As a spoonie & collector of quotations, I’ve found so many that inspire me; from the directly health-related like Buddha’s “The secret of health for both mind and body is not to mourn for the past, worry about the future, or anticipate troubles, but to live in the present moment wisely and earnestly,” to my oft-quoted “If you’re going through hell, keep going,” from Winston Churchill. We spoonies often deal with some pretty Hellish circumstances so we’ve learned (or are still learning ) that, for us, fighting back tends to make things worse. Anyone in their own Hell must make a choice; run away or stay, push forward or go backward, change latitude or attitude, continue alone or return home, change direction or avoid detection, whatever it takes just to get out or doesn’t take to give in. When your options are further limited by health, the way out — the only way to go for me — is through; “keep going.”

WEGO Health prompted my consideration of the quotational that’s inspirational as part of their Health Activist Writer’s Month Challenge (#HAWMC). With a writing prompt for each day of April, WEGO’s first challenge was imagining a Health Time Capsule & this next one suggests sharing a quote that inspires me (either positively or negatively) by free-writing about it. I hadn’t really used this writing exercise since being online, despite encouraging other writers in my life to free write, so was pleasantly surprised to end up with over 400 words in just 15 minutes. Here they are — with typos corrected, punctuation & links added along with some words that seemed needed for clarity [which are in square brackets like these |_|)]:

How can one be inspired negatively? It’s obviously being pushed in the other direction [a negative one, since inspiration is typically considered positive |_|)] but isn’t that “discouraged?” When a phrase is discouraging, the only real inspiration happening [personally |_|)] is that I’m inspired to call a quotation’s bluff. How can an inanimate piece of info be bluffing? It’s about the intent & — just like swearing — it’s how something’s said, why & when it’s said as well as how the person quoting (or misquoting ) means it. Since there are so many factors, it’s surprising that so many words thus phrases & eventually oft-cited quotations (as they become more & more common) end up having a crowd-sourced meaning, & said meaning depends on the crowd one spends time with. Many religious people [for example |_|)] see individual swear words as negative while the generation [usually considered ‘Generation Y’ |_|)] just now getting out into the world & standing on their own with all that entails, including far fewer restrictions, use swear words as adjectives. Since a word that evokes a reaction simply by being said immediately adds meaning to any discourse, how can those of us willing to cuss not use them? Here we are, back at meaning again tho’; for example, saying “fuck” vs “fuck off” [with only the latter having a negative connotation regardless of one's take on swearing |_|)] then there’s “no pain, no gain” for a spoonie [as living with chronic pain changes an otherwise encouraging concept |_|)] which leads to well-known favorites like “c’est la vie.” One such phrase I’ve taken to quoting, expressing that something’s already done or can’t be changed, maybe even referencing a difference of opinion — What is this versatile quotation? — It is what it is. Now, before this turns into a “Who’s on first” routine, it really “is what it is.” No, wait, it’s actually “it is what it is” & I came across an article sometime ago that listed [it as one of |_|)] “7 Popular Negative Phrases.” First of all, context people, context. That’s as important to words as ‘location, location, location’ is to real estate. However, parsing the phrase’s most basic meaning shows that it’s saying exactly what anyone should take from it: that something exists & therefore is; or that the state of something has changed (or been made clear) so is now known, thus acknowledged as being. There are also the times when an opinion is expressed &, whatever the reaction or sentiment aside from that opinion, it too “is what it is” & may or may not change but, regardless of the future direction or hope for change, it just is what it currently is — [at least |_|)] for the time-being.

When I read the article declaring those seven popular phrases negative, this was my reaction:

As valid as most of this list is, it not only criticizes “Que Sera, Sera” which always cheers me up but the put-down of the 1st phrase was clearly written by someone without any experience with chronic illness or other disability (I hope they appreciate their luck. ~_^). “It is what it is” is not a reaction but an acceptance &, when you live with issues that cannot be readily changed, acceptance is actually the key to staying positive!

/rant from one #spoonie who admittedly says both a lot ~_~

A fellow spoonie added, “i pretty much agree with the list except for ‘I can’t.’ if ur BODY can’t, then U can’t. #spoonies know this.”

