Music Magic

In my opinion, one of the greatest gifts we have received from the Lord is the gift of music.  Whether it is to make music, appreciate it or listen to it makes no difference.  Music touches something deep and mysterious inside of my soul.  Music is the one universal language of all mankind.  It has the ability to unite people across the colour spectrum, across wars, across ethnic boundaries.  Where there are no words, there is music.  Music can inspire, it can soothe and excite.  Music is healing, and it can evoke long forgotten memories.  It can transport us to special times in the past and it can lift our spirits to soar with angels.

The medical profession is starting to use music as therapy for a variety of illnesses, as music can help to reduce stress and anxiety, helping to slow heart rates and even lower blood pressure.  Music has been found to be effective in helping people suffering from depression and even alleviating pain.

All through time, music has been the unbroken thread running through all of mankind, invisibly linking us all together.

I love this quote by Khalil Gibran: “Music is the language of the spirit. It opens the secret of life bringing peace, abolishing strife.” 

I would like to share some of the music that I grew up with.  Still today, hearing this, it transports me back to starlight summer evenings, the sound of my parents talking on the veranda while this played softly in the background.  Pur musical magic!  Click on the link and enjoy it with me.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QiHRVgBMHoA

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R43gP_ycxD8

If you flutter by here, please tell me what music is your favourite memory.  I would love to hear from you.

A Flutter of Leaves

Here in the Southern Hemisphere it is winter, and what a cold winter it has been!  Outside my window I watch the wind pick up a handful of winter-white leaves and toss them against the fence.  They say that butterflies don't fly if their body temperature is less than 30 degrees C.  I feel like a butterfly, no flying for me.  I just flutter my wings ever so slightly.  I am the most unproductive human being during the winter months, my body crying out in protest!  I love summer, the warmth of the sun energizes me and lifts my spirit to unknown heights.
However, I have to admit that the winter has a magical beauty to it.  When the sun just pushes its face from under the nighttime blanket, its first fragile rays catch on the frosty icicles covering the grass and it glistens like diamonds.  Foggy tendrils float above the water pond, and one can almost imagine fairies scurrying away before human eyes can see them.  Although Winter is my least favourite season, I love the winter and I cannot imagine living in a place where there is little or no winter, it is as if my very essence needs this time of hibernation , of quiet reflection.  It gives us a moment to take stock, and to remind us of all the blessings we have, all the reasons we have to be thankful.
Without Winter Spring would be less miraculous, Summer less abundant.  In Life, too, we learn to truly appreciate the beauty of Summer, because of the winter. It is  this contrast that reveals the beauty, the wonder and the joy of the good times.  Winter to me is like the wrapping around a present.  It excites me, because I know that underneath its cold layer, tender green leaves are waiting to burst forth and rejoice!!  If you flutter by here, please share your thoughts on the Seasons with me, I would love to hear from you.

Butterfly in the Shadow

Those of my friends who know me well, call me a story maker. Ever since I can remember I have woven stories around everything, whether it be animate or inanimate objects.  Yesterday, as I went jogging,  I noticed how the late afternoon sun was pulling long fingers of shadow across the tar.  This image took me back to my childhood.  I remember how I, as a little girl, would wait for that moment when the trees' long shadows would fall across our driveway as that was the sign that my dad would soon be coming home.  I would then go outside to wait for him.  While I waited for the blue Valiant to come around the corner, I would keep myself busy with the ants swarming all over the driveway.  I was fascinated by how they would communicate, and how they would rally around a fellow ant when it suffered an injury.  I would spin a whole series of stories around these tiny creatures on a daily basis.  Each one had his own specific role to fulfill.  Today I draw this observation into my own life.  Since my younger daughter has left for university I have been questioning my purpose in life.  I feel at odds with myself as I have built my life upon being an at home mommy, being there for my children at all times.  Suddenly the nest is empty, and I ask myself what could my life possibly be worth now?  Even more so after somebody asked me recently what on earth I keep myself busy with since I do not work and my reason for being at home has left the house. It is thus time to take stock.  What is it that determines our worth as people?  Is it how much money we make?  Is it the powerful job we have, or the important position we have in the community?  Are we worth more if we are famous or well-known?  Is our worth judged by how many people we employ, or how many committees we serve upon?  Sadly, these are the standards by which the world tends to judge our worth, and we fall into this same trap to judge our own worth which in turn leads to depression as most of us are just ordinary people living ordinary lives.  Yet, it is in our ordinary-ness that we are actually spectacular and so terribly unique.  Each one of us has been created by God in such a unique way that there will never again be somebody with my or your own unique DNA blueprint. We are not mere accidents or co-incidences. We are part of God's perfect plan. In this very fact lies our worth.  Each one of us has our own special place in life which cannot be replaced by another.  Only I can love my children the way I do, only I know their needs, their likes and their dreams like I do.  Long after they are mothers themselves I will still be their mother.  The same is true for the niche I move in.  Quite often we are not even aware of the impact we have on the people around us.  Sometimes we touch them with a mere smile or a simple kindness.  Maybe a word of advice or encouragement changes the course of their lives.  Many people wait their whole life for a chance to do something great or noteworthy, something spectacular that books could be written about, but the reality is that most of us will never experience that moment.  However, every day we are surrounded by small opportunities to make a difference, yet often we are so busy waiting for something big to happen that we miss these insignificant, but such important, opportunities. God calls us for a specific purpose.  Some people are called to go great places, while most of us are called to be great where we are, to bloom in our own garden.  My responsibility is to be totally present in my own life, and to live this life entrusted to me to my fullest potential, to do wholeheartedly just what I am able to do, to be true to the gifts and talents God has endowed upon me.  Just as a child is an ambassador of his family, so I am an ambassador of the One who created me.  My worth has much less to do with how great I am, but has to do with how great God is in my life.
A last thought: is a beautiful butterfly less beautiful in the shadow than in the sunlight?  No, his beauty remains the same, he is just less visible, we just have to look harder to see him, but when we do see him his beauty takes our breath away.  Maybe you are that butterfly, or maybe little miss Plain down the street is that shadowy flyer, but when you start looking you'll see just how beautiful her wings are even in the shadows.  Maybe it's time to develop the eyes to see our own worth, but also the worth of the other ordinary people around us instead of being blinded by those in the limelight.  Then we will notice the colours of the butterfly in the shadows.

