Life, Liberty & the Pursuit

posts about the challenges and joys of every day life

Don’t Wait for the Storm to Pass

We all have challenges in life whether it is just getting through a bad day or getting through months of illness or a lifetime of grief. Our mission is to learn to dance in the rain. But dance in the rain doesn’t necessarily mean to literally dance.

In KM Huber’s blog, Aim for Even, she talks about how we humans try to stay in one moment even though that is impossible to do. Her dance in the rain is to be present.

Marie Forleo gives advice on how to Find the Courage to Keep Going When You Feel Like Giving Up in this short video.

How can you learn to dance in the rain? Find that one thing you love and give yourself a few minutes just connecting to that thing you love. For me, if I spend a few minutes writing each day I’ve just danced in the rain. Another way I dance is to listen to beautiful music from one of my favorite groups, like Pentatonix.

So if your life is a storm that takes your breath away, take a moment for yourself. If you’ve used that moment reading this blog I can only say I am honored. If you share something of how you dance in the rain in the comments below, I am blessed. Thank you.

Image courtesy of Heather on Flickr Creative Commons

 

 

Do You Need a Break?

Photo of man & boy planning grocery listIs your summer as busy as your fall and winter? Are you scurrying around running the kids to one event or another? Or maybe you’re frantically preparing for visiting family members, or going to visit family, or going on vacation. Do you need a vacation from your vacation?

I’m here to remind you to take some restorative time. A break. It doesn’t have to last a long time. What it must be is something that gives you a lift.

Music does it for me. Doesn’t matter what my mood was before the music starts, music well-played, will carry me away. It speaks to the me tucked away inside. It lifts me up, stirs my feet, brings a tear, and fills my heart.

Treble cleft and notes

Apparently the expressiveness of music is nearly universal. Why does music make us feel emotional? According to this article in the Scientific American it isn’t really music that makes us feel. It’s other humans. Yup. You, me, him, her. The expressiveness of a human being, something you’ve felt yourself or seen expressed by someone else. Wait. Music isn’t human, you say. No, but music is something that can be manipulated to be expressive, humanly expressive, and that tickles a memory, a feeling.

Music doesn’t do it for everyone. For some it’s the sound of a well-tuned engine racing down the track. Others are swept away by the beauty of Monet or van Go gh or Picasso. A passage in a book can stir one’s emotions or evoke an image that moves us. No matter if it’s the notes of a bullfrog, the trill of a nightingale, the sweeping vistas of a prairie, or the majesty of mountains, it’s reaching the most human place inside you.

As I said, music does it for me. I’d like to share all my favorites with you, but that would take hours and hours and hours. Instead, let me share just one today. Take a listen.

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If the link to the video doesn’t work, try this link.

There’s a place, a sound, where you find joy and solace and restoration.Where do you find a moment for yourself? Won’t you share? Please only post one link per comment so the bot doesn’t put your comment in the spam box. And thank you for taking time to read and comment.

 

 

SuMan and son planning grocery list image via configmanager on Flickr
Musical Notes Image via Clipart Panda

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More than a Game

Lynette M Burrows, spooky apple orchard,When I was a child, about eight- or nine-years-old, my mother went to the hospital to have her third child. My brother and I were packed off to an aunt and uncle’s house. Now, this aunt and uncle had five children. The two oldest were off to college. The two youngest were about the same age as my brother and I. The middle child was a teenager, uninterested and uninvolved in the lives of children.

My aunt and uncle lived in an old farmhouse that had been updated. There was an attic with two bedroom spaces, each holding a pair of bunk beds. The second-floor held four more bedrooms. A living room, kitchen, dining room, and den made up the first floor. And there was a basement, the realm of the children. The basement had several rooms of bookcases and cabinets and a door to the outside.

Outside was a wonder. A  grape arbor and an orchard gave us plenty of room to be rowdy kids running around.

The three boys and I invented an adventure game. Being the only girl, I was the heroine or the damsel in distress, depending upon the turn of the play. The boys were the heroes and occasional victims. The evil villain was invisible, an unknown who left threatening notes. We dashed in and out of the basement, zig-zagged through the spooky fruit trees and grabby grape vines, uncovered clues and threatening notes, did heroic deeds, and wore ourselves out with fun.

Lynette M Burrows, grabby grape vines, Heather Hopkins

I’m certain we had quieter activities after a filling evening meal, but I don’t remember those. I do remember climbing upstairs to the attic bedroom, into the lower bunk, and falling fast asleep.

I woke gasping for air. Ice cold hands were around my throat, choking me! I couldn’t see who the cloaked villain was but screamed for help. The three boys rushed to the room and pounded the villain with their fists. Lights came on, the villain disappeared. I sobbed my tale of fear to my aunt and uncle.

The boy heroes identified the dastardly villain as my teen-aged cousin. He was punished. I was soothed. The visit was short (probably not to my aunt and uncle). My brother and I went home and welcomed our new baby sister.

Today, I feel bad for my teenaged cousin. He took the game a little too far, perhaps, yet, the choking was minimal and momentary, or I wouldn’t have been able to scream.  Looking back, I was frightened, but the fright was temporary.  I have a fun-to-tell memory, my brother and cousins got to be real heroes, and I got a story, two blog posts, and a novel out of the adventure!

What do you recall fondly? Childhood memories? Adventures as a Teen? Trials and Tribulations of being an adult? Any lessons you learned from these? Please share your story below in the comments below.

 

Images: “Vines at Dusk” via  Flickr Creative Commons, courtesy of Heather Hopkins.

“Spooky Apple Orchard” via Flickr Creative Commons, courtesy of R. L. Rose