I’ve been blogging off & on for years, have more recently opened up about my health (or lack thereof ~_^) & feel incomplete when my world isn’t as digital as it is physical yet I stopped updating this blog nearly three years ago. There were a number of practical reasons from repeated moving thus intermittent internet to a steady decrease in that so-called health of mine, yet losing my Grandma three years ago seems to be the real culprit. She taught me, amidst many other marvelous wonders & wisdom like “the dread is worse than the doing,” that people have more than one soulmate; we were each lucky enough to have married ours while also having another in each other — our husbands’ souls being complementary whereas our own mirrored the other’s. I’ll always miss her but, as Dan Fogelberg might say, “I am her living legacy.”

Speaking of legacies, I’ve been challenged by WEGO Health to consider what my own might be. April is Health Activist Writer’s Month at WEGO — a month dedicated to the art of writing… about health — & they’re hosting a Health Activist Writer’s Month Challenge (#HAWMC) with a writing prompt for each day of the month. If not only I but my health were memorialized, there would be purple & prose & poetry & perspectives that would seem more than just passe but downright preposterous. “What wit,” they would say, “what wisdom — no doubt thanx to these loved ones she’s commemorated — but wait; what’s this? Why would anyone have to go without healthcare?! How did she stay so positive despite so very much pain??”

As those who open my Health Time Capsule in 100 years get caught up in a collection of my favorite things, from a coffee press to the moonstones from my favorite beach, they find themselves longing for such simple pleasures as a picture forms of someone who makes the most of each moment. Then, reading thru my blogs & books, they discover that the simplicity of my life was a joy but not a choice. The more keepsakes, writings & pictures those future kindred spirits peruse; the more they understand the choice I did make, to enjoy. Each new item expressing my limitations either includes or is closely followed by an expression of appreciation for what couldn’t be limited. In the end, it will be my trusty sidekick, Chester C. Cane, that exemplifies my seemingly contradictory existence for the very need of a cane not only pronounces me disabled but announces my disability for all to see — making my illness less invisible. There again, a potential negative proves to be positive. Just as a cane has its own limitations but helps me better cope with mine, my legacy may be shaped by all I can’t do but will be filled with all the more appreciation for what I can.

I married a girl some time ago and there was this whole family that came along with the deal.

My dad had drawn his final breath way back in ‘76 and, although mom and I were pretty close, I hadn’t had any kind of “real family” for years. I’d get up to see her around Christmas time but it was never a big holiday affair.

I’d drop in, bringing the girl with me after 1990, and we’d stay a day or two, usually around the holiday season but never on Christmas day itself.. that just never worked out. We’d bring her something (one year it was a puppy who ended up being with us for the next ten years) and she’d always have a little something for us.

Mom wasn’t about “fuss and bother,” as she called it. She’d do a bit of Christmas shopping and get it all sent off to distant relatives who seldom came to see her. Sometimes they’d send her something. I always brought mine in person.

In 1993, she joined my dad. We inherited the pup, Rufus, and proceeded to miss her terribly. We still do.

But I always had Camp Nelson.

The girl I married had told me about the place early on, back when we were just hanging out with one another. She said she’d been raised there and that there was nothing closer to heaven-on-earth. Well, that sounded like a good place to get married, so that’s what we did. We tied the knot and vowed to be faithful before God and everyone else right there in a tiny, idealistic little chapel that looked like something out of Little House on the Prairie, except there wasn’t a prairie for miles.. only gorgeous, breathtaking mountains.

A few months later, I was invited to spend the first (for me) of what would later become an annual tradition.. the Camp Nelson family Christmas trip.

You’ll find the place nestled among the Sierra-Nevada Mountains of California in the Sequoia National Forest. You drive past the valley town of Porterville and hit the highway to the mountains, enduring an hour on a twisting, winding snake of a road that brings you into the former first world war encampment of Camp Nelson, now home to mainly retirees and mountain folk.

The place looks like Norman Rockwell and John Muir got together and designed a town, after having first asked advice from Thomas Kinkade and Ansel Adams.