If you flutter by here please leave a comment or a snippet of encouragement.  I would love to hear from you.

Room with a View

Today is a cold and very windy winter's day.  The cold has crept into every part of my body and almost into my heart.  The day outside my window looks dismal, the leaves, a dull brown and dry, are being blown every which way until finally pilling up against the fence.  The bare trees seem to cry out in protest and spread out long, dry branches as if to ward off the windy onslaught.  All I see is one long, bleak and cold day stretching out ahead of me and I want to curl up and hide away until somebody wakes me to tell me that spring is putting out its first tender shoots of green.  

It is in this moment of morbid contemplation that I suddenly notice the little bird on the windowsill.  Despite the wind plucking at its feathers, he looks about him with his shiny black eyes, and lets out a joyful song.  A happy little fellow.  Watching him, I feel my own spirits lift despite the drab day outside, and I once again realize how much we have, i have, to be thankful for.  Oh, the things we take for granted!  I have the blessing of sight, to see this tiny little feathered creature, and the ability to hear his happy little voice!  Being able to be snug and warm under a blanket, a cup of steaming coffee, my children nearby.  Suddenly my house is a castle and my couch my throne and the leaves blowing in the wind are dancers doing pirouettes!

I smile at my children and hug them close!  The joy of thankfulness spreads through my limbs like a warm glow (nope, it is not a hot flush!) and I snuggle up to our Jack Russell lying next to me, not to hide from the cold, but to celebrate the closeness that icy cold winter days grant us.

With one last song the little bird spreads his wings and fly off over the hedge.  I wish it well.  It took a little bird to open my eyes, to give my room a new view on life.

If you flutter by, please leave a comment, I would love to hear from you.  Blessings to you all.

Keep On Flying !

A few weeks ago some of you might remember that I posted about starting a running program. Well, the most amazing thing is that I am now in the 7th week (8 if you count the week that I repeated week 3) of my program.  It is amazing because this is the longest I have ever stuck with any sort of running program and on top of that during the winter!  Winter to me signifies curling up, cuddling and hiding away from the cold and NOT doing unnecessary physical activity.  Yet, here I am, religiously venturing out on a daily basis to adhere to my program.  

I have to admit, it does not come easily.  I have a constant argument with that mighty inner voice insisting that I am totally insane and must definitely give up on this ridiculous notion of running.  After all, the engine is here to stay!  I have come to realize that my battle is not against the other runners that so effortlessly jog past me, nor is it against the little aches and pains or the painful winter onslaught, no, it is against that VOICE inside my head!  Nagging, nagging, nagging me to stop, to give up, trying to convince me that it is impossible, to face the fact that I am too old and simply not athletic at all.  It is so tempting to listen to that voice, and I can hear the couch calling me.  One would think that after & weeks that voice might have grown weaker, but it is as persistent as ever.  

