When it's personal... when I compete with myself, I am a better person.  Globally, cooperation would be ideal, but there are times when competition is necessary in order to control greed. 

There was a time, when my school did not allow competition.  Everything that the children played in P.E. class and on the playground, had to have non-competitive roots - all activities had to be cooperative.  The results were less than stellar.  The children became dull... they lacked luster.  There were no incentives to bring the whole into the winner's circle because, as usual, the administration had bought into something that they, themselves didn't really buy.  The administration usually adopts a program and then puts the cart before the horse.  We all stand there and become frustrated when we can't move forward.  Administration is not vested or committed to making sure that everyone - from the top down to the bottom up - understands and believes in what we are doing and WHY we are doing it.  It's not that they don't care, they usually have WAY too much on their plates.

There is a fine line between healthy competition and competition that is destructive.  It would be a much nicer world if we worked together for the good of all. 

 

Art… it allows the soul to resonate. It allows us to feel at a different level – it touches the deepest parts of us. Art allows everyone to feel. Art doesn’t discriminate. It doesn’t know color, creed or social standing. Art reaches out and communicates with multiple parts of the human being at once. It is multi-dimensional. It forms new connections… talking with the subconscious. I love the high I get when I experience art that speaks to me… the way that my heart leaps when I see it – the smile that creeps up onto my face, the feeling that washes over me and the music that is in my soul.

I didn’t grow up in a home where the arts were a big part of everyday life… unless, that is, you consider the largest art canvas… that of Mother Nature! It wasn’t until I was older that I realized life had this additional dimension. I have exposed myself to different kinds of art and I always feel rejuvenated after hearing a song or seeing a piece of art that has touched me. Art is all around. My favorite being the intricate art found in nature… somehow, all of the details were remembered there, on the stage of life.

My overactive imagination has been working overtime lately, but it hasn't been working alone.  During the last couple of weeks, the topic of Superhero power has come up in several different circles.  I was amazed at how many times the subject actually came up, and it wasn't only in my circles... the topic had come up in other circles as well.

I pose this question to you.  What Superhero power would you choose, and why?  You can click on this link to see a HUGE list of different Superhero powers... http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_comic_book_superpowers. 

Personally, I would choose the ability to fly... however, there is a twist.  My abilty to fly would be as follows... I would be able to fly myself and any vehicle that I was in (ie - my car) and that would include any passengers in my car.  HEY!  The ability to fly would be more fun if I could do it with good friends!  Oh, the places I'd go!

What would you choose?  I can't wait to hear from you!

My youngest daughter came running into the house the other night... she was all out of breath.  "Ma!  You should have seen them all... hundreds of tiny little lights flashing in the woods!  There were so many of them that I couldn't even count them all.  Fireflies!  They're here!"  Summertime magic and mystery.  How can such a small creature create such a bright flash of light?!?  They look so magical when they are all twinkling from a distance in the darkness. 

I took a small walk down my street tonight.  I noticed all of the fireflies lighting up the darkness... dancing and flashing... dots of light, patterns... a language that is foreign to me.  I smiled to myself as I remembered my daughter's excitement a few days before.  As I watched the secret language that was spoken between the fireflies, I remembered the magic that fireflies had brought me when I was a child.  Summertime, still magical to me... still mysterious (although a little less mysterious than when I was a child) and as beautiful as ever!

*Google Image* 

     We live in a fairly large condominium complex.  Many of the residents are older people, but younger families are moving into the area.  My daughters have become great friends with two children who also live on our street.  The four of them are basically inseperable.  Three girls and one boy.  Robert is the youngest and the only boy, but when he grows up, look out.  He's gonna be a real heartbreaker.  Robert has beautiful brown eyes, tons of chocolate brown curls, a great personality and a smile that's gonna have the girls breaking his front door down.  My daughters and the girl up the street have been plotting and scheming during the last week or so.  I only caught snippets of the plan over time, and it was only revealed to me THIS morning.  Robert's birthday is going to occur while the girls and I are in Germany.  They feel that they are going to miss out on something, and decided that they would celebrate Robert's Unbirthday... TODAY!  Nice of them to tell me that they were expecting cake and balloons!  LOL!  I made Beth's FAMOUS mud pie, topped with colorful M&M's... oreo cookie base, chocolate chip ice cream, fudge topping...  a dentist's cavity dream, but tasty nonetheless! 

     The stage was set.  Robert and his mom came over.  SURPRISE!!!  Happy Unbirthday, Robert!  The girls danced and sang a birthday song for him... he looked at them like they had lost their minds.  I wished that I could hear what he was thinking!!!  LOL!  We sang Happy Unbirthday and ate unbirthday cake.  Life is good.  We have a lot to be thankful for.  Good friends, happy times and unbirthday cake.  As I sit here and type this, I am smiling.  My children are thoughtful.  They wanted their friend to know that he is appreciated.  As he left, he turned and smiled at us... "Thank you for the Unbirthday party!" he said.  The twinkle in his eye and the smile on his face said it all.  He got it.  Good friends and good times yield great memories, and that's what we did tonight...