“Everybody needs beauty as well as bread,
places to play in and pray in where nature may heal and cheer and give strength to the body and soul.”
~ John Muir ~

I remember that first Christmas visit well. I’d been there a few times by then, but the girl was right.. there was nothing like Christmas in Camp Nelson. A silent hush emanated from the snow, broken by the crunch of our footsteps as we stepped from our car after pulling into the little driveway in front of the cabin. If you stood still for just a few seconds, you could hear the trees breathe.

Granddad Don knew a car had pulled up, so the front door flew open and there he stood, his curiosity satisfied once he saw that it was his “little brown-eyes” and her shiny new husband. He welcomed us in, and in we went.

We stayed for several days and, for that whole time,
the welcome never wore out.

Others arrived and they too were ushered in with open arms. Aunts, uncles, cousins, friends.. they poured into the cabin and rendered it a sanctuary of acceptance and love. It was a place to forget the woes of the year, even though they were lightly discussed before dinner, but as if they had happened to someone else. We didn’t know worry and stress while we were there. There just wasn’t room for it.

Granddad Don would fix Grandma Peg a “sock-it-to-me”.. a bit of holiday cheer in a glass. She’d regale us with tales from the old days, about family and friends who’d long since passed. I didn’t know of those people, but that wasn’t a requisite for finding charm in her stories. Granddad would chime in and, as often happens with those who’ve been together for a lifetime, they’d spend a great deal of time discussing the finer points of things that may or may not have happened and how they happened, if they did happen at all, depending on who was doing the remembering.

Aunt Donna visited for a few of those Christmases. My girl’s maternal aunt, she was a gracious soul who’d busy herself with things to be done.. dinner preparation, dishes, a spot of cleaning, a little gift wrapping and then a nice nature walk among those majestic trees to cap it off. Her sister would occasionally accompany her on a stroll along the crunchy, snowy paths and they’d gab on endlessly as if they hadn’t seen each other in years.

It’s been years now since Donna herself was peacefully laid to rest under those majestic trees, after cancer ferociously claimed her fragile body. Her gracious, loving soul flew on and soared like an eagle. Today, as Christmas comes around once again, she patiently awaits the great reunion.

“Take your time,” she says, “there’s plenty for you all to do yet.”

I haven’t had many holiday visits up there in that mountain heaven, where John Denver, Andy Williams and Bing Crosby sang us Christmas tunes and the wispy smell of the fireplace warmed my spirit. But I’ll cherish what few I was invited to with a grateful heart. The time came when life in the mountains was proving to be too much for such hearty old souls as Don and Peg, particularly with the loss of Donna stinging so badly. Things would never be the same for them without her cheery and loving visits so they moved to the valley below, sadly leaving the glorious cabin to be an empty, lonely sentry of God’s creation. Yet, although the memories are cherished, the place only plays a small part of it, since Christmas is really in the heart.

My girl and I have recently passed through a few tough years. A Camp Nelson Christmas has long been a thing of the past, and there have been Christmases spent solely with each other, wherever we have found ourselves. It looks as though this will be one of those years, but after recently having come so close to forever losing my girl, we both know better than ever how much it’s who you’re with and not so much where.

Grandma Peg herself was called home early last year, so Granddad returned to the lonely cabin to wait out that great reunion in solitude. But he won’t be alone this Christmas, because family will be on hand to stoke the fireplace and the memories, to keep both from waning as the night goes on.

We wish we could be with him, but as Grandma Peg is with him in spirit, we are too.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays and HAPPY NEW YEAR to our readers!

Cherish this coming new year and each other.

Cherish the now.

Silliness should be prized. I’ve had the good fortune of being raised with it as it’s always been one of my family’s most prized pursuits. None of us are class clowns or cut-ups (I had to marry to add that to the mix) but we love to laugh. We laugh readily & easily as well as good & long, especially when a shared bit of silly is the cause. Of course, it’s not so much the silliness as sharing it that we find infectious. Inside jokes are a constant. Our favorites are ones that don’t require insider information to be laughable so that anyone can join in. It also helps that those don’t require long memories since my maternal Grandma was the only one with a good memory.

