When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be. When I let go of what I have, I receive what I need. –Lao Tzu
I’m dancing alone. I try to live a simple, uncomplicated life. I get rid of “stuff” whenever I can. If you visit me, you’ll not find a home cluttered with “stuff.” I carry what I treasure in my heart and memories. I know what I carry in my heart and memory will not rust, wear out, rot, or decay.
Living simply for me is learning to let go. It’s not easy to let go of things Babe and I carried with us for years. Many of these “things” carry special memories. Yet, when Babe died, letting go hurt like hell. I didn’t want to do it. I knew I had to do it if I were to open my heart to healing. Letting go is saying goodbye, waving farewell and Godspeed to a friend as a friend leaves on a journey I can’t follow, at least not yet. I cannot stay standing still watching the horizon waiting for my friend to return. Life asks me to turn around and return to living life. I find it is letting my friend go, trusting God to take care of my friend and to guide me on my path forward.
Letting go of the big things makes letting go of the little things easier. As Lao Tzu says in the quote above, “When I let go of what I have, I receive what I need.” I’ve found this to be true in my life.
It’s all I have to bring today —
This, and my heart beside —
This, and my heart, and all the fields —
And all the meadows wide —
Be sure you count — should I forget
Some one the sum could tell —
This, and my heart, and all the Bees
Which in the Clover dwell.
Yesterday’s gone, tomorrow waits over the horizon. Today is clay given to me to create something wonderful, something memorable, something beautiful. My creation doesn’t have to change the world or win a Noble prize. It doesn’t have to be newsworthy, and no researcher ever find reason to write about it. My creation will reside in my heart and in the hearts of all who pass my way. It may be as simple as filling my bird feeder, picking litter off the street, or holding the door for someone to pass through. It may be in the smile I share with a stranger, a listening ear to a friend who needs to talk, or a heartfelt prayer to our loving God for healing someone’s pain.
Today is full of infinite possibilities for the creative heart. My investment in my creative activities is priceless, it is the gift of myself, fully to this day and each creative moment.
Here’s to all who seize the creative possibilities of today.
I grew up in a mill town, 30 miles south of Boston. My mom and dad worked in shoe factories in my early years. Across the street from our apartment home was a four-story shoe factory converted into a chicken factory. I’m not sure how many chickens were in the factory at any given time, thousands, probably. In the summer, when it was hot, and the wind fresh from the south, the not so fragrant smell of chicken manure hung in the air so thick you could almost see it. Everyone in the apartments thought it was normal. No one ever complained. Smelling chicken manure was our everyday experience. That memory came back to me when I thought of about my blog. A childhood experience is teaching me an important lesson for where I am at in my dancing alone life.
What is the lesson? Don’t live across the street from a chicken factory, right? That a lesson for sure, but not the one I that came to mind. The lesson I learned was more like understanding how getting used to things is easy and often makes the absurd feel normal. If I get used to feeling sorry for myself it soon feels normal. I may want company and hang around with people who shared the same philosphy. Man, that kind of company I don’t need. Or, as my dad would say, “Ray, I need that like I need a hole in the head.” He frequently said that, honest.
I have another choice, I can wake up, realize I don’t have to be stuck in an emotionally or physically unhealthy place. I can declare, I choose to live. I choose to embrace life. I choose to be around people who are happy, optimistic, and see life as a wonderful God-give gift.
Takeaways:
Live with hope.
Live with joy in your heart and song on your lips.
I live in south Texas. South Texas. If you are unaware of a south Texas factoid, taco time is a south Texas tradition. Since today is Thursday, I could call it Taco Thursday. Hold that thought. Every day is taco day except for burrito or fajita day. Guacamole doesn’t have its own day. Not to worry, I want to start a petition drive to make June 11, Guacamole Day. Why did I pick Junio once? The only truthful answer I can give is that I’m right brained, random, and skip around my thoughts like a bee on rose bush flitting from flower to flower. Babe always told me the way I think is the reason she would insist on hiring electricians, plumbers, tree pruners, and anything that requires concentrated attention for more than ten seconds.
It’s time to get down to serious Taco Time business for a guy dancing alone. Since my concentration wavers after ten seconds, I go with a single guy’s trusted friend, slow cooker. The only decision I need to make is eight hours or four hours. How hard is that? Let me think about it, I’ll get back to you in an hour (guy humor).
If I use the slow cooker, it’s twenty minutes prep time tops, walk away and come back eight hours later. Talk about a walk in faith – the slow cooker told me to chill, it’ll all work out.
