Tag Archives: happiness

How to take your heart with you wherever you go

It occurs to me after nearly a week visiting Las Cruces, NM, that I left a piece of my heart when I moved back to Indiana in 2011. I wonder as I ponder “being in the world but not of it” if it is possible to leave some heart everywhere we go.

Aw'gy guards our moving truck, August 2011, bound for Indiana.

Aw’gy guards our moving truck, August 2011.

I mean, I left! Moved. Packed up a 72-pound dog and 7,720 pounds of worldly possessions. Yet, as I’ve visited with friends who are as close as family, and in some cases even more open and loving, it has felt as though I never left.

Moved here on a whim back in oh four. “Bought an acre of land off the back of a matchbook,” I joked about the acre of land I bought from a realtor. “Either gonna move there or make money on the land,” I said.

Did both.

Come to think of it, I’ve left some heart in France; Sarasota, Florida; and all across the midwest. I don’t think it’s about me. I think it’s about the open, loving people I meet along the way. It’s also about being real, in a “wherever you go there you are” way.

You see, the thing is – this is so cool! – we are all connected.

In this vast, beneficent universe, we are connected, we are the same. You may be having a bad day and someone else has had those feelings. You’re celebrating and others know your joy.

You are just as connected as I am. If you don’t feel connected, I’m sorry about that. Here’s all you need to do: open your heart – actually picture your Valentine Day’s heart in your chest opening to the nature of people around you. Smile, thank them, wish them a good day and the heart you give them will come back to you in, well, hearts.

And corny as it sounds, but I’m here to tell ya, your heart will grow so large you’ll be able to leave pieces of it everywhere you go. And more will grow. So there you go. Happy Valentine’s Day from sunny SoNewMex.



How thoughts become things

WordScarab journals dating from 2003. Before that, I kept notes on scraps.

Rarely do I go back and read my morning journals – there’s a good 10 years of  wanderings – but while writing this morning and watching the sunlight grow over my front door something occurred to me.

When did I find this house?

This current journal launched 13.2.11 – I was still in New Mexico.

The Calais house was on the market but I had no clue about when I would move, where in Indiana I’d go, how my new home would look. I picked up the journal and flipped through until I found this list. It described this house to a T.

“Must have been after I saw it – I was listing its’ features,” that’s what I thought until I checked the page heading.

Th 9-15-11/2

It was a month before I set foot in the house. At least 10 days prior to my realtor sending the listing. I envisioned this house before I saw it. In short, I got what I wanted – and so much more.


We are capable of manifesting our desires, our thoughts. Whatever they may be.

Once while riding my bike in a Norman, OK neighborhood, I found myself having to ride on a new curb because the streets weren’t yet poured. And rode right into a hole in the cement – about the size of a dollar bill.

I knew I would. I saw it coming and I predicted it.

“I’m going to ride into that hole. I’m going to ride into that hole!”

Blam! Splat! Over the handle bars and into the rocks – I still have the scar on my knee. Wow. I’m good.

Now, if I spotted the hole and noted plenty of room to ride around it, I would have. I’m sure.

Who was it who said, “Whether you think you can or you can’t, you’re right?”

I think it was Lincoln. Please check me on this.

You know, you are what you eat. Well, you’re also what you think.

Are you negative? Oh, it’s not you! Maybe other people are negative and you are able to see that all the time. Continue reading

‘This is too exciting, I must say …’

Watching old SNL skits featuring Martin Short as Ed Grimley is way more fun that writing about aging, no doubt.

On my way to writing a terribly poignant yet boringly philosophical treatise on “H-ing,” I found myself on YouTube. Where else? Conducting, ah-hum, important, journalistic research on a quote from a man to be admired, Ed Grimley.

After a good hour watching the few circa 1980s “Saturday Night Live” sketches with Martin Short’s Grimley I wanted more.

Here’s a homely looking guy in a super-modest (only slightly oxymoronic, I must say) apartment. Short’s Grimley is a pixie with shark-toothed hair, bared teeth, pants pulled up to his midriff. Michael Jackson stole his hand-on-the crotch gestures from Ed, no doubt. He prances about his flat, plays the triangle and dances with abandon. Would that we could all be so carefree. But wait, there’s more.

Pat Sajak is his hero, “You can’t find a more decent guy than Pat, you know.” When the devil, played by Jon Lovitz, offers Ed $50 in Christmas cash, Grimley painfully ponders his options before replying, “I’m afraid to say that I have to say no because I’m not completely convinced that your intentions are honorable and I don’t think I’d fair very well in hell, what with the heat and everything.” I can’t do him justice. Give yourself a break and watch this clip.

“Oh and I supposed that’s not fun.” I mean it! Now go. Shoo!


Friends should make you laugh, SUH

Stay close to your BFFs, SUH.

We’ve been called “the three musketeers.” I like, “See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil.” Or to use the vernacular, BFFs. We met in 1975 and, to use that classic fiction writer’s phrase, “little did we know” we would forge a lifelong friendship bound by love, truth and lots of fun.

Garnet, Robin and I – recent graduates of Butler, Purdue and Ball State – were the creative marketing department drones – sharing a corner workroom on the second floor of the 1800 North Meridian building – mall management HQ for Melvin Simon & Assoc, Indianapolis. We worked hard and played hard too – sort of like Rob, Buddy and Sally crafting Alan Brady show scripts week after week. Except our Mel Cooley was a blond.

The triad was split up by our various moves to different regional malls so we started sharing hotel rooms at shopping center conventions. Three working girls having a pajama party every night with serious debriefings: “Guess who I saw?” or “What a jerk that guy is.” or “I got a new client.” or “I will never wear these shoes again.” “Robin – I killed it – come down from that radiator.” “Ok, you want your bagel burnt, I want mine toasted and your’s is warm – right?”

We continued to room together while life gave us divorces, children, PMS and menopause. We won awards and lost parents. But honestly some of the best laughs came while we were getting ready for the convention day or group dinners at night. I still laugh thinking about three of us were sharing two sinks in our condo bathroom at Polo Towers in Vegas. Garnet and Robin were using the sink across from mine – I have no idea what dinner was on the docket that night. They were talking and saying, “SUH.”  “(something, something, something) SUH.” What the heck is SUH?” I finally asked. “What?” Garnet said. “What do you mean SUH?” “You guys keep saying SUH – what is it? “AS YOU AGE. As you age.” You shoulda been there.

Now I hear it on TV all the time. You need to use Restasis, SUH. Eventually, SUH, you may need Depends. I guess it depends. Oh, and SUH, you’ll want to stay close to your friends so you can laugh your way into old age. Laugh or cry. I prefer the former, as I age. Guess that would be SIH.

Gifts from ‘Patto’

I’m sitting in my new bungalow in Valparaiso, IN – just 27 miles down the road from my sister, Pat, and brother-in-law, Otto. It’s been a year since I put the Las Cruces house on the market and set my sights for home. And now, I am home, largely due to gifts from Pat, Otto and their family – married 51 years ago today.

They met at George Rogers Clark High School in the late 50s. When Pat brought Otto home to meet the parents he was fun, handsome and sweet. He went into the Navy and was stationed in Okinawa. She put herself through St. Agnes School of Nursing, Fond du Lac, Wisconsin. Continue reading