“The more you laugh, The more you fill with glee
And the more the glee, The more we’re a merrier we!”
~ I Love To Laugh, “Mary Poppins” ~

What memories she had! One she shared time & again in her later years has become especially dear. When she & her siblings were quite small, one of her brothers would say, “YOU sooo siil-ly!” Grandma not only remembered it but quoted it exactly as that little boy during the Great Depression had said it. Such an appropriate remembrance too for she never would talk much about her childhood struggles; just pointing out that everyone does in one way or another. It was the little things she shared, like those long-ago words of her brother or a cherished doll (so rare amidst such poverty & no doubt the reason she collected dolls throughout her life).

“I have made it a rule of my life never to regret and never to look back. Regret is an appalling waste of energy… you can’t build on it; it’s only good for wallowing in.”
~ Katherine Mansfield ~

Optimism is a choice. While it does come more naturally for some than others, when paired with our often opposing natural inclinations, it’s a powerful tool. My mum tends to be pessimistic by nature but so childlike in her faith & hope that optimism is the knife she uses to cut her pessimism down to size. It wasn’t until Grandma’s recent death that I fully realized she was a Realistic Optimist just like me although I’d long understood that our souls saw the world in the same way. She considered us soulmates, teaching me early on that true connections are made through the soul & are never limited to romantic relationships.

Our souls are also how we connect to the world. The eyes are considered windows to that one part of us that is wholly unlike anyone else not solely because they allow a glimpse in but more importantly because it’s how we should be looking out. Memories, while precious, aren’t what make us who we are as is typically believed. My own broken brain & fictional explorations like Joss Whedon’s “Dollhouse” call such common wisdom (as if wisdom is ever common) into question. It’s our souls that define us & our experiences that shape us, regardless of how or if they’re remembered.

“There can be no knowledge without emotion. We may be aware of a truth, yet until we have felt its force, it is not ours. To the cognition of the brain must be added the experience of the soul.”
~ Arnold Bennett ~

Remembrance is simply a journey, along a path the lucky ones hope is true. Our strongest memories are born of our strongest emotions so the mosaic of our life has amazing & horrible moments equally highlighted. It really was the best of times & the worst of times but we choose which we want to build from. Of the numerous things my Grandma imparted to me, by far the most precious was her ability to focus on the good in myself & others. My mum & her parents each provided unconditional love; Granddad accepts people as they are which he passed on to his daughter who wanted me so badly she couldn’t help but love me while Grandma, as she did with everyone, saw all my flaws but never let them keep her from seeing all my potential.

“There is one thing one has to have: either a soul that is cheerful by nature, or a soul made cheerful by work, love, art, and knowledge.”
~ Friedrich Nietzsche ~

Disappointment’s a given, hurt an inevitable risk & betrayal a likely eventuality. It’s not just human frailty that keeps things a far cry from perfect, our own circumstances work against us. To live is to live in interesting times. There are no easy fixes or guarantees; luck runs out, loved ones die, we let ourselves & others down, they reciprocate, no amount of hard work or positive thought leads to a particular outcome, goals can only keep you on track & acting on your dreams may not make a damn bit of difference. Letting any of that stop you is the only form of failure that really exists though.

“There are three things in life which are real: God, human folly, and laughter. The first two are beyond our comprehension so we must do what we can with the third.”
~ Indian Proverb ~

Laughter, recovery, love, perseverance; these are just as much a part of the human condition yet must be chosen. Grandma lived with everything listed previously but refused to get stuck in those aspects of life. In my own life, when I came close to not graduating high school, my mum wisely let her mum take over for a time & the truth Grandma consequently explained was the beginning of the beginning for me. She let me know in no uncertain terms that everything I did affected those who loved me & I had no choice in the matter because they would never stop loving me. It’s not that I thought unconditional love was a free pass but I hadn’t sorted the truth. It’s a responsibility.

