It's been a minute.

 As the above title, and the Kids say, it Has been a minute.

I've been waiting for inspiration, mood, or lightning strike to get me moving. Alas, here I sit.

So, with no inspiration.....lets go.

A topic I always find useful, and uplifting is Gratitude. We tend to find things we look for, or focus our attention on, and what we intentionally think about. I've found it very difficult to be sad, mad, or bad when I'm being grateful.

Gratitude is like a light, a beacon, that shows us the gifts over which we have been allowed stewardship. The more diligently we care for these and express our appreciation, I think, the more we will discover.

Look for the proverbial pony. Perhaps, he is hiding in the tall grass that you have yet to mow. Ugh, the grass.... but what about the light of gratitude? What if we were to be thankful for the grass, the good health we enjoy that allows us to mow it and the new pony to help keep it looking beautiful? Shine your light on that!

I love quotes.

"With gratitude, optimism is sustainable."                                                                                                                                               - Michael J. Fox   Wow!

Sustainable optimism! Such an excellent endeavor.

Look for the good, the great is near there, somewhere. I heard that excellent is just over the sunny rise. It's going to be a beautiful journey. 

Come on, won't you go with me?

In a funk...

2020 is history. Things are looking better, but I find myself in a funk. Perhaps a late response to last year and its duration. Whatever the reason, my activities have suffered.  Things I relied upon to be happy, to feel good have been unsatisfactory. 

I did not feel like getting out today, but yesterday I committed to mailing a book to a fine, young person.  This commitment, this promise, spurred me to act. You see my goal of giving 50 books this year is something that I have been using as a catalyst for feeling good and spreading joy.

Leaving the post office my spirt was lifted as I headed for a favorite dining place.

Great food and beverages are seldom my reason for visiting. Today was no different as delightful conversation being the special of the day. These unique and caring servers have become like family.

Unaware that even more was in store, I bid these special friends good evening and was out the door.

Next to the curb was a Mini-Van.

An elderly couple looking questioningly at the front door.

She, in the passenger seat, appeared to be asking me something.

As I approached them, I could hear her ask "Are they open?"

She had a stick-on name tag that read: "Patient."

He also wore one: "Visitor."

Their story developed in my mind.

"YES, they are open and have great food!"

Without thought I asked:

"Would you like me to help you inside?"

In a relived voice He immediately said, "Yes, that would be great!"

Banter between she and I consisted of, "now, she had to buy" and "I, was trying to get on steady as their doorman."

Her gait was unsteady and teetered side to side. As we entered, the darkness revealed that she had trouble seeing.

Both servers magically 'appeared', and we had a convenient table just inside the front door.

So, why do I share this day of being in a funk?

I have discovered a Funk Remedy. 

Get up and get out, if you can.

If not spread something good with someone who might enjoy and need your attention that day.

Surround yourself with people you love, either in person, on the phone or by message.

And help someone if you can. Best if it's a person that you may never see again.

Why do I recommend this??

Because my Funk is gone.

Helping, sharing, doing for others is possibly one of the most selfish things we can do, because the undeniable returns are automatic...the fulfilling feelings are immediate and actually unexplainable. 

Guess Mom and Dad were right.

Giving is better than receiving. 

Wonder where they got that?

As a side note: I now work 3 nights a week as the host, here. 

One Thousand Days

What can you learn in One Thousand Days?
You can learn that the old saying: 'You never miss the water until the well runs dry,' is true.
And from those dusty depths, I share.

Some pains never disappear. They may change but never, completely, leave you at peace.
Memories may be of great comfort and may also crush your heart.
The slightest thing can trigger these:

A strand of hair, a song, a restaurant, the color of a persons eyes.
The faint aroma of a familiar perfume, the silhouette of long dark hair.
These come from nowhere and blindside with laser precision.
The sudden feeling to call and say, "I'll be late."
Your dog walks beside the bed, the floor squeaks, and in the dark, you turn the covers down but she's not there.