     Celebrate life.  Celebrate an Unbirthday!
Hugs!
-Susan

     Happiness is what you allow it to be.  It is accentuating the positive, working with the negative.  It is going through life with an open heart and an open mind... the ability to realize that life isn't always going to give you what YOU want or what YOU think you deserve.  Everything in interconnected, but we are usually too zoomed in or focused in order to see the bigger picture.  Happiness is being compassionate, forgiving, open, letting go of the past and embracing the present.  Take a breath, take a step back, realize what you have and embrace that.  The things that make others happy will not necessarily make you happy.  Remember that the grass is always greener on the other side.  Happiness already lies within you.  You have to choose to embrace it. 

"What we call the secret of happiness is no more a secret than our willingness to choose life." ~ Leo Buscaglia

I wish that everyone would have "enough".
I recently got this email from a friend of mine.  I have seen it before, however, I never get tired of reading it.  When I first read this question, this story that I had gotten in an email popped into my head.

I never really thought that I'd spend as much time in airports as I do. I don't know why. I always wanted to be famous and that would mean lots of travel. But I'm not famous, yet I do see more than my share of airports.
 

I love them and I hate them. I love them because of the people I get to watch. But they are also the same reason why I hate airports. It all comes down to "hello" and "goodbye."I must have mentioned this a few times while writing my stories for you.

I have great difficulties with saying goodbye. Even as I write this I am experiencing that pounding sensation in my heart. If I am watching such a scene in a movie I am affected so much that I need to sit up and take a few deep breaths. So when faced with a challenge in my life I have been known to go to our local airport and watch people say goodbye. I figure nothing that is happening to me at the time could be as bad as having to say goodbye.

Watching people cling to each other, crying, and holding each other in that last embrace makes me appreciate what I have even more. Seeing them finally pull apart, extending their arms until the tips of their fingers are the last to let go, is an image that stays forefront in my mind throughout the day.
 

On one of my recent business trips, when I arrived at the counter to check in, the woman said, "How are you today?" I replied, "I am missing my wife already and I haven't even said goodbye."

She then looked at my ticket and began to ask, "How long will you...Oh, my God. You will only be gone three days!" We all laughed. My problem was I still had to say goodbye.

But I learn from goodbye moments, too.

Recently I overheard a father and daughter in their last moments together. They had announced her departure and standing near the security gate, they hugged and he said, "I love you. I wish you enough." She in turn said, "Daddy, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Daddy."

They kissed and she left. He walked over toward the window where I was seated. Standing there I could see he wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on his privacy, but he welcomed me in by asking, "Did you ever say goodbye to someone knowing it would be forever?"

"Yes, I have," I replied. Saying that brought back memories I had of expressing my love and appreciation for all my Dad had done for me. Recognizing that his days were limited, I took the time to tell him face to face how much he meant to me.

So I knew what this man experiencing.

"Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever goodbye?" I asked.

"I am old and she lives much too far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is, the next trip back would be for my funeral," he said.

"When you were saying goodbye I heard you say, "I wish you enough." May I ask what that means?"

He began to smile. "That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone." He paused for a moment and looking up as if trying to remember it in detail, he smiled even more."When we said 'I wish you enough,' we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them," he continued and then turning toward me he shared the following as if he
were reciting it from memory.

"I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish enough "Hello's" to get you through the final "Goodbye."

He then began to sob and walked away.

So there it is in a nutshell.  I wish the world had "enough" of the things needed in order to see things from a different perspective.  I wish that everyone had enough of the things needed to be happy.

Me, Myself and I!

When someone or something is suffering, I feel this incredible internal anguish.  I actually feel sick, but at the same time, a huge wave of compassion washes over me.  I want to help ease the suffering.

As a child, I was always coming home with a stray animal or an injured creature of some sort or another.  I tried to ease the pain of suffering animals.  I had even considered being a veterinarian, but I knew I could never make it through putting animals down.  Easing their pain, yes.  Ending their lives with broken-hearted owners looking on... never.

One time, my neighbors had found a pigeon that was all tangled up in fishing line.  The bird was so thin that you coud grab its breast bone.  They showed me the bird, left it on their back porch and went inside.  Just then, I could hear my mom calling us for dinner... back in those days, she would just throw open the front door and yell our names... "S  U  S  A  N!   A  N  D  Y! DINNER!"

We ran home and washed up.  I couldn't stop thinking about that poor pigeon.  The fear in its eyes was tremendous.  I pushed the food around my plate as I told my parents about the bird.  "Dad!  We've just GOT to do something!"  My appetite was gone.  I couldn't eat knowing that the bird was defenseless against all of the cats that lived in our neighborhood.  For all I knew, that bird was dinner already.  "Let me just run over there and grab the bird."  I said.  My parents agreed. 

I spoke gently to the pigeon as I was running across the street with it, securely in my hands.  I assured it that we were there to help.  As my dad and I cut away all of the fishing line, we noticed that the pigeon had a band on its leg.  This wasn't a run-of-the-mill pigeon!!  It was a carrier pigeon.  We made a few phone calls (it was pre-internet) and before long, we were talking to the local "Pigeon Man".  He made a few phone calls and then called us back. 

The bird belonged to a man several hours away.  She had been missing for several weeks, and had been feared dead.  Actually, with her breast bone protruding like that, she was in immediate danger of dying.  The owner was on his way!  The reunion was beautiful.  The bird's unimaginable suffering both from hunger and being immobilized, was over.  She was back in the hands of her loving owner.

I take suffering very personally - whether it is my own, personal suffering or that of someone else.  I try to ease the suffering of others and when I experience pain and suffering of my own, my friends and family are there to help me through those times.