“Just as despair can come to one only from other human beings, hope too, can be given to one only by other human beings.”
~ Elie Wiesel ~

If we affect others without even trying, imagine the impact we can have on ourselves. The brilliance of my Grandma-given epiphany was that she specifically did not say I was hurting those I love, forcing me to face that the ripples were out of my control. When we’re struggling — be it financially, physically or psychologically — we tend to think we can limit the collateral damage by withdrawing. The reality is that we can’t make progress from that inward stance & those who are invested in us are already along for the ride. Whatever our progress or lack thereof, if we remember we’re not traveling alone, won’t we want to make the most of the trip?

Take life on, take others for who they really are & take in the good while accepting the bad so that you too can live as my Grandma did. Never one to hold back her opinions or not pursue her own interests, she learned to balance those needs with kindness & patience. She may have never gotten to live at the beach but she loved her community & there were things she didn’t accomplish but she whole-heartedly enjoyed the things she did. Always the better reflection of me, she’s put me back on track one final time & will always light my way. I’m used to having two mothers to call on this important holiday; instead, my mum & I will honor the one we shared by living our lives anew & making it a fun journey for all involved.

“What soap is to the body, laughter is to the soul.”
~ Yiddish Proverb ~

We’ll start with a little silliness..

(|_|*cheers*|_|)
“You have to do your own growing no matter how tall your grandfather
[or grandmother] was.”
~ Abraham Lincoln [Grandma's hero, beside Granddad] ~

We are blessed to have known her

She made our lives rich – vibrant – better

She was our mother – our grandmother – our friend

wife – sister – aunt

She’s gone on now, to be with those who wait for us

and look over us and pray for us

She knows and understands and loves all the more

and she shall be dearly missed

Beulah “Peg” Dorey

1923 – 2009

We love you

“Always too soon, even when right
time runs out despite our best denial
amidst feeling cheated, reason unable to reign
made incomplete by loss yet more complete
for knowing her”
dorian

If I could say only two words to you, they’d be thank you. Since I can no longer say anything directly to you, why stop at two? I always had more to say than you did so this refusal to yield will come as no surprise to you. A refusal to yield is, in fact, something we had in common. I can only hope to match your unyielding faith, loyalty & defense of those you loved thus were loyal to. Your quiet yet fierce determination to do your part showed in your amazing self-sufficiency as well as your selfless care for others. The latter was extended to whomever was in need, known & unknown alike, but especially to your son. RhodesTer, who you raised & eventually let me borrow in turn, embodies your best qualities.

You didn’t readily entrust me with your only child which just made the trust won in the end that much more meaningful. While I can’t help but mourn not getting to know each other until the end of your life, I wouldn’t trade in that opportunity or even its timing. If not for the crazy circumstances that brought Dave & I to live with you in 1993, you & I would never have come to appreciate each other. Worse yet, you would have died alone. It’s not a worthy excuse for losing you a month shy of your sixtieth birthday but there’s no other conceivable time we would’ve — or could’ve — been there. The day you were meant to turn 60, I celebrated my own milestone.. 25. I started the next quarter century of my life while sorting yours & with a husband in deep mourning.

Being born on the same date implies similar personalities; we were likely more alike than we ever realized. Despite our glaring differences, I think we’re remarkably similar at the core. I was an avid list-maker & pack-rat til I spent a year making sense of your many lists & boxes upon boxes upon chests full. While you inadvertently taught me to let go of the mundane, you ensured the sublime was held tighter. From the stunningly perfect-for-me sheets found in one of those chests, presumably awaiting our shared birthday, to the unwitting regifting of dear Rufus, the pup we’d given you our first Christmas together; you continued to care for us in your absence. In the wake of losing you, our commitment to each other & determination to take no moment for granted were crystallized.

You were one who gave til it hurt & we also learned from that. Experiencing how those for whom you’d sacrificed treated your memory was by far the hardest part of tending to your affairs. The so-called relationships lost without you as the glue helped us to sever future ties that weren’t healthy as well. Your life was a testament to actions being louder than words & inspires us still. Of all the lessons & affirmations received from you though, nothing can match how seriously you took the meaning of your son’s name — “beloved” is exactly what he is & should be. Your David, my Dave, the blogosphere’s RhodesTer inspired our most precious commonality for he was chosen by both of us; each knowing that no-one else would or could make us as happy. That phenomenal heart of yours failed you suddenly on this day nearly 20 years ago & far too soon but, OH, it was well used..

