Mail Call

.

Mail Call

My dad received an invitation

for an all-expense-paid flight

to Washington, D.C.

He and many other elder statesmen

long-ago dressed in military uniforms,

journey soon to visit

the WWII Memorial built

in their honor.

Upon their return

to Midway Airport in Chicago,

a familiar though long-gone sight awaits:

Mail Call

the same kind of Mail Call

woven into their days

during the war.

My dad and I exchange communication

as a rare event these days,

most of my news

about him

or my mom

reaches me via my sister,

but I would not miss this opportunity

no matter our distance

to share my gratitude

for his bravery

dedication

and commitment to freedom

that I embrace as matter-of-fact

every day of my life.

To all of our servicemen, past,

present and--unfortunately--future,

though I detest war

in all forms

consider none worth the bullets,

deaths and ruined lives

still I

thank you for your service

to this country.

by judy Beaston

April 25, 2015

Snow Days

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I remember winters as a child growing up in Chicago and later in a suburb northwest of the city. Snow seemed ever present for much of my younger years and built hills perfect for sledding from the back of my family's home, down into a large parkway that fronted a creek. I remember hours of sledding and building snowmen and having snowball battles, laughing and loving all the white winter fun.

Of course, I remember these events through a child's eyes, a skewed perspective affected by a child's main focus: play. This is the opposite of the adult forced to accommodate boots dripping near the back door, wet clothes to dry, kids to bundle up again and again, hot chocolate and possibly extra kids in the house adding chaos.

Beyond the kid-side, adults were also in charge of shoveling driveways and sidewalks again and again. They had to navigate slippery streets, keep food in the house, continue the normal daily chores along with all the extras winter dumps without regard for anyone's schedule.

I don't remember much about this side of life. Not until I became a parent could I comprehend the seamless weaving of joy, work, play and discipline that comes with the role. By the time I brought my first child into this world, I'd left the cold Midwest for the warmer climes of northwest Oregon. We still had snow, but with less frequency, generally less depth and almost always gone within days, no lingering gray slush waiting for spring's arrival.

Playing in the snow with my kids and their friends was a delight for me. I loved having the chaos of a house filled with young voices, making hot chocolate, pizza, popcorn, and more for these winter-wrapped youngsters. I didn't mind the wet clothes and boots. I loved when schools were closed so we could enjoy a rare treat - rare for this part of Oregon.

And then it would be gone. We had to embrace whatever we received as soon as it arrived because it often began to disappear by the end of the day. A few storms lasted longer, but most were a very temporary affair.

Watching the winter wildness affecting much of the Midwest and East Coast states right now, I have compassion for their dilemma. And though I miss the fun of the pure quiet that sometimes arrives with a fresh snowfall, I don't miss the mess of prolonged winter weather.

Come to think of it, our weather has been skewed in the warm direction for several years. Snowfall times have been more occasional than I remember enjoying when my children (now adults) had the pleasure of experiencing snow right outside their front door. My grandkids haven't enjoyed near the number of snow days their parents did, and it takes driving into the mountains before that pleasure can be found.

I miss it, but don't miss the ice and other driving - or walking - hazards. This year, I'm vicariously enjoying everyone else's snow.

Thinking About What I Want

Thoughts Float On By

My focus directs my thoughts. My thoughts direct my focus. What I find more of in my life also reflects my thoughts and my focus.

While this reality can be a good thing, it can also lead to an increase in what I really don't want.

This has been demonstrated for me in my attempts to halt habits that annoy me or aren't healthy for me. By concentrating on ways to NOT do something, I've managed to increase my focus on that something I wish to halt. My focus brings more of it into my life and I'm stuck on the wrong side of the tracks.

Alternately, I cannot just focus on what I want with mantras and affirmations. The problem with those methods rests in the layers behind the spoken words. My unconscious is silently adding comments about those items I am hoping to change and thus my focus remains on what I don't want.

However, when I latch onto what I really want with a link to my heart and my emotions, I uncover multiple paths to visualizing what I want with a passion and conviction that overrides all other views. Eventually, the old becomes dust and the new becomes reality.

Next time you feel a shadow floating into your awareness, just sigh and let it float on by without thinking, "I'm depressed." Because sure as the sun rises in the morning, with that thought you'll be depressed before the day ends.

Being Mindfully Aware

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Being Mindfully Aware

We all have pet peeves, those little annoyances that have a tendency to balloon into something ready to sail around the world. I know I harbor a few that, try as I might, cannot be suppressed without conscious awareness.

Awareness: that's one of my themes for 2015. Mindful awareness--taking my awareness to a deeper level, one where I connect consciously to what happens automatically from my unconscious.

Over time, I've developed the ability and practice of shrugging off most of those little annoyances that come into my awareness. Perhaps a little bit of a huff of black smoke appears, but this is harmless to others. Not so much for me.

When I walk with mindful awareness through experiences that annoy me, I notice how each triggers sludge development. This, in turn, invites the presence of shadows and dissonance. Without mindful awareness, by the time I'm aware of feeling disquiet, the source is long gone leaving me baffled by my situation.

The key to inner harmony, it seems, rests in determining what makes some incident annoying in the first place. Why is some action by some other person so bothersome to me? And if what bothers me in others is a mirror of self, what behavior of mine mimics what I'm seeing?

