Winter is coming.

Granted, I live in sunny central Florida.  How bad can it be?  But "dark" and "chilly" are not my favorite adjectives.  When winter rolls in I hold my breath until spring.  It is like a test of endurance.  I don't know why.

I already miss the beach days and sunsets that don't happen until nearly 8:00 PM.  I like the drone of cicadas when it is 96 degrees outside and still because it is too hot to move around.  I crave the tantalizing shock of a cool breeze that comes right before a wicked afternoon thunderstorm.

Where are my flip flops?

Tomorrow it will be December.

And I am longing for May.

WS

When what appears lovely comes wrapped in thorns, it is best to say "no thank you."

It's funny some people think it is their duty to tell others what is "wrong" with them, followed by precise instructions how to fix those flaws ASAP, and later they expect glowing expressions of appreciation for their "rightness."  In the absense of your gratitude, they are offended and insulted.

No thank you.

Yes, if I am about to step out in front of a speeding bus, by all means, stop me.  But if "fault finding" has become your hobby, leave me out of it.  I've become rather fond of my faults, and the ones I don't like, I'll manage on my own.  If I need your advice, I'll ask for it.

I'd rather hang out with friends, family, colleagues and mentors whose focus is the depth of our strengths and talents.  I'd rather fan the flames under the stew pot of the positive, because that's the life I want to cook up.  Why cultivate bitterness and negativity?

Life is challenging enough.

Take a close look at the gifts you are giving and receiving.  Be sure they are wrapped in love.

Peace,

WS

                            If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.
                                                                                                    
I wonder if I have it in me to be still and steady.

It's funny because most people would consider me to be the picture of still and steady, but on the inside, I am often wild-eyed and jumpy.  With the snap of a twig, I am running.  I wasn't always like that.  I used to be like a docile old plow horse, willing to bear the weight of the collar and peacefully shouldering whatever demands were placed before me.  Until I found the courage to break out of the barn.  Every soul reaches a point where subordination becomes unbearable.

Why must horses be broken?  Why do we feel the need to bend the wild will to domesticity?  What drives us to submit to a master or to demand dominion over another?

Does a balance exist between the mustang me and the draft horse me?  Does it exist in you?  I would like to find a barn that offers shelter and security without dark confinement.  I've had a glimpse or two of that but the reality has been as elusive as a storm, rumbling in and passing by faster than I could keep up.  No matter how fast I gallop, the thunder clouds are faster.  Out of breath, I stop and stand and watch them roll away.

They are free and I am wishful.

WS

                                        "There will be an answer...let it be."
                                                                                    Let It Be, by The Beatles

There are times when patience is more painful than defeat.

Patience has become my nemesis, even while I know it may become my saving grace.  Because it gnaws at me like a dog on a bone, I understand not only must I allow it to invade; I need to find a way to welcome it willingly, to yield to its authority, to sip tea with it and exchange pleasantries while it extracts my every remaining stronghold of resistance.  Patience is not my nature.  To submit to it is like learning to write upside-down and backwards with my left hand.

As with all necessary lessons for the reluctant and the timid (or the defiant and incorrigible), the Universe is quite happy to wrap you in chains of circumstance where the only release is through the lesson you seem most determined not to learn.  There is one key and it is freely available - unless, of course, you'd rather rub away at the links bit by bit with a nail file.  The choice is yours really - the easy way or the hard way - no matter.

For me, the easy way is the hard way.

I like closure.  I am a list-writer and I am an item-checker-offer.  When I complete something - check - I can move on.  If something remains incomplete, I ruminate and fret over it.  I devise strategies in my head to hasten a final result.  In the absence of a happy ending, I would prefer a bad ending over no ending at all.  The unfinished for me is as intolerable as the tingles that come when your foot falls asleep and suddenly starts to wake up.  I find it very hard to endure peacefully.

An open parentheses needs a closed parentheses.

How long should one wait for an answer from another? At what point does lingering indecision become the decision?  Over what distance in time does a plaintive call return as a haunting and lonely echo?

There will be an answer...of some sort.

Let it be.

Take refuge in the warmth of the tea.

Tea in the Sahara.

I wonder when patience turns to foolishness, when hope becomes a delusion.  When might love reveal itself to be a mirage? Is there yet an oasis to be found for the diligent and resolute?

Hindsight is the only thing that peddles certainty, but even that decays over time.  Regret, like patience, is something I may yet have to face with as much dignity as I can gather.  There may be lush vibrance on the other side of this, or only dry brittle bones. One never knows, but it will be only through submission to patience that the chains will fall away in their own good time.

Tick tock,

WS

"Would you not rather greet the summer sun than fix your gaze upon a disappearing snowflake, and shiver in rememberance of the winter's cold?"
                                                                                A Course in Miracles

This is about holding on to the bad things.

This is about wrong and right and the illusions that create them.

One of the Dr. Phil-isms that I find helpful is the question he often asks: "Do you want to be right or do you want to be happy?"  What does he mean by that?  In this context, what does it mean to be "right"?

I think what he means is, do you want to be right by proving others to be wrong?  Right being superior or more valuable.  Wrong being inferior or less valuable.  This is not the same as right meaning correct or more appropriate.

For example, I am always seeking to be on my "right path".  Is this path leading me where I want to go?  Am I feeling good about what is happening here and do I feel fulfilled?  Those are the questions I ask myself to decide if I am on the right track.

As you know, I am in school.  I will openly admit to putting a high value on my GPA.  Yes...I am a dork.  The reason I do however is that I am trying to suck every ounce of value out of my education because, darn it, it is HARD.  If I get an A on a test or an A on a paper, this is my clue that I am tuned in and getting the value out of the teaching and the learning.  It is like a traffic signal.  Green light - go, red light - back up and study some more.

But what about that other definition of right - the one we're willing to fight over and attack each other over?  What about that one?

That definition begins with the perception of a slight or a trespass.  Someone has to do something wrong.  A victim has to be created and an offender.  The victim then has to take on the role of accuser and the offender has to go on the defensive.  Before you know it you have two opposing packs of snarling dogs...both tense and ready to defend or attack (is there a difference?) at a moment's notice.  Without each side holding on tight to their own ideas of what happened and being vigilant in defending their "rightness", the war could not continue.

Peace is not the result of proving who was right and who was wrong.  Peace is releasing both sides from the fight.

Peace is choosing the space between.

Thank you, Dave Matthews.

The space between the wicked lies (we tell ourselves) and the hope to keep safe from pain.

Maybe no one meant to hurt anyone else.  Ever.  Maybe they thought they were being hurt.  Maybe they didn't mean that either.

If we hold onto the cold, bitter, cruel winter, we may never notice the warmth and light.  We each hold the summer sun within us.  We each have the power to move towards that which is positive and good in others and share what is positive and good in ourselves.

"The space between the bullets in our firefight
Is where I'll be hiding, 
Waiting for you"

How do we let go of wrong or right?

Put down the pointing fingers.

"Take my hand 'cause we're walking out of here..."

Reach out.  Gently, hands and heart outstretched.

"Love is all we need, dear."

WS