(|_|*cheers*|_|)
“There is in all this world
no fount of deep, strong,
deathless love,
save that within
a mother’s heart.”
~ Felicia Hemans ~

PS: Thank you!

From Pooh Corner to poetry
With courage and coffee
Thru Art for art’s sake
She inspirited me

From Upstart Crow to unity
With trust and tea parties
Thru Truth for my sake
She inscribed her love

From Camp Nelson to crazy
With freedom and fantasy
Thru Faith for our sake
She inspires me still

(|_|*ME MUM*|_|)
“A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden, fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts.”
~ Washington Irving ~

Exactly a week ago, my youngest brother turned 24. As Joel nears that quarter-century mark, I’m struck by how much my brothers & I have in common despite how very different we each are. This all too familiar dichotomy may seem a given yet all three of our mum’s children are articulate, artistic & geeky. That’s quite a trifecta; the articulation & artistry we each got in different forms from Momma. I like to imagine I imparted the geeky nerdiness my brothers share with me.

Joel shares his art form with his & Jordan’s dad whereas Jordan is a traditional — though not traditional — artist like mum. I’ve always honored, amidst my aim to live poetically, the complementary roll of art appreciator. What has proven consistent for all three of us is the use of computers in whatever form of artistry we pursue. HDR Rendering, as shown below, is one of the ways Joel combines his two passions; the other being computer science, in which he has a degree.

Our mum’s birthday inspired a poem, Jordan’s birthday inspired a post & then another so I knew I’d commemorate Joel’s birthday on my blog too. He, convincingly no less, expressed appreciation for the more timely if brief well wishes offered in the previous Found Friday post. Last Saturday was not only Joel’s birthday but Momma’s 33rd Anniversary as well thus this post is meant as a gift to her also. Upon going into labor during an anniversary lunch with her husband, Momma tried to give Joel his own day but, generous from the start, he clearly didn’t mind sharing & was born six minutes til midnight.

beauty found in all
whether captured or enhanced
then offered anew

nature always sought
by foot or via the lens
explored and exposed

his kindness of heart
touches those surrounding him
informs all he does

laughter ever near
his wicked sense of humor
readily brought out

once a kissing bug
always a loving spirit
now he’s a hugger

born as if a gift
anniversary surprise
still giving each day

(|_|*cheers*|_|)
“Photography records the gamut of feelings written on the human face, the beauty of the earth and skies that man has inherited, and the wealth and confusion man has created.  It is a major force in explaining man to man.”
~ Edward Steichen ~

PS: HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, MOMMA & DAVID!!

mountain adventures;
hiking, camping, barbeque,
through moments of love

your thirty-three years
provided a family
brothers I’d not have

Thanx for your participation – period - but especially in helping to celebrate new years in the lives of two of my absolutely favorite people. I’m not one who minds telling her age for I feel each year is an accomplishment & every birthday a beginning. Age has never proven an accurate telling of anything other than how long someone’s managed to survive thus far. So, I stubbornly hope that my grandparents being well into their 80s does NOT mean I’m close to losing them & proudly proclaim my own 39 years. Admittedly, it doesn’t hurt that I don’t look 39 & never cease to shock people when I admit that I am; as much for the admittance too, I’m sure, which is half the fun.

The refusal to look our age is a trait, oddly enough, shared by my ENTIRE inner circle. What makes it odd is that we’re not all related although some of us are &, judging by my mum’s parents, none of us will look or act our so-called age for decades more. Taking your age seriously is just as detrimental as taking yourself too seriously & as debilitating as heeding the preconceptions of anything else purely physical. It’s important to extrapolate from the smaller, more readily obvious truths those greater truths that too often get dismissed simply because they’re unexpected. There’s no end to what cannot be told by how someone looks, regardless of what we see.

In order to see beyond our perceptions, we have to watch for what we’re shown. Aside from the apparent access to a fountain of youth, which I presume to be the healthy lust for caffeine we also share, that inner circle of mine is defined by an abiding passion: a driving force to be our true selves. This small subset of the people who know me best are the ones who know me ridiculously well, accept me for exactly who I am & whole-heartedly desire to relate to everyone they meet on that same level. The ability to accept others without hesitation or misconception grows as you come to terms with all that you are & want to be. Real truth is not always pretty & certainly never easy.