Fortunately I have a pact with my running partner.  Yes, I have decided to employ the buddy system.  In fact I have two running partners.  One is my daughter, who is a 100 miles away, but everyday when I go out on the road I sms her and she encourages me.  Sometimes it even happens that we are out on the road together even if it is in different towns.  My second Buddy is a little fish, named Dory.  Yes, you are right, now that she is not helping to find Nemo, she is my running partner. (Of course you now understand why my inner voice has declared me utterly mad!)  Whenever I get tired and feel like giving up she is right there to remind me to "keep on swimming, keep on swimming, swimming, swimming".  This little chant does wonders to drown out that irritating inner voice.

This decision of mine to start running has made me think about why some people do things against all odds and why others never venture anything and I have come to the conclusion that indeed it is all in the mind.  It is in our thoughts where victory or failure starts.  It is our thoughts that can doom a project before it has even started, but it is also our thoughts that can make a venture into a success story.  It is in our minds where the greatest battles are lost and won.

Some years ago I read the story of a mountaineer who was paralyzed after a climbing accident.  The doctors told him that he would never be able to walk again.  A few years later however he was interviewed after climbing a major mountain range despite the doctors' prognosis.  The reporter asked him how he managed to overcome such odds?  His answer was simply this : "If you have a good enough excuse not to do something, then don't use that excuse."

How wise!  Excuses gives us an out.  It is like having a back door open all the time, ready to take flight, to leave and avoid the issue.  The minute, however, when you close and lock that back door, or even better, build a wall in the door's place, we have no choice but to go forward and to face the challenge.  Giving up is no longer a choice available to us and in that lies the secret.  Never give up.  

Giving up teaches us nothing.  We never learn the strength of our abilities.  We never reach our goals.  We become expert give-uppers.  We never get to stand on the summit and say "Wow, look at that view!  Look how far I have come."

If giving up was an option to Columbus, America might still have been unknown.  Africa and India might have been places just whispered about if it were not for Diaz and da Gama.  Noah's ark would not have been more that a little kayak!  If giving up was a choice we would never have heard of Nick Vujicic, who had every good excuse in the book to wallow in self-pity.  Instead he still amazes and inspires the world with his faith in the Lord, infallible spirit and dogged determination.  Watch this video to learn more about this incredible man .http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=USUvzKDroqM 

If you flutter by here, please leave a comment.  I would love to hear from you.

Daddy's Girl

Sunday was once again one of those days on the calender that many people have different opinions on - Father's Day.  I know many people who sneer at the day and call it just another day to lure a susceptible and gullible public into spending more money than they can afford and I have to admit that to a certain extend I tend to agree with them.  If all the day means to you is going out and buying a hasty, thoughtless gift and going out for an extravagant lunch, then indeed it is only a commercialized day on the calender.  However, to me Father's Day is a special day.  It is a day to celebrate the wonder of having had a wonderful man in my life that I could call "Pappa".  A man that embodied everything the word "Daddy" implies.  It is also a day to give thanks for the wonderful father my daughters have in their lives.  

There is such a special bond between a father and his children.  It is a totally unique relationship.  It is a very important relationship, and no other loving relation, be it mommy, granny, brother or uncle can ever be a substitute for that important figure.  

It is a father who shows his son the man he is to become.  To his son he is the strongest, bravest and fiercest man.  A father is Sir Galahad and the terminator rolled into one.  Silently he teaches us right from wrong and we know he is always there, looking out for us, keeping us safe, protected.  With her Daddy's arms folded tightly around her, a little girl feels like a princess, treasured and nurtured.  He makes the whole world seem magical.  A daddy is most often the biggest influence when his daughter one day chooses that special man in her life.

A father also teaches his children about the Lord, our heavenly Father.  Through his actions the nature of God is revealed.  A child who experiences his father's unconditional love, kindness, fair justice and guidance, and witnesses his father's strong morals, finds it easier to understand the essence of God, and is able to build a strong relationship with his Heavenly Father.

Mere words could never be enough to describe the special father my dad was to me.  He still is my hero.  He was a gentleman; my mom would say, with a twinkle in her eyes, a ladies-man.  I never heard him utter a foul word or tell dirty jokes. He taught me biblical principles, not just with words, but by example.  His family always came first.  He had an amazing sense of humour and we were constantly laughing, he was such a jovial fellow.  He loved playing pranks! These are but a few things which I will always treasure about my dad.  If there is one thing I regret it is not telling him more often how much I loved him.

Ever since my daughters have been born I have instilled in them a love and admiration for their father and I have watched how that relationship grew.  They are truly their Daddy's girls.  I love watching the interaction that they have with him, their special bond.  The way they so easily laugh together and tease each other.  The way they value his advice and relish his little eccentricities. 