For example, one of my pet peeves rises when others leave cabinet doors or drawers open. Seems a low-effort task to close them after the item sought has been removed. Or is it?

It seems that way to me because I have lived well over fifty years with people who demanded adherence to certain conventions. I learned that the best way to maximize peace and minimize discomfort was to adhere to their perception of perfection.

By forcing my self into the expectations of others, I buried connections to what I always wanted for me: freedom to breathe.

When others do something that annoys me, what I feel is the whip others flung at me. It's a variant of PTSD, mild in this type of situation, but still a variant of PTSD. I'm reacting and not responding. I'm in automatic mode from an unconscious perspective shaped, colored and tainted by others.

When I take time to reflect on what annoys me, I remember that I also behave in ways that annoy others, no matter how much I try to conform to all those rules and restrictions others have demanded.

Then, by stepping back, pausing, considering, I can be realistic. Every individual comes to this day colored and shaped by a lifetime of experiences. They've developed habits and behaviors that suit them just fine. I can't make them change. I can voice my thoughts on what seems dangerous to me or unsanitary or annoying. We can work on solutions and compromises.

In the end, for some of these annoyances, my best path is gratitude for the life I have and, with open doors and drawers - just shut them. Then smile.

December's Cyber Black Holes

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     Late evening arrives before I settle at last to compose my daily poem for my online poetry group. I breathe, toss out the detritus of the day, ask my writing team for something significant, pertinent to the day. 

      But my day involved errands, including finalizing the submitting of my request for a new passport (old one long-ago expired) -- so it seemed there was nothing there. Nothing other than holiday everything confronting me at every stop.

      Additionally, every day requires filtering an abundance of messages from my cyber mail box and seemingly anywhere I click on the Internet. I suspect that has been -- and continues festering in my mind. Not 'festering' like a blister, just trying to figure out how to both ignore it AND take advantage of it. 

      I go to the store for a needed item and feel guilt rise within because I'm not shopping the sales -- what if I need this item this year? Yes, my BLAH-BLAH is wearing out, if I buy now, I can be pleased that I did not pay full price. Only a fool pays full price… etc. etc.   

      The tape is one many marketing and business folks would be pleased to know was running with vehemence within me. BUT, I shake my head with each -- move on. 

      I think my year of purging excess items from every corner of my house, combined with spending a lot on helpful remodels and the items that go with that, has me on a simplicity plane. I do NOT need more material items. When something wears out, I trust I WILL obtain a fair and satisfying price as well as a more satisfying pleasure in the new item -- this vs. a more frenetic, holiday sales pressured purchase plan. 

      ANYWAY - this is the poem that spoke and flowed with only minor tweaks from first draft to final.

Cyber Black Holes

December upon us once again,

holiday scenes proliferate

multiply like rabbits breeding

no stopping strong urges

by businesses for green seed

their vacuums on full-power

sucking hard-earned dollars

into their silk purses, sugar-coating

debt with syrupy sweet deals

swirling about us like a budding

black hole, Friday after Turkey-day

caught like a star exploding

Cyber everything from one week prior

and on through one week after

with no real end yet in sight.

I tuck my wallet in a cyber-proof vault

yet still sense the contents siphoned

into the lightless coffers somewhere out there.

by judy Beaston

December 5, 2014

What I Need Today

What I need today....

Sometimes, what I need stares back at me from the oddest places. Rarely do I recognize what I need when peering into the unkind reflections parading themselves as replicas of me that I find in a mirror. Nor does window glass offer much in the way of honesty. But I might find it on a path in a forest, shrouded by trees whose branches mingle overhead like soldier's swords creating a path toward a new light.

Or on a beach, surrounded by sun or surrounded by fog, both merely embrace me in different cloaks of welcome. The surf pounds without tiring, pushing energy into my body-mind-soul whether I splash through its teasing waves or trod across the sand, bundled up against chilly winds.

And in those natural connections, I see what I need, what all of me inside to outside needs, in this moment, on this day. Tomorrow might change, but for now, right here, I know.

When Spring Arrives

My 'energy of renewal' felt vibrant at the beginning of January, the seeds of a large garden of writing loomed on my horizon. The seeds have not fallen on fallow soil, though the work has been difficult. The ground remains in need of nutrients, and I've been diligently pursuing the acquisition of a steady supply to bring the ideas in my mind to fruition. Writing courses wove through the opening months of this year, each helping me sharpen the tools I use in my writing endeavors. I also completed, through much painstaking effort and with the help of a fabulous editor, a nearly ten thousand word short story, soon to be published in an anthology of short stories (stay tuned). Poetry continues to be a daily outlet for thoughts and games and some serious composing as well. Flash fiction rounds out my writing hours, a version of fiction I find both extremely challenging and immensely fulfilling.

A major portion of my home (kitchen, family room and various other small areas) was plunged into renovation last Thanksgiving week and finally resolved into a beautiful, functional and welcome respite place around the middle of March. Yes, that was a long journey, but with a worthy destination. The effect on my writing was both positive and negative. My music suffered, however, and I'm just now getting back into the swing of playing my saxophone on a regular basis.

All arriving just in time for the bounty of spring flourishing around me, a season that annually encourages my body, mind and soul to embrace life.