I like to make my cooking life easy. The biggest problem with a slow cooker is clean up – NOT SO FAST! I buy cooking inserts and place one in the slow cooker. Right after I line the slow cooker with the liner, I add a whole jar of low sodium, high on the heat salsa. What’s a taco without the heat? Check it out.
So far, thirty seconds. I walk to the fridge, open the freezer. I’m in luck, one baggie of chicken filets. I didn’t check earlier. This is one of the reasons, I don’t qualify to be a pilot, surgeon, or electrician. I place the frozen chicken in the slow cooker, hustle to the yard and pick some rosemary and let it add color and flavor to mix.
The rosemary and chicken holler the fiesta is boring, they need company. I hear a knock on the door, open it, and I hear, “Let the party begin.” It’s poblano pepper, jalapeno pepper, onion, and red pepper. Tagging along behind the group is basil.
I put the cover on the slow cooker, set the time for eight hours. Hasta luego baby. In a couple of hours, it is smelling good. I toss in a bit of red pepper (I wasn’t kidding about the heat), take a long slow breath because it’s smelling so good. I put the cover on the slow cooker and a bib on me because I’m drooling.
I had a good day and didn’t worry about dinner. A half hour before dinner, I go to work, set the table, make a salad, and a dish of first of the season strawberries and blueberries. It’s easy. It’s healthy. It’s yum-oh. And, it’s Taco Time. I kept the tradition alive.
There are things that we don’t want to happen but have to accept, things we don’t want to know but have to learn, and people we can’t live without but have to let go. ~Author Unknown
Why does it take so long to acquire wisdom? I consider myself intelligent. I earned a doctorate. I had a stellar career in higher education. Yet, I am a slow learner. My uneducated dad would tell my brother and me we had a great education, but the university forgot to teach us common sense. I always got a laugh out of that one.
In my dad’s lived experience of growing up with ten siblings, raised by a single mom after his father died, living through the great depression, and fighting in WW II allowed him to gain human wisdom. He called it common sense. He learned early on the things life is now teaching me. I learned:
Trusting God is better than asking why.
Living in the present moment is better than living in the past.
Having a hope-filled heart is better than having a bitter heart.
Knowing love wins, love always wins is better than not knowing or ever having experienced love.
I planned ahead for this week when I went shopping over the weekend. I bought red, green, jalapeno, and poblano peppers. The peppers invited two of their BFFs, sweet onions, and mushrooms. So sweet onions went into the shopping cart. As for the mushrooms, I bought the already sliced kind. I want to save my fingers for blogging.
It didn’t take me long to decide on the star for this meal. Do I hear a drumroll? The announcer speaks, “And, here’s shrimp, straight out of a great appearance in the Gulf.” You know my dancing alone, single guy rule, “HEALTHY & EASY.” I bought frozen, already peeled, deveined, and cooked shrimp. I might get three meals out of the bag.
I’m going to make a Stir Fry, shrimp and veggie meal. I’m a visual guy. I see things in my mind’s eye before they become real. In my mind’s eye, my meal looks so good, the Food Channel wants me to compete with Bobby Flay. In my dreams, right? I’ll answer that, right!
Making this meal is easy. It’s healthy. And, it’s fun. I try to put lots of love into my meals. That’s a lesson Babe taught me. She’d say, “Ray, always give thanks for the food, the people who farmed it, those who harvested it, and the people who brought it to the marketplace.” Babe was spot on. I’ll show how I prepared this meal in steps.
Step one: Get the veggies ready for fiesta. I sliced and diced my way through red, green, and poblano peppers. I’m only feeding one guy, so I used a half of each type of pepper. I placed the remainder in baggies for another meal. I sliced and diced a chunk of onion – that’s how a guy measures, in chunks. I poured EVOO over it and tossed the veggies together. I wanted them to get to know each other a bit better before dinner. Let’s call it an icebreaker for veggies.
Step Two – Turn up the heat. I spray my pan with Pam and add a splash of EVOO (guy speak) and turn up the heat to high. I put the glass cover on the pan and wait a minute or two for the popping sound. When I hear it, it’s time for the veggies, They hit the pan with a nice sizzling sound. I cut some fresh from the garden basil and rosemary and add it to the mix, put the top back on and watch ESPN for a few minutes. Every once in a while I have to go to work and turn the mix over. In the meantime, I take the shrimp out of the freezer. I think fifteen is a nice number, no, I’m not preparing food for a Quinceañera (note the number 15). My friends tell me my sense of humor is a little out of step. I pop the shrimp in the microwave for one minute to mostly thaw. Then, I toss (I was going to say dump, but I’m watching my guy speak language) the shrimp in with the veggies. I grab my iced tea take a long sip, check out ESPN again. I flip the combo around like they’re doing the salsa on a Friday night and I’m ready for the next step.
