make love songs….all of it, right there waiting with one word: Play.

And as I lay there in a bubble bath and listened, I cried. It was real, he was real, the love I felt was real, the trust I had was real. Even if the man, the person, no longer exists on this earth.  And it meant something.

And therein lies the comfort.