Thursday, December 27, 2012

Unexpected Chances

At times, the air around me grows still and quiet, as if life is shouting for my attention. During those moments...or weeks...I listen from the inside out. I sit and absorb the calm, knowing unexpected chances are on the way.

The past two months have been a bizarre, exciting roller coaster with challenging highs and fast, low turns through a maze of disbelief and humbleness. Sometimes the path winds through a dark area where absolute faith is needed to find a pinpoint of light; other times, like the preceding weeks, are lit so brightly with flashing signs pointing the way that I doubt the validity of the situation. If it seems too good to be true...

I know.  You're wondering what in the world I'm talking about, so here it is. For some this will seem foolish and trite, but for me - and those who know me well - this has been a joyous process of discovery and revelation.

I never thought I'd have a home of my own. Without going into detail, circumstances kept me from achieving this dream...until now. In the past I've explored my options only to have doors closed or to realize it wasn't  going to happen for many reasons. But several weeks ago I felt this...urging...inside to begin looking in earnest. Wary of being disappointed once again, I hesitantly followed that loving voice, and now I'm buying a home, the fulfillment of a decades-old desire.

The story gets better. It's a new home. As in no-one-has-ever-lived-here new. I could write volumes on how things fell into place and how people helped me with everything from information to boxes to much needed encouragement. I'm sure by now my realtor is exhausted from my questions. My best friend, endowed with the patience of Job, has been able to use that gift in abundance.

I kept thinking I would wake up from a delightful dream. Now I know, as of this weekend, I'll be waking up INSIDE my dream. Needless to sat, I am humbled by the blessing and am on the verge of tears more times than not. This process has been a lesson for many areas of my life. Everyone tells me to be excited, but right now I'm listening to the quiet stillness.

Unexpected chances...I am in awe.

Saturday, July 28, 2012

The Wrong Kind of Sandwich

Peanut butter, banana and mayonnaise should never be on the same sandwich.

I work with a woman who loves peanut butter, banana and mayonnaise sandwiches. She adores the taste and constructs this culinary oddity during lunch quite often. Just the thought of puttting these foods together is appalling to me, but her sigh of contentment after taking the first bite is almost comical.

Should I banish her from the kitchen? Should I tell everyone this woman is crazy and doesn't understand the finer points of cusine?  Should I say she can't possibly do her job because she doesn't eat the way I do? Should she be fired and all her insane ingredients thrown away?

Should she tell my co-workers that I don't get it? Maybe she should stand on the workroom table and shout at the top of her lungs how unfair my judgment is. Perhaps she should take out a full page ad declaring that PB, B & M should be a universally accepted sandwich from this day forward.

Sounds ridiculous, doesn't it?

Does she have the RIGHT to eat any sandwich she desires? Of course, she does. Is it going to change the cosmic order of things if I accept her penchant for these sandwiches? Absolutely not. The sun will continue to rise each morning, I will continue to breathe each day (God willing), and Earth will keep spinning as it always does.

I don't have to agree with it or share lunch with her. I have admired this woman for years, and that admiration is in place whether or not she eats one of those dreaded PB, B & Ms. By the same token, she knows that she will never share her lunch with me, and she's never once complained about my distaste for her concoction.

I can't even look at the gooey mess she creates, but I will fight for my co-worker's RIGHT to eat one every day at every meal if that is what she wants.

However, my stand on the issue of PB, B & M sandwiches is not the point of this post.

Let's keep our eye on the big banana here.

Freedom of speech is for everyone of diverse opinions and beliefs. The louder we scream to force an issue, the more harm is done. There's no unity or tolerance involved - on either side.

Are our lives so shallow that we don't have more pressing issues to keep us occupied? Are we so bored that we must take up the "cause of the week" and march in the streets, creating a media frenzy, because someone disagreed with us? Really?

Name one - just one - issue on which we ALL agree.

Freedom goes both ways, pro and con. Don't try to silence someone because he/she doesn't acquiesce to your point of view. If you want people to listen and respect your voice, then give others that same consideration - regardless of which side you're on.

I fully anticipate having mushy PB, B & Ms hurled my way, but that's okay. I respect your right to disagree with me. Eat as many of them as you want.

All I ask is that you respect my right to disagree with you.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Object of Affection

It was great to see Jason Derulo singing again last night on "American Idol". While I don't personally think he's a fabulous talent, I know he has overcome some pretty amazing odds after his neck fracture. 

However, there was one part of his performance that bothered me. A lot.

I'm most likely in a minority about this, but it seems crude and a bit insecure for a male singer to constantly check his "package" while singing onstage. The crotch grabbing and touching causes all sorts of questions to leap into my head. Did he lose something? Is he checking his zipper? Does he want to remind us that he is male? Does he seriously think this is attractive?

No, I get it. Part of the hip hop culture and all that... but the touchy-feely thing ranks right up there with Justin Bieber's refusal to let go of the baggy pants/gangsta style which is positively dead. Instead of doing what so many other male vocalists do, maybe Jason should "take hold" of a new trend.

I mean, if Bieber can cut his hair, then perhaps Jason can find a new object of affection?

Hearts