Step Three – Adding the money – Well, not actually money, but the green stuff, which is money because it is so good for your health – I add spinach and chopped kale. I don’t add them until the veggie’s and shrimp are nearly done. Here’s the deal with spinach and kale. They cook quickly.
Spinach Added
Kale Added
I made myself a healthy meal. It was fun to cook, great to eat, and it was easy (good thing I’m buddies with the dishwasher). Check it out:
“A single sunbeam is enough to drive away many shadows.” ―Saint Francis of Assisi
Grieving has taught me to look outward, to search for the light, and to walk in hope. Turning inward is natural when one suffers a great loss. I felt angry, bitter, and constantly asked, “Why?” I discovered there are now answers to why. Life’s sense of fair play is to be unfair to all. It happens.
I also learned that living in darkness offers no hope, no way out, and becomes a self-imposed prison. The warden of the prison is me, and I hold the key to open the door and walk into freedom.
It takes courage to take the key, insert it into the door, and walk out of the darkness. Once out of the darkness, the light warms, It heals. It renews. It restores.
Let the light drive away your shadows. Be the light for others.
“Only in the darkness can you see the stars.” ― Martin Luther King Jr.
The death of someone you love with every fiber of your being blocks out the sun and brings the darkness. It’s how I describe it. A loving family, kind neighbors, and faith-filled words of believers didn’t bring any light to my darkness. I don’t know where the strength to plod ahead came from, but I plodded ahead. I stumbled and fell. I refused to give up. I felt as if I were walking in quick mud, sunk down to my knees. I could almost hear the sucking sound of the mud as I pulled my leg out of the mud and took my next step. Then it happened.
A glimpse of light. I smiled at something, a bird or butterfly. I smiled and I knew I smiled. I look up to the Texas sky and said, “Thank you.”
The mud was still there, only I was a bit stronger. I didn’t struggle quite as much pulling my leg up. And, then it happened.
Another glimpse of light. Someone listened to me tell my story again. They didn’t preach to me, they listened. And, I grew stronger. The light grew brighter. I plodded along; the quick mud only up to my ankles.
And, one day I decided to sit down write about all the things I was grateful for that my Babe gave to me. Oh, I cried and cried as I wrote. I wrote through my tears. When I finished writing, I smiled, turned toward a photo of my Babe and said thank you. And, the light shone around me and has not gone out.
We all know about Mondays – the start of a work week. Getting our heads out the weekend and into the world of work. It’s different for a guy dancing alone (I imagine it’s the same for a gal dancing alone). I want Monday night’s dinner for one to be healthy, fun to make, and leave me feeling satisfied when I finish.
It’s a warm south Texas spring day, so no slow cooker operation – I have the windows open to catch the nice breeze and I’m holding off on the air conditioner – the slow cooker during warm weather doesn’t need air conditioning, but I do. So I opted for Monday Madness. I decided to make a super healthy salad, big enough to quench my appetite.
I begin with the base: HEB’s (HEB is the go to market in south Texas) organic baby kale and baby spinach. It’s triple washed, ready to go. I like that part, a lot. I fill a large dinner bowl with the kale and spinach.
I like cranberries. They’re super healthy for you and add a nice taste to the salad. Here’s a trick I learned to soften them up and bring out their great taste. This time of year the only cranberries I can get are frozen. I take a handful, put them in a small bowl, put a paper towel over them and in the microwave they go for 45 seconds. When I hear the finishing ding, I carefully grab hold of the bowl (watch it, it’s hot) and scoop the cranberries out with a spoon and place them on the salad.
I need a shot of protein in my salad, so I turn to my heart healthy friend, Almonds. I place a dozen of almonds around the bowl. It’s looking pretty good. The next easy step, I place organic cherry tomatoes around the bowl like I’m making a presentation for the Food Channel.
I live in south Texas. What’s a meal without an avocado, right? I love guacamole, but not tonight. I’m happy, my avocado turns out perfect, no bad spots. You never know with the avocado until you cut it open. I sound like a surgeon, make it an avocado surgeon, por favor. I make slices in the avocado and place it on the salad. Phew, almost done.
I drizzle Modena balsamic vinegarette over the salad and follow that with the vinegarette’s cousin, extra virgin olive oil (first cold pressed). I add a sprinkle of Feta cheese to enhance the taste and give me a bit more protein. Here’s the finished product.