Don't postpone...

 

 A JOYful Recommendation • Don't postpone JOY until the end of the journey. Live it every step of the way. ~unknown 

Sherri ❤ Incredible JOY on Facebook

Nana's coat

 

This is my Nana’s coat. My Nana died yesterday.

When someone suffers from a terminal illness, you think you’ll know what to expect when they eventually pass away; you like to imagine that you’ll be somewhat emotionally equipped for it. I was under this impression too, and for the most part I was right. I was composed when I received the message that she had passed, and when I arrived at her house and saw her afterwards, and when the doctor came to verify her death. I was composed when I kissed her forehead for the last time and watched the undertakers carry her away.

I held it together for almost the entire day. It was only as we were getting ready to leave her house that the silliest thing got to me; I caught sight of her coat hanging off the banister. It was the most profoundly forlorn thing I’d ever seen.

It had not been moved since she had placed it there, which was the last time she ever left her house, on Christmas Day last year. It was hung up when she arrived home like it would be on any other day, only it didn’t know that this was the last time it would ever be worn. There was something so hauntingly sad about seeing it hang there in its normal place like it was waiting to be picked up and worn again.

It wasn’t until this moment that I realised she was really gone. It dawned on me that ‘gone’ isn’t some throwaway term or vast black hole by which you can define the absence of someone; it’s the little empty spaces, like a vacant armchair or the slippers by their bed or a redundant coat hanging off the end of the stairs.

‘Gone’ is the half-finished scarf in my Nana’s knitting bag and the packet of jelly babies in her treat cupboard with only half the contents left. ‘Gone’ is the dreadfully trashy subscription magazines on her coffee table which won’t ever get to be read. ‘Gone’ is the hideous 1970’s electric fireplace in her living room that she’ll never switch on again. ‘Gone’ is the watering can sat inside her conservatory, painfully unaware that she won’t be using it to bring her beautiful garden to life this Spring.

When we lose someone, we scan our minds for the most striking memories we have; we look for the big and the brilliant, for the sentimental and the sensational.

In our search for these, we often overlook the charm of the wonderfully ordinary moments in between. I stand in my Nana’s kitchen now and I wish so much that I could just watch her fold her laundry or clean her dishes or make herself a cup of tea – inane, trivial things we take for granted but would kill to experience one more time when it’s all over.

I won’t end this on a patronising, platitudinous, ‘you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone’ kinda note. I’ll leave you with something a little more unconventional: appreciate it the next time you see your loved one put on their coat. Savour that second where they’re stood in front of you in the flesh; in glorious living form, touchable and huggable and real. Embrace the image of them cooking or drinking from their favourite mug or smiling as they walk through the front door.

These are the moments that string together each and every existence. These are the moments which punctuate every beautiful, understated day, so hold on to the value of each moment before it becomes a memory. Squeeze it tight in your heart because one day, unbeknownst to you, will be the last time you’ll ever experience it. One day you may just find yourself in the position that I’m in now; standing before an abandoned coat, wishing you could hug the person who was once inside it just one more time.

Until we meet again, Nana x

Credit: Amy Peckham-Driver

Source Facebook - Daily Dose of Kindness

Linda Ronstadt - Ooo Baby Baby artist series

I am one of those searchers.

 

"I am one of those searchers. There are, I believe, millions of us. We are not unhappy, but neither are we completely content. We continue to explore ourselves, hoping to understand. We like to walk along the beach; we are drawn to the ocean, taken by its power and unceasing motion, its mystery and unspeakable beauty. We like forests, mountains, deserts, hidden rivers, and lovely cities as well. Our sadness is as much a part of our lives as our laughter. We are ambitious only for life itself and for anything beautiful it can provide. Most of all, we want to love and be loved, to live in a relationship that will not impede our wanderings and prevent our search. We do not want to prove ourselves to others or compete for love. This passage is for wanderers, dreamers, and lovers who dare to ask of life everything which is good and beautiful." 

~ JamesKavanaugh

Photo by Ben Rayner

Source: Facebook - The Lilac Road

This is what grief is.

 

This is what grief is.
A hole ripped through the very fabric of your being.
The hole eventually heals along the jagged edges that remain. It may even shrink in size.
But that hole will always be there.
A piece of you always missing.
For where there is deep grief, there was great love.
Don’t be ashamed of your grief.
Don’t judge it.
Don’t suppress it.
Don’t rush it.
Rather, acknowledge it.
Lean into it.
Listen to it.
Feel it.
Sit with it.
Sit with the pain. And remember the love.
This is where the healing will begin.

Source: Facebook - Amazing and beautiful world

'Victory In Jesus' performed beautifully by The Band Steele (Live Acoustic)

SWEETGRASS

The elders tell us that it takes longer for us to heal today and the reason is because the old trails our ancestors used to use to find us have been destroyed....so now our ancestors are having a hard time finding us to help us heal.

We are also told that was the first plant to grow on Mother Earth

When we harvest Sweetgrass,we get three bunches of seven strands

So there will be 21 pieces of grass,,

We do not pull it, this is the hair of Mother Earth.

We braid the three strands of seven pieces right there on Mother Earth

Then we gently cut it

If we want to state our intentions,, we can bring tobacco as to bring Creator in on our words as to how we will use this

For an offering we can offer something the plant can use,, like water,

So offer the relations around it, it’s brothers and sisters,mother and father

And so on,give them a gift of water.

When we burn sweetgrass, remember these things:

Its a kindness medicine...with a sweet gentle aroma when we light it.

Its symbolic...

There are 21 strands used to make a braid...

The first 7 strands represent those 7 generations behind us~

Our parents

Our grandparents

Our great grandparents and so on for

7 generations behind us~who we are and what we are is because of them~they've brushed and made the trails we have been walking up til now...but the trails have been destroyed, we have lost our connection.

The time has come to heal and reconnect with our ancestors.

The next 7 represent the 7 sacred teachings...

Love, Respect, Honesty, Courage, Wisdom, Truth and Humility.

The elders tell us how simple, powerful and beautiful the teaching are:

1 Love: unconditional affection with no limits or conditions that starts with loving yourself.

2 Respect: due regard for the feelings, wishes, rights or traditions of other, with consideration, thoughtfulness, attentiveness, politeness, courtesy, civility, deference.

3 Honestly: have a character of integrity, and honor be free from fraud or deception, legitimate truthful.

4 Courage: bravery, permitting one to face extreme dangers with boldness withstanding danger, fear or difficulty

5 Wisdom: the quality of having experience, knowledge and good judgment the quality of being wise.

6 Truth: the face of the matter, veracity, sincere, candor and genuineness

a determined in principle entirely by how it relates to things

7 Humility: freedom from pride or arrogance, being humble, when we truly understand the teaching of humility, that we are not any better then anyone else and you are not any better then me. that at the end of the day we are simply human beings, this is what makes this teaching powerful and beautiful.

The last 7 strands are those of the 7 generations in front of us~

Our children .....

Our grandchildren .....

Our great grandchildren .....

as well as those children yet to be born.

It is important because everything we do to Mother earth will one day effect them... We have lost our way, Mother Earth gives us everything we need to heal ourselves and the earth. We must go back to our roots and bloom.

~ Marty Stompingelk

Source: Facebook - Farmers' Way