You watch a couple in a café. You are more aware of this special time, than they are. They don't appreciate this time as they should.  You wish you could enlighten them. Put down the phone!! Look at her the way you did when you first met. Tell her what she means to you. Love is a good word. Use it often and feel it when you do. These moments are precious and too few, one day to be forever gone. As you secretly watch, you are now longing to set across from 'Her,' once again, to look deep into her dark eyes and feel the connection you had shared for over 30 years.

You leave the café and the cold winter wind bites, as your mind replays the words she would have said hating the cold and urging spring to hurry.
You realize that she was your harshest critic and your fiercest ally.

No, this pain never completely leaves you in peace. Over time you learn to use these memories to reveal how extraordinarily you have been blessed. To share this kind of love comes once in a lifetime. You are one of the fortunate few who have lived such a life, such a love.

It is my hope that these words encourage you to let those you love know it!
Say it to them, write it to them, call them. As I have said before, a few well chosen words will remove all doubt. If you had ten minutes to live, who would you call?.....what would you say?....why are you waiting.
Do it now. Do it often. No regrets.
You will be happy you did. They will be too.
And if your well should one day run dry you will have the warm memory of knowing, without doubt, that they knew you loved them.

This is dedicated to my love,

Deborah A. Johnson

Died June 28th 2015

One Thousand Days Ago

Do something for yourself

I seldom (never) leave the house without having to go back inside after something. There is something magical about the walk from the front door to the front seat that stimulates memory neurons. However this morning the magic was slow to occur and I was 3 miles down the road when I remembered I forgot.... my cell phone. Luckily I had taken my morning heart medication so the palpitations did not result in cardiac arrest. With hands trembling from immediate with drawl symptoms I continued on my journey to the local café for breakfast. Then images began rushing through my head of fellow diners staring at me doing nothing. With no electronic device to peer into, what would I do until my food arrived? Courage summoned I proceeded to the restaurant.
"Coffee and water please."
With the rest of my order placed I began to glance around at the other patrons. None seemed to be aware of my nakedness. I was about to relax when a clatter from two tables away startled me. It was a cutting crisp bacon too close to the end of your plate so the other end jumped up and clattered back onto the table while you made more noise trying to catch everything that was now in motion kind of clatter.
As I glanced that direction I saw an older gentleman, also, dining alone. Upon his head a WWII veterans cap. My imagination went to a time before I existed. A young soldier saying good bye to his family, perhaps a sweetheart. What unknown dangers and fears had this man endured? Because of sacrifices of this nature we live in a nation that is, for the most part, free.
I wanted to thank him.
I hurried with the remainder of my meal and made my way to the waitresses station next to the kitchen. I explained what I wished to do. She smiled and replied: "We can make this happen." My plan with her now in place, I paid for my meal and his.
I gave her a note I had hand written:
Sir:
Please allow me the honor of buying your breakfast.
Your service has allowed me to live in a Nation that is free.
With my sincere gratitude.
The waitress was not to let him know who this was from, simply give him the note.

I hesitated, for a moment, in my truck parked across the street. In my rear-view mirror, I saw our Veteran emerge and you know I believe his shuffled gate was just a bit quicker, his head a bit higher...and I think mine is too.

Do something for yourself.
This, I believe, is the very best way.

The Sky’s the Limit

When I used to think of discipline, it brought up feelings of dread, of punishment. I think most will agree those are also their first thoughts. If we look a little deeper into the definitions in Webster’s we find:

Discipline:  self-command, self-control, self-discipline, self-government, self-mastery, self-restraint, willpower. 

Notice how many times ‘self’ is used? So discipline then is something that we can have control over, and self control, self discipline is a very good thing. Discipline, I have come to believe, is the master key to what we wish to gain, become, and accomplish with our lives. So what can we do, be, have? Are there limits to our potential?

