We need more dreamers in the world! People who dream possess a mind that knows no limits. They imagine the seemingly impossible, even when they are wondering about ordinary things.
I’ve been accused of having my head in the clouds on more than one occasion. I take that as a huge compliment; I like being thought of as a deep thinker. People with this perspective believe they can achieve anything that is possible. And, that is a beautiful mindset.
It is said that your dreams connect you to your inner self. When you are anchored in this way, one can be propelled to follow his true calling. Seeking out one’s purpose in life is always downright fulfilling to the soul. But, in order to be able to achieve this, one must maintain a strong belief in themselves.
Today, I unplugged at the end of the day. No electronic stimulation whatsoever. I found my way to a winding narrow island road that skirted the Gulf of Mexico where I sat on a rock and watched the sun fall. Since my devotion was great, I was rewarded with a magnificent mango sunset.
Pearl Bailey startled me awake this morning, and man – she was in a frenzy. She raced down the stairs before me in a conniption fit! Once I opened the sliding glass door, she barreled down the outside steps into the her Shangri-La and came face to face with her nemesis, Merle the Squirrel.
Now, let it be known that Merle is a mischievous scamp. He’s been taunting Pearl Bailey for years; almost from Day 1 of Pearl Bailey’s existence! The two share an almost love-hate relationship. I really believe that Pearl Bailey would like to become friends, but Merle is a vilifier – his mocking sneers at this drooling dumb dog are something out of a cartoon book!
The best part of this morning’s ‘squirrel-du-soleil’ performance was Pearl Bailey almost caught the wily varmint! I watched from the porch as she leapt three feet in the air narrowly missing Merle’s fuzzy tail as he jumped from the fence up onto an adjacent palm tree. Now, I tell you, jumping three feet in the air for Pearl Bailey is nothing short of miraculous. Her ‘never miss a meal’ hefty physique (my nephew refers to her as “Stick a’ Butter) is certainly a deterrent to her agility. But, when I tell you she bounded for that fence section, she was in it – 100%. Got to give it to her, this girl is all heart!
After the narrow miss for a tasty breakfast supplement, Pearl Bailey returned to the house and proceeded to tell Ella all about it! And, she didn’t even have to embellish the story, this was true reporting at its finest!
“God understands us when we try to love.” — Dorothy Day, Activist for Women’s Suffrage/Social Justice.
I’ve been obsessed with angels of late. I seem to feel them around more than ever. Are they delivering something to me, or am I failing in some respect and it is believed I need guidance? Regardless, I am receiving them and I hope they like what they find. I am certainly not ready for sainthood, by any means, but I work on improving day after day.
I have studied the Saints and their deeds, and I know emphatically that ‘working at doing good’ is the avenue I need to walk. I believe it is important to remember that Holy people were human beings once, too. They were full of complexities and struggles, just like us. Yet, their lives were spent in service to others. It’s been said an extraordinary person is one whose inner and outer lives are in accord. When a person does in the world what his innermost being leads him to do, his life is in alignment with his purpose, and by that great things can emerge.
My new campaign of ‘I Can Do Better‘ is working in my daily life. I hope if you decided to try it on for size, it might be working well for you, too!
“The world will be saved by beauty.” — Dostoyevsky, 19th Century Russian Novelist.
The High Line, a linear pedestrian park re-imagined from an abandon railroad line, is a spectacular way to experience the west side of Manhattan.
The park is adorned with interesting contemporary art and sculpture that has been commissioned in an effort to spark productive dialogue from its viewers. The High Line is the only park in New York City with a dedicated multi-media art program. With present works by national and international artists, the commissions established give the artists an emerging voice in both a creative and provocative way.
I was captivated by this particular art display where women of all skin colors were represented. My imagination was running wild with interpretation as I stood viewing the ‘doors’ strategically placed in between the old abandon rail tracks. Walking ‘The High Line’ from north to south, the first door you encounter seems to represent an Asian woman walking forward with purpose, and perhaps she has just walked through her door which is set to close behind her. In the same scene, another door, this one depicting a brown skin woman of perhaps Indian descent seemingly poised at the her door, hand on her hip, her face wearing an inquisitve look.
The next set of doors a walker encounters is a triad. The first illustrates what seems to be an African woman carrying her wares in a basket which is practical to her culture and well-suited to the objects she carries. Next in line, a white skinned woman dressed in 60’s mod fashion, who seems to be at the door’s threshold standing firmly before she proceeds. And last in the door series is a purposeful woman, who could be of any descent (or perhaps depicted as a ‘representation’ of all women), this woman is walking forward with great determination. Her hand gesture is instructing those approaching in her path. Her stride is as ambitious as her bold jewelry.