While those who are literally my nearest & dearest all share a determination to be whole, it’s Jordan who has redefined the journey for us. Wholeness is found not only in truth to self but of self. He was willing to challenge ALL the suppositions & change EVERYthing he seemingly was. Not a thing was sacred in his process & we who already loved him watched in awe as his essence came into focus. As he radically became a new being, the person within that had long been who held our admiration came to the fore. Even now, upon starting a new year biologically & as the real New Year begins, for today is the Chinese New Year, he’s made his continued evolution the priority.

The lies my body’s telling pale in comparison to the ones he’s had to overcome which is why he inspired the post I wrote for his birthday. Inasmuch as he is an inspiration, the result came nowhere near expressing its impetus. Between it not being my place to divulge too much of someone else’s journey & the simple fact that his bravery is an ongoing encouragement, my effort to write about him evolved in & of itself; into an essay born of what he proves is possible. It’s my hope to share truths along the way but my brother is truth. He has embodied it, becoming a prism off which the myriad lessons we all have to look beyond the mirror to learn can’t help but be reflected.

Such illumination is transcendent, highlighting the changed perspectives that must come before real change can occur. 2008 being a Year of the Rat, a new 12 year cycle of the Chinese Zodiac begins & decisions made during this year are purported to carry long term consequences. This is meant to be a prosperous year, giving the traditional Chinese wishes of prosperity offered at the new year more significance. There’s almost a sense that the promise we’re poised for is reciprocally poised for us. If, like my brother, groundwork has been laid & it’s a foundation of honesty you’re prepared to build on then build unabashedly; taking another cue from him: perseverance.

Neither our mum, Jordan nor I are rats but our younger brother is.. Though Momma’s a rabbit, we older sibs are monkeys & it seems “the monkey who has worked hard will see many rewards in the year of the rat.” My brother has worked tirelessly to change his stars & the stage is set for the person he’s always been but is still becoming to take center. I don’t know what I’ve managed to convey of such a personal journey but Jordan exemplifies that we are our most important cause. External & internal changes not only impact each other but each is incomplete without the other. I encourage us all to seek our specific spotlight for this act in our lives. Perhaps Joel’s rattiness combined with Jordan’s abundant good mojo is an all-encompassing good luck charm.

(|_|*cheers*|_|)
“To attract good fortune, spend a new coin on an old friend, share an old pleasure with a new friend, and lift up the heart of a true friend by writing his name on the wings of a dragon.”
~ Chinese Proverb ~

An ability to see beyond the pale,
Recognizing hope in the shadows,
Trusting first and foremost in love;
Questioning allows for discovery –
An independent view of the world,
Finding wonder in unlikely nooks,
Taking refuge in discovered beauty;
Aesthetic purpose is proven worthy.

Not simply to be sought but created,
Via means personal and miraculous,
Through more than possible alone;
More than creation from only within –
Not just given but allowed in as well,
Born both of intention and request,
Granted as journey and destination;
Nothing but children can encompass.

The innate art in all that is organic,
Exists as fact as well as fulfillment,
Internal naïveté becomes a choice;
With childlike wonder thus achieved –
The need to be and have a child met,
So an inherent wisdom is imparted,
For beauty infuses all said and seen;
Thus self-doubt may stand idly by.

All hesitance is ever more in check,
Seeking truth rather than reasons,
Knowing order exists despite chaos;
Choosing inspiration over defeat –
All is perceived with a loving heart,
Becoming more complete every day,
Fostering creations formed and found;
Artistry that goes beyond the page.

© Dorian Rhodes 24 January 2008

(|_|*cheers*|_|)
I love you with ALL my heart & all to pieces, Momma! <3 xox
May this be the start of an amazing year
filled with truth, beauty, freedom & love..

PS: This wonderful painting is one of my mum’s creations;
“Hold fast to your dreams, for without them life is a broken winged bird
that cannot fly.”
~ Langston Hughes ~