It was a mostly clear day, just a few scattered clouds in the mid-west sky. Chris had never been to this community before. His job had brought him here, and he had to work on Saturday. As he peered out of his office window he noticed a railroad yard. Chris had always loved trains. Perhaps tomorrow before work, (yes he had to work on Sunday too) he could drive down and check out the rail yards. And that is where I met Chris. It turned out this young man was the embodiment of discipline. Now here is a guy hundreds of miles from home, in a place he would never have been, had his work not taken him there, and he was working weekends. So how do I figure him to be one of the most disciplined people I may ever meet?

You see when Chris caught sight of our rail yard that Saturday afternoon he was mere feet from his co-workers, but four hundred feet above the city, traveling at 700 miles an hour in his F/A- 18 Hornet. Just moments before, he had been pulling a little over 7 G’s as he performed as a part of the Navy Flight Demonstration Squadron-

The Blue Angels!

We spent almost an hour together, talking railroad and (whenever I could get him to stop talking about trains) flying.

What type of self-discipline do you suppose it takes to become one of this nation’s most élite pilots? Were there days when he wanted to quit, times that he was afraid, that it all seemed just too hard?

My guess is yes. But Major Collins persevered, he did not quit and his self-mastery has taken him to places he would never have gone to meet people he would never have met.

In 2009 the Blue Angels performed before more than 8 million spectators.  The discipline Chris has employed, over the years, now pays him dividends beyond what he could have imagined and wonder-filled memories to last a lifetime.

But most important of all is who he has become, because of all he was willing to do.
What dreams and goals do you have set for your incredible life story?
WHY do you want to accomplish these things? Once we determine WHY we will find the way.
Will the struggle and effort be worth it?
 I only spent an hour with Chris, but I’m certain he would smile and say;
 ‘Yes sir. The sky’s the limit.’  

Be safe Major Collins, and thank you for your service.

www.blueangels.navy.mil

Major Chris Collins

U.S. Marine Corps
Slot

Major Christopher Collins is a native of Darien, Conn., and graduated from Darien High School in 1993. He attended Norwich University where he graduated with a Bachelor of Science degree in Business Management in 1997.

Chris was commissioned a Marine Corps Second Lieutenant through the Platoon Leaders Class and reported to Quantico, Va., for The Basic School in July 1997. He reported for aviation indoctrination at Naval Air Station (NAS) Pensacola, Fla., in February 1998. Chris completed primary flight training in the T-34C Mentor at NAS Whiting Field, Fla., and transferred to NAS Meridian, Miss., for intermediate flight training. While there, he flew the T-2C Buckeye. Chris was then assigned to NAS Kingsville, Texas, for advanced flight training where he flew the T-45A Goshawk. He completed his flight training in April 2000 and received his wings of gold in May.

In July 2000, Chris reported to Marine Fighter Attack Squadron 101 (VMFAT-101), the "Sharpshooters," at MCAS Miramar, Calif., for training in the F/A-18 Hornet. In September 2001, he joined Marine Fighter Attack Squadron 323 (VMFA-323), the "Death Rattlers." Chris deployed aboard USS Constellation (CV 64) in October 2002, flying combat missions in support of Operations Southern Watch and Iraqi Freedom. Chris also deployed aboard USS Carl Vinson (CVN 70), flying combat operations in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom III. While serving with VMFA-323, he served as the Logistics Officer, Schedules Writer, Powerline Division Officer, Administrative Officer and the Assistant Aviation Maintenance Officer. While there, the "Death Rattlers" received the 2003 Robert M. Hanson Award as the Marine Corps Aviation Association's Fighter Attack Squadron of the Year.

In October 2005, Chris returned to VMFAT-101 as an F/A-18 instructor pilot. During his tour, Chris was selected to attend the United States Navy Fighter Weapons School (TOPGUN) and graduated in July 2007.

Chris joined the Blue Angels in September 2008, where he served as the Left Wing pilot in 2009. He has accumulated more than 2,800 flight hours and 350 carrier arrested landings. His decorations include three Strike Flight Air Medals, two Navy and Marine Corps Commendation Medals with Combat Distinguishing Device, a Navy and Marine Corps Achievement Medal and various personal and unit awards.