Today is the last day most anyone of us will see a sequential date in our lifetimes; December 12, 2012: 12.12.12
Some people believe the date brings luck or romance. Chapels in Las Vegas are sold out today (luck and romance!) Many parents scheduled Cesarian for today. There is a benefit concert for Hurricane Sandy victims. I’m going to try a new soup recipe for dinner.
But even if you aren’t starting a new marriage or a new venture, today carries special energy and many believe, it is the beginning of a new chapter of healing and transformation, on both a personal and global level.
Set your intentions today for the good things you want in your future. Start the thing you’ve always wanted to do. Send out your prayers to the world. Give gratitude for the gifts you have already been given. Leverage all this positivity for change and growth in your own life, and ask for joy and love for the planet.
Think of it as a big ol’ megaphone multiplying your thoughts and dreams. What message do you want out there? Is it one of love? Of health? Of financial success or personal freedom? A new motorcycle or strong calve muscles? Today is the day to ask for it, and start taking action towards it.
Some things to think about:
The established order of things is rarely the source of new beginnings. -Marianne Williamson
A year from now, you’ll wish you had started today. -Karen Lamb
Happy 12.12.12. to you.
PS: if you feel so inclined, I would love to hear what goal or dream or intention you are asking for today. Leave a note in the comments section and I will be sure to think good thoughts for you.
I am traveling to visit my Sister tomorrow. I can’t wait for the bringing together, and the end of missing her.
I also loved the book Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Froer.
And if you’re short on time, the opening scene from Love Actually.
There’s nothing like being reunited with someone you’ve missed in your bones.
I go on walks and I think of you, Joy Project.
Warmer weather has a direct correlation with the amount of sidewalk chalking I see.
I never see the children themselves. Just the sentiments they leave behind.
Swirls and polka dot lines. Notes written to family members and passersby. Names outlined in CAPITAL LETTERS.
Charlie Was Here!
Sidewalk chalk is the best example of Zen I know. The children do it purely for the joy of making art. They don’t care that it won’t be there tomorrow.
In fact, the lack of permanence is probably half the fun. You can make mistakes, when it’s not for keeps.
But I guess nothing is really for keeps. So why not do it, just for the joy?
Also, it’s National Poetry Month. So I give you Shell Silverstein, my favorite poet.
Where the Sidewalk Ends
by Shel Silverstein
There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.
Image via Flickr
We didn’t give gifts this year. Trying instead to be frugal, and creative, and sustainable.
But we still received gifts, you know?
Because we spent time together after time spent apart. And cooked food with love. And listened to music and played games and laughed.
I spent Christmas Eve night on a sofa sleeper in my mom’s living room. Like a child. Only also with my boyfriend. So more like a poor, slutty, college student (is that statement redundant?).
And I might have accidentally gotten my family drunk at brunch. Because this Christmas besides the gift of my love, I also gave a signature drink.
It was probably my favorite Christmas ever.
Why do cocktails taste better when shared with a good girlfriend? And why does everything seem magical when there’s white christmas lights? And why does it feel so comforting to look out over the city where you were born and feel both like a proud mother and a well-loved child all at the same time?
I made this mix for the family holiday celebrations. It made me dance, or maybe that was the champagne…either way, enjoy!
Dog Days Are Over: Florence + The Machine
He Can Only Hold Her: Amy Winehouse
Having A Party: Sam Cooke
I’d Rather Go Blind (Single): Etta James
You Send Me: Aretha Franklin
Respect: Otis Redding
This Will Be (An Everlasting Love): Natalie Cole
My Babe: Little Walter
Love and Happiness: Al Green
It’s a Man’s, Man’s, Man’s World: James Brown
Use Me: Bill Withers
One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer: John Lee Hooker
Green Onions: Booker T. & The Mg’s
You Don’t Know Me: Ray Charles
Love Me Like A River Does: Melody Gardot
Mushaboom (Mocky Remix): Feist
In the past six months we’ve had lots of people leave work for other jobs and opportunities. And each time someone leaves we host a happy hour or a going-away lunch in honor of that person. Everyone comes out and says nice things to each other and about the person leaving.
Usually at these events you end up getting closer to that person than you ever were before; you take the time to ask more questions about their lives outside of work, you buy them a beer, you relate to them as a person and not just a co-worker.
And then you think, “Wow, Billy is such a cool person. It’s really a shame he’s leaving.”
It’s such a strange and bittersweet phenomena that we wait to say nice things to each other until it doesn’t really matter anymore.
Like eulogies at funerals and speeches at retirement parties, going away happy hours are full of toasts and accolades and bonding that should have been done years prior while we still worked together or lived together or had a chance to deepen a relationship together.
The joke around work lately is that we want to hold a fake going-away lunch for ourselves to finally get the acknowledgement that we’ve all been craving. Almost like holding a fake funeral for yourself, Waking Ned Devine style.
So before you quit or kick the bucket I wanted to tell you that I love you, that you mean the world to me, that I enjoy your company, I think you’re funny and I like your jokes even when I pretend I don’t. You are special to me and thanks for lending me your stapler. Cheers to you.
We had our regular Ladies Wine Night this Saturday and the theme was pink wines.
We’re talking, rose’s, Zins, Franzia…FYI; just like jean jackets, pink wine is in this season, so mock me a little for being a borderline red neck but I am considered “fashion friendly” this summer by all the cool people.
Anyhoo, the wine was delicious, and we wore pink and made pink food and swore up a pink storm and it was wonderful.
I made this watermelon-feta-red onion salad recipe. It smelled weird and sounded freaky, but darn was it good. And quick.
We talked about adding some salt, white pepper, and lime to the recipe. Another gal once put it on arugula. Play with the recipe and let me know how it turns out.