I loved the opportunity to view this display and ponder the artist’s imagination in creating it. When I finally walked away from it, I loved the feelings that it envoked in me. I felt enormously proud to be a woman, proud to know that there is a strong sisterhood which encompasses all of our cultures, circumstances, and skin-colors.
Pearl Bailey is a handful. Pure and simple, she is possessed by some deviant mischievous being that powers her and urges her to do diabolical things (she told me this!)
When I was upstairs today putting away the freshly folded laundry, the Professor was downstairs with the hounds. I guess he had let them out into their Shangri-La while he tended to his work. A short while later I heard the slider open and before long I heard Pearl Bailey barreling up the stairs to join me! I thought, ‘How nice…she misses me’. Huh! Not even close! Miss Grungy Pants jumped up onto the bed and plopped down in all her dirty glory, and when I turned around I shrieked with dismay, “Oh gawd, Pearl Bailey, jeez not on my bed!”
And, what did this demon diva do in response to this reaction, you ask? She turned around the other direction and proceeded to wipe her face on my pillow!
And, I thought I was done with the laundry for this week…guess I thought wrong!
Ok, I am not going to throw out a lot of weak statements to you, or try and convince you of my earnest efforts at doing better. But what I am going to do is tell you a short story on how my day went after being powered by my mantra – I can do better!
I awoke like any other morning, except this morning as I descended the stairs and opened the blinds I uttered, “I will do better today.” Nothing miraculous happened, I did not hear angels singing their ‘oohs and aahs’, I did not see a rainbow magically appear in the sky, nor did I feel the earth move. However, not receiving cosmic acknowledgment does not equate to an unresponsive universe. Remember that!
Next up was the arrival of the Federal Express driver. I thought…I can do better! So, without hesitation, I got up from my desk and walked out the front door down to the street and waited. I heard the driver thrashing about through the boxes and as she emerged from the back of the truck, I was waiting! Did I do better? Yes, I believe I did.
As the afternoon hours began to dwindle, I hurried to the grocery store to pick up the items missing from the night’s menu. Once my cart was complete, I searched for a quick line. I found one and began to unload my items when I looked up and noticed the bagger. Oh gawd, it is the dreaded ‘bread mashing box crushing peach bruising’ villain of a bagger. Ugh! I am hating this line! Thoughts running through my head, ‘should I quick grab my items and change lanes?’ I am in a quandary here. No, I thought, I can do better! I sucked up all my anxiety and kept quiet. This was a huge feat for me because as a former market girl I KNOW how to properly bag groceries. After greeting the checker, and paying for my items, I even had a kind hello for the ‘meat dripping bagger’. I left the store and proceeded to the car to load the bags (incidentally — I was certain I would be standing at the tailgate repacking the bags!) But to my absolute amazement, I had left the store with three perfectly packed bags! Wowzer! Because I had tried to do better — did the bagger try to do better?
Whereas, saving a FedEx driver a few steps on her delivery, and meeting with circumstance in a courteous manner may not sound like much, I look at it this way — Perhaps that driver was a young mother and those steps and time I saved her made it possible for her to arrive at her child’s soccer game timely. Or maybe she received a few accolades to her delivery record with her employer for bringing her load in early. Maybe the bagger at the store, who I have had discussion with prior, noticed me, too, and said to herself ‘I don’t want to disappoint this customer again, I can do better!’ And perhaps her employer noticed her efforts and commended her. You, see…small adjustments and efforts really can bring about change, and that results in a little more kindness in the world!
I listened to a refreshing television broadcast this evening. Prince Harry, the Duke of Sussex, England was questioned about his occasional choice of private air travel for he and his bride and infant son. He faced this criticism and humbly deflected it with some simple responses. The Prince said, “I can do better, we all can do better…we all have a responsibility for our own individual impact.” Wherein he was generally speaking of his most recent initiative called Travel List, which he set up to educate people on travel choices that are sustainable on the environment, and to work with large businesses on their making sustainable choices, I felt that his words had a more global ring to them.
“I can do better, we all can do better…we all have a responsibility for our own individual impact.”
Isn’t this true about the manner in which we navigate life in general? Isn’t it true in terms of how we treat or speak to others? Isn’t it an accurate statement on the choices we make that lean toward self-serving? In all of these things, I know I can do better, and I believe that you can do better, too. Together our individual impacts will marry, and by that, result in bringing about more kindness to this divisive world.
So, tomorrow when I wake up I am going to start my day with the mantra, ‘I can do better!’ I am going to use those words to propel me through the day. And, should I encounter any strangers, I will somehow let it be known that I am trying to do better and hope that these words strike a chord within them too!
Awaking to the horrifying first images of the Bahama Islands, Pearl Bailey and I were astounded. Abaco and Freeport islands were the first in reporting, all the while the storm still raged outside the shelter walls, seemingly stalled for no other reason than it’s intent of total obliteration.
