I’m sitting here in the Barnes & Noble Café on Haywood Road with my headphones on listening to relaxing music via Pandora on my Nook.  The headphones allow me to hear my own music, and drown out the loud piped in music supplied by the store.  I’m catching up on my reading of articles in Poets & Writers magazine.  They teach and inspire me.

A few minutes ago two women in their 50s or 60s sat down two tables away from me.  They are speaking in loud voices which intrude on my mind space.  So concentration, even a little concentration is not possible.

Now I hear Frank Sinatra singing My Kind of Town on the store speakers.  I can’t even drown them out by turning my volume all the way up, which could possibly damage my eardrums!

Wait…Frank’s song strikes me as significant to the part of my story of…finding home.  I suspect it is because of the article I just read by Joni Tevis under P&Ws section The Literary Life and titled Getting the Lead Out, about discovering a better essay in the foothills of South Carolina.

Now as I am reading the sub-section Why We Write Michael Bourne telling us that failure is an option.  This one makes me wonder if I should create a new blog of word, phrases, short sentences that have meaning to me…my thoughts, my life, my world, my town, my ongoing search within my heart, soul and spirit.

A good few hours.  Makes me smile.

Check out Joni Tevis and her book The World Is On Fire http://www.jonitevis.com/author.html

and Michael Bourne at http://www.michaelbournewriter.com/new-page-1/

Ann Marquette:

This is painful to read, and so sad that so many feel the same way as “m” yet can’t bring ourselves to put it into our own words. :(

Originally posted on the liminal life of m:

Another school shooting today. 294 mass shootings in 274 days.

My kids learned in kindergarten how to hide under their desks and wait for death.

I’ve spent an hour waiting in the school parking lot after the final bell for lock-down to be lifted so I could take my terrified babies home. Third graders and kindergartners are babies. My babies.

I was in high school for the Columbine Shooting.

The year before someone called in a bomb threat at my school.

I was studying at community college for the Virginia Tech shooting. My physics study group was camped out at the table in the math and physics office wing when we got the news. We went right back to our homework. Our prof chewed the class out that we didn’t stop to grieve for those kids. “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU GUYS?!” he raved. But he still collected our homework…

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Calling Me Home

Originally posted on Ann Marquette:


You opened your arms to welcome me
You spoke as to a friend
You smiled as we passed
Your heart whispered,
As it flowed alongside mine
“Come Home”

Your charm and beauty inspire me
Your soul reaches out and touches me
Your spirit fills me with endless possibilities, and
Calls Me Home

You wrap me in a warm embrace,
As if a long parted lover
You fill me with joy and comfort
A sense deep inside, that you are
Calling Me Home.

© September 11, 2007

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Locking the Door?

Something inspired me to write this a few months ago. Finally decided to post it before my recent writings.

Locking the Door? 

Should I lock the door
the door to me
my spirit, my soul and heart
only leaving a little light
burning inside?

Have you ever felt this way?

Being sensitive souls, we sometimes feel we are un-liked, unloved, that no one really cares.
We feel as though we could be gone from this world and no one would notice. Maybe on occasion someone would wonder what happened to us, but not enough to check. And if they do and think we are ok, they may not wonder again for months.

In this world we live in, we tend to have so many things on our minds that we forget to check in on family, friends, and even friendly acquaintances on occasion. Our lives get distracted by a variety of things, and we tend to do a lot of “just busy stuff” that really doesn’t mean much, if anything.

How many times do you see two or more people together, either walking or even sitting together, but each of them is on their phones texting, emailing, or even talking to someone else. They don’t even care enough to actually communicate, to share quality time with each other face to face. I have been to blame on a rare occasion, for just for a second or two if I have been expecting an important call or text. But, I practice putting my cell on vibrate and keeping it in my purse…unless I am with a “friend” who checks her notifications and will even respond with a text or answer the call!

We get so self-absorbed in our own lives that we forget to check in on those we care about. And even when we are together we are not even fully present to the other person. So sad, because we are actually missing out on the gift right in front of us…the person we claim to care about.

Whenever I have felt neglected by others, especially if I have made the effort to connect, it would make me sad and unloved, or just unlikable. It is rare these days that I allow myself to feel that way, even for a short time. Some years ago a major trauma in my life brought this home to my heart in a big way. I finally had the AHA moment when I wondered how many times I may have made someone else feel sad, lonely, unloved!  Now I really try to connect with others, at least every now and then to let them know I am thinking of them, that I care.

This is a most meaningful post at this time in our society as so many search to find themselves, looking to be loved and cared for, and many who need a hero in their lives.


Thank you Diane.

Peace in the Garden by ann marquette

Peace in the Garden by ann marquette

I really needed this wisdom today.  Actually, I need it everyday.  Thank you Leo Babauta :)

How Not to Do It All


We all want to do so much: take on every request that people email us, complete our neverending list of tasks and projects, help everyone, travel everywhere, learn a ton of new skills, read every book and watch every good film, be the perfect partner and parent and friend …

And yet, we can’t possibly do it all.

There isn’t enough time in the day, nor do we have the attention bandwidth to devote to everything. Even if we were perfectly disciplined, we couldn’t possibly get to even half of what we want to do. Just as with eating, where our eyes are bigger than our stomachs … our hopes are bigger than our actual bandwidths.

So I say, give up on trying to do it all. Simplify. Don’t try to be perfect. Don’t try to have the most perfect life you can create.

Instead, make your days count.

How do you do that? Here are some ideas:

To read the rest http://zenhabits.net/undo/ 

My True Father

 You loved me
Before I was conceived
You spoke to my mother
As I was about to be killed
While still in her womb
You loved me
And wanted me to live
Until time to go Home to you
You love me
Even when I sin
And you forgive me
You love me
So much
You help me through tough times
You love me
So joyfully
You bless me
Even though I don’t deserve it
The Boy
Who planted the seed
In the teenage girl’s womb
Never became my father
The Man
Who eventually married her
And adopted me as his
Did his best to be a good father
Neither, the Boy or the Man
Would love me
As only you have
As only you do
As only you can
Thank you
My True Father
My Heavenly Father
For your unconditional love
Your sacrifice for me
Your forgiveness
Your blessings
Dear God
Thank YOU for being my FATHER
Happy Father’s Day

Copyright June 4, 2008


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