Orchid

Double Nickels

Fifty five years ago, I entered my family's world with a spanking and a cry. Since then, life has continued along pretty much the same way. Thrills, spankings and cry's.

Intermingled amongst the innumerable joys of precious, unforgettable life shaping moments, has been the spankings, equally life shaping. They sometimes came clearly as the consequence of choices, but more often the lashings have merely been the result of being alive, an imperfect person in an imperfect world.

I have cried. When I didn't get my way, when something hurt, when I was sad, I cried. Sometimes the cry was more of a scream of frustration or a fist shaking yell, to no one listening, and better for it to have been that way.

In the beginning I didn't know anything about anything, but I learned some stuff.
In the early middle I didn't know what I thought I knew, but I learned some stuff.
In the middle middle I didn't know very much about very much, but I learned some stuff.
In the later middle, where I think I am now, I don't know a lot about a lot, but I know a lot about some stuff, and look forward to learning a lot more about a lot more stuff.

Those things that I was working toward early on, don't look the same in the rear view as they did looking forward from that point where I started. What I thought life might look like when I got to be age fifty five, has proven to be only slightly as it in fact is.

The spankings that I thought I would not live through, temporarily confused my forward motion, but permanently, positively altered my direction, pointing my feet toward today.

The best thing I have learned on this brisk trip through life up until now, is how to stop.

Stop fussing about somebody else's failures, I am not responsible for them. I only hurt myself twice when I do that, once when the infraction occurs, and a second time when I mull it over and allow it to continue to steal again, my joy and peace.

Stop letting circumstances dictate to me what I can and cannot do. I can take steps to change the circumstances that bind me.

Stop sabotaging my happiness and success with preconceived notions. When things don't work the way I hoped, or even the way I carefully planned, so what, I love lemonade!

These "stops" are good, and I am thankful for the lessons that spankings and crying have taught. But the very, very, very best stop that I have learned, the one that makes the most room for the thrills, is to literally, stop to enjoy life!

I have a vase of flowers on the piano that I stop to smell.
I make a point to stop what I am doing at work, to have a gaze at the ocean.
I stop thinking my own thoughts to be able to listen to someone else's in a conversation.
I stop to get my camera for a picture of anything that catches my eye.

I take pictures of the sun through the kitchen window creating a tiny reflection of light on an apple, or pictures of an insect close up. With a picture on the big screen of my computer I see detail that I did not know existed, appreciating intricacies that I would not otherwise even know should be appreciated. I do not like bugs, in fact quite the opposite, but seeing them up close and large I am fascinated with the God of the universe who cared to put those details on something of such little significance to me, something that I would normally pay no attention to, except possibly to get away from, quickly!

I am not usually wrapped up in something so important that I cannot stop to take a few minutes or even just a few seconds, to enjoy the simple things that are right there, easily and readily available for enjoyment.

I am going to stop right now to get ready for dinner with a sweet friend, even though my floors need to be mopped, I have to go grocery shopping, and tomorrow I work. Through these fifty five years of commitments and tasks, I have learned that they will wait for me, but people, like time, will not.

I would like to glide through the rest of life with no more spankings and no more crying, but then I would have to give up the thrills too. Aliveness encompasses them all, that is a good thing, I like being alive. It means I get more time to stop long enough to extract the treasure of the moment.

There is great value in these double nickels. Much has been invested and the returns are out of this world!

~~*~~

I was given a gift
of uncommon quality
a one-of-a-kind offering
unique to only me

prone to great increase
when invested properly
a gift that keeps on giving
and grows in rarity

I dare not neglect
to appreciate the worth
of this valuable treasure
given me since birth

I must not squander
even a tiny bit
but protect and fully utilize
all of it

as my privileged obligation
'till the day I die
is to wisely use
this precious gift of life

P.J.

I Got Tail-Wagged

Oh my goodness! What happened? My friend's uneasy eyes were focused on the deep blue black bruise on the back of my thigh. Because of its proximity behind me, out of my normal range of vision, I had nearly forgotten about it. At least that is, unless I was sitting with a chair edge pressing on it to remind me.

A couple of days earlier during a visit with my son and daughter-in-law and two grand-babies, I got tail-wagged. They share their home with a large dog, Dozer, a fine four footed pal. He enjoys his human family and their guests with exuberant paw prancing and tail wagging.

That tail of his whipped my bare skin like a wound up damp towel in the hand of a fourteen year old brother. I felt the sting but didn't think much of it. Continuing to feel the sting a minute or so later I reached down to rub it out and was startled to feel a large lump at the point of the sting. Looking, I was even more startled to see where my leg indeed had swollen and was bruising.

I did what doctors always say to do in such a circumstance, apply a cold compress. In this case it was my grandson's chilled juice pouch. I sat for fifteen minutes or so, as the juice pouch provided relief for the stinging and reduced the swelling, it proved highly effective.

By the time my friend spotted the unsightly evidence of my frailty, the bruise was at its worst. It did look like I had been involved in some sort of dreadful accident, but no, I simply wore the proof of an excited k-9.

For a few days it was a reminder of how something as small as that one bruise on the back of my leg, can have so big an influence on the rest of my body. It demanded a lot of my attention and would not let me forget it was there.

I was careful when I sat and when I moved at night, even when half asleep. I was conscious of what I would wear for the day, making sure that if I would be out in public, that part of my leg could not be seen. It was not a pleasant sight, no one should have been unwittingly subjected to the same uneasiness my friend experienced at seeing it.

I thought about how my body's built-in healers sounded the alarm, like the siren of a volunteer fire department house, summoning the special ops team to the emergency, immediately getting to work minimizing and repairing the damage, and how this human body is a fascinating thing.

An ever so faint shadow remains now after a couple of weeks. That too will fade away completely. But this seemingly insignificant experience produced thoughts that are so applicable to living and being alive. How one thing, even a seemingly insignificant thing, one look, one word, one slight wrong move, has the potential to become so much bigger than ever thought possible, for harm or for good. And, though I am only one person, I should never underestimate my God given, God encouraged potential, and should bare in mind that same potential for every one person. Remembering also, that like my bruise, one person has the potential to inflict harm and damage that the whole is effected by, and that when the whole rallies to the aid of the harmed or damaged, healing ensues. One, but not alone, is the DNA of our divine design.

I could have done without the tail wagging as far as the discomfort and unsightliness goes, but the thoughts inspired by the incident are keepers. Those two life ingredients demand attention, and when attention is given, potential produces.

In the future, I will make a better effort to stay near the front end of Dozer, having been once wagged. I will also probably think about all the thoughts that tail wagging prompted. I will pat his head and scratch his ears and say to him, "good boy Dozer, good boy".