With tears streaming down failing into my coffee cup, and Pearl Bailey more subdued than usual (again, she vibes off of me), neither one of us could bear the news. I put my head in my hands and cried; Pearl Bailey covered her eyes and sighed. It was a very big sigh.
The Bahamian Islands are a group of hundreds of islands and cays, which lie southeast of my State of Florida. It is a nation of people known for their welcoming, warm responsive attention to its visitors. They are a strong people made-up from many different nationalities. This tiny island nation has withstood many hurricanes, some of them catastrophic , but Dorian’s calling card was not a welcome visitor. Dorian delivered the Bahama’s a devastating blow, and she hasn’t let up yet, even when this beautiful island nation cried “Uncle!”
One courageous Freeport resident interviewed on CNN spoke with hope, he said “We think of the State of Florida as our big brother, we watched the devastation you suffered during Katrina and Michael, we have drawn on your resilience to come together. We are a nation of re-builders, we will come together and be stronger, we will build stronger, and we will be a better opponent next time.” As a Floridian, this made me want to jump in a boat and get over there are soon as possible.
Friends of my blog, Island Jane located in Key West, are helping in the organization of relief help as soon as it is safe to navigate over there. The Key West folks, also known as Conchs, know how to come together. Hit hard in 2017 by the Cat 4 storm, Irma, the Key islands showed their resiliance and have re-built with doors re-opened. The effort these folks are calling for is: tarps, batteries, flash lights, toiletries of all types; generators, medicines, first-aid kits, clothing, construction materials. If you can contribute to this effort, please send to drop off location: Seahunter Boat Factory; 25545 SW 140 Ave., Homestead, FL 33032. They ask to please not send cash, make those contributions directly to a local Bahamian relief organizations.
I think it is important to say that no amount of contribution is too small. If each one of us just dug in our pocket and offered just $5 – we could build a sizable mountain of hope. A $5 pack of batteries – drop it in the mail; a $10 tarp – send it along; a couple of flash lights – swaddle them in bubble wrap and ship them off. Enlist your kids in the efforts, teach them what it means to ‘give hope’. These islands have been crushed by this monster, believe me every little bit makes a difference.
Thank you for anything you can do, even if it is only to spread awareness so others may help. I am grateful you lent me your ear. Big Heart!
I had a strange encounter. It was not an uncomfortable one, in fact, it kind of felt like home. I truly believe it was an angel.
As I was entering the airport in my Florida town departing for a quick-turnaround trip to New York, I noticed a statuesque woman with closely cropped grey hair standing across the room in an entrance doorway. She was gazing at me. I was a bit taken back for she reminded me of my dear friend’s recently departed mother. Instead of sluffing it off, I began to let the feeling settle around me.
Thoughts were running through my head while I logged onto the kiosk to print my boarding passes, and all the way through security I had a nagging feeling that I would see this woman again.
The Professor and I were seated with seat-belts fastened waiting for the boarding process to complete. In the last file of passengers, the same woman appeared and sat down in the aisle-seat next to me. I felt a strange sense of calm. She spoke little, but was immensely pleasant and there was something very wise about her demeanor . The dialogue exchange between us was mostly related to the flight and our fears. Upon take off, however, this woman gently laid her hand over top of mine and said almost in a whisper…”I hope you don’t mind, I usually travel with my daughter.” (Hmmm…)
Once airborne, our nice exchange dwindled somewhat and the lady’s attention wandered to the seat mate across the aisle. At that point, I returned my attention to the New York Times Crossword Puzzle. The remainder of the flight was unremarkable, and we filed out in order once the plane had landed.
The Professor and I began to walk in search of the Flight Board in order to find our connecting gate. Once we verified where we were going we made a stop at the next set of restrooms and realized we had best hustle up as the next flight’s concourse was a hike. It was not long into our walking clip that the mystery lady appeared. She was standing in the middle of the corridor, not moving, looking perplexed as hordes of passengers scurried around her. The Professor was a good pace ahead of me, yet I took the chance and stopped to inquire if she needed help. She smiled beatifically at me and said, “Oh yes, thank you.” And again, she said “I’m sorry, I usually travel with my daughter.” I asked her if she was heading north, like me, and she responded, “No, I am going to Savannah.” I checked her paperwork and discovered the gate she needed was B-13, the gate for my New York Flight was B-14. (Hmmm…)
I told her she could come with me but that we’d have to hustle up as both our flights would be taking off soon. I asked her if she needed a wheel chair, she responded, “…it’s okay, I can make it”.
I successfully hooked back up with the Professor, and we navigated through the moving walkways until we reached the B concourse and I was able to deliver this lovely soul to her gate. As I turned to go, she reached up and gave me a hug. Now, where a hug is not such an uncommon gesture to offer in return of a simply act of kindness, what happened next was. This benevolent soul reached up and embraced me by both of my shoulders, and looked into my eyes and uttered one simple word “Peace”. That was it. No other exchange, just one simple word delivered with her beautiful smile.
Now, you would think this story ends here; simply an elderly person with a vague resemblance to someone I once knew; followed by an encounter where she speaks of her daughter. A good soul, needing some assistance, and me in a position to offer that help. Yes, you would think the story stopped there, except for the nagging sensation within me.
You see, I felt her spirit in the warmth of her hand atop of mine. I felt her energy as she spoke of her daughter and their travels together. I saw in her eyes a golden aura that made this all real. I truly believe she was an angel, an angel with a message that needed delivering. And, I felt I was being blessed with this spiritual gift.
I let the feeling stay with me. I know most of us tend to dismiss simple occurrences while tending to details in our busy lives, but this feeling I did not dismiss, I let it take up residence.
Once home from my quick trip, I felt the compelling urge to contact my dear friend. We arranged a call. I told her of my encounter, how much this lovely soul reminded me of her mom, and how I felt I had a message to deliver. This dear friend began to sob, her sensitivity worn right up front. She told me “It’s been 212 days since Mom left this earth. I can no longer hear her voice in my head, I have been praying so hard for any kind of sign. I miss her so much.” I knew then, this lovely older woman that I had encountered, who possessed a persona that I could well recognize, was the answer to my dear friend’s prayer. Angels walk among us unnoticed sometimes, but they are always there in case we need protection, advice, or as in this case, to deliver a simple message to a grieving child.
As sweet as this story is, there is a caveat to it, you see…my dear friend has always had a favorite mantra. It is the word “Peace”. She even has a large old hippie peace sign that hangs on her front porch year around. Now, if that doesn’t make the hairs on the shackles of your neck tickle!
It was a picture perfect summer day on the west side of Manhattan when I was first invited to walk The High Line. The circumstances to the invite made it a ‘full steam ahead acceptance’, and off we went!
The High Line – for those of you who have never heard of it – is a re-purposed section of abandoned rail tracks, rescued from extinction to become a beautiful and natural 1.45 mile linear pedestrian park.
Years in the making, this viaduct which runs from the meat packing district of Greenwich Village north to Chelsea, is now a public space created from once useful elevated rail tracks. This New York Central Railway line, which was constructed in the mid-19th century to transport freight of all sorts, was originally run on street-level tracks. The rail traffic, however, to this busy section of the City, made the area treacherous to pedestrian traffic and resulted in many deaths. In the interest of public safety, and, since the warehouses located in Chelsea were dependent upon their deliveries, the Railroad Commission elected to raise the tracks to an elevated height of 30′ high, a full three stories up; an innovative solution to the turn of the century urban growth of New York.
In 1933, the first train ran on The High Line—which was then called the “West Side Elevated Line.” A few of the tracks were cut directly through some of the buildings, creating easy off-loads of freight for factories like Nabisco (a space which is now the home of Chelsea Market.)
In the mid-1960’s -1970’s, train use dwindled due to the rise in over-the-road trucking. As the decline continued through the 1970’s, some parts of the Line were demolished. By the time the calendar rolled around to the 1980’s, all traffic was stopped and calls for a total demolition of the structure soon followed.
That might have been the end of the story had it not been for the bright and creative minds of two innovative young men who stepped forward in the late 1990’s. Rallying and campaigning for the area to be deeded back to the City for use as public space, a foundation was formed named Friends of The High Line. The design and construction was undertaken from these efforts and, right before the neighboring residents’ very eyes, a new City park was established.
But, the High Line it is more than just a park. Its glory is in its variety. Perched 30-feet up overlooking gothic revival red brick warehouses and looming skyscrapers, the technological marvels of glass and steel co-mingled with the centuries old relics, well…one gets a sense of time traveling.
Now, I will be the first to say that New York City knows a thing or two about parks. This is the city that pioneered solutions by building bridges, subways, public spaces, and towering buildings to power it. In walking through this park, I felt connected to the City’s history and the immigrant love and labor that built her. It was truly a magical experience for this first time High Line walker.
So, if you are ever in New York City and you get asked….Why don’t we walk The High Line? Say “YES!”, it is a delightful adventure.
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Footnote – In viewing the first photograph you might note a long string of people lined up along the building on the right. These folks were waiting, some for two days straight, for admittance to Taylor Swift’s Lover Experience Pop-up! The Twitter feed and Instagram photos were screaming that day with all the Swiftie’s posts and gloats! And, this this old gal with her sore leg muscles, watching like a voyeur from above, surely did get an injection of generational time travel watching that event unfold!