How blessed we are to have fathers in our lives.  They enrich our lives, they protect and care for us.  They give their lives to us without hesitation.  Don't wait for Fathers day to pass this way again, take a moment right now to tell your dad, or your husband, how much you appreciate him.

If you flutter by here and would like to share something with us about your father, please feel free to comment.

Mr. Patch

This morning while I was still cuddling in my cocoon, hiding from the cold, I was pulled from my semi dream-state into the reality of a new day by the sound of our three spaniels charging past our window in pursuit of some or other perceived threat.  Their ferocious barking did not worry me as I suspected the danger to be nothing more than our neighbour's dare-devil cat taking its early morning walk along the top of the wall.  It made me smile.  The three of them are always ready for an adventure of some sort.

Listening to their excited barking, I realized once again how privileged we as humans are to have pets in our lives.  However, it is something we most often take for granted.  They fill our lives with their presence, and give us enjoyment with their antics. No two pets, whether they be dogs, cats, birds or hamsters are exactly the same.  Each one has its very own unique personality.  

Until recently we also had, apart from our three spaniels and our little Jack Russell, an adorable Dachshund, Mr Patch.  He was the old man of the family, a real gentleman in his built-in tuxedo.  He loved taking strolls through the neigbourhood, inspecting the delicious smells emanating from the hood's choicest rubbish bins.  Often, much to my dismay, he would drag one of the other puppies along on his strolls.  Much later they would return, Mr. Patch, still dapper and clean, followed by a very bedraggled, dirty and quilty-looking pup. He was constantly grooming Monty, our male spaniel, and it was his solemn vow to make sure he inspected all stationary objects in our yard (and if I was not diligent enough, in the house too) and give it his personal mark of approval!

We have so much to learn from our pets, especially dogs.  They are the most loyal friends we have.  No matter how we treat them, they forgive instantly and love us unconditionally.  They give us all their love, adoration and attention and are grateful for every morsel of attention they get from us.  They never turn from us in a huff, nor swear never to talk to us again because of some or other suffered insult.  They wait patiently for us to return, they wait patiently for us to feed them, play with them, go to bed and wake up.  They are always hopeful and despite many disappointments, they stay eternally optimistic. They guard us with their lives, they share their beds with us and even their fleas.  They are in touch with our moods, and don't mind staying right by our sides all day long while we are sick in bed, not even my husband can do that!!  They are great conversation starters, and after sharing doggy stories, complete strangers part from each other feeling as if they have found a long lost friend.

Pets come into our houses, sometimes after long and careful consideration, sometimes unexpected, with soft baby eyes, a little wobbly and full of bashful mischief.  Before long they run all over our hearts. Long after their departure from our lives you can still find the imprints of their paws on our hearts.  How mistaken we are when we think that our pets need us, it is we who need them, for a home,  however beautiful and immaculate, without a pet, is merely a house.

If you flutter by here and have a story of a special pet you want to share with us we would love to read it.  Please free feel to comment.

Butterfly Moments

Time.  It fills everyday.  Our lives revolve around it and through it.  We moan about it, we wish for it.  Yet, what is it?  To give it one simple definition is something that has made even intellectuals scratch their heads.  Some view time as part of the basic structure of life and the universe, that in time things happen in a sequence.  Others believe that time is not an entity or a happening, that it cannot be measured.
Most people, however, would agree that although we know that a minute holds sixty seconds and an hour has sixty minutes, time has a very subjective quality associated with it.  It is closely linked to our emotions. Waiting for the bus to arrive can make a few minutes feel like an hour especially if you are running late, while the opposite is true when one does not want a period of time to pass too quickly.  Then a week-end of forty-eight hours plus can seem as if it passed in the blink of an eye.
Whether you view time scientifically or philosophically, we all are subjected to its passing. Some of us view it as a gift, while others view it as a curse.  It cannot be bought, nor can it be given away or even captured.  It cannot be unspent or re-spent.
Sometimes we perceive time as a tormentor, when old age is prolonged beyond our understanding.  When time granted is short, we feel it is playing a cruel trick on us and it leaves us with unanswered questions, yet to the butterfly those few hours of life is enough for it to fulfill its life's purpose with such an abundance of joy that it leaves us enthralled.
To me, every moment of time is precious, but even so I find it impossible to engrave every moment in my memory.  What a blessing photographs are!  However, I wish that I could have captured not only the special moments, but also those ordinary mundane moments, those real life moments that link the special moments together. Little butterfly moments. I would keep them in a viewing jar.  How wonderful it would be to every now and again slip into my viewing jar and relive some of those snatches of time.  The first time my parents looked at me, the nights my dad tucked me in.  The coffee-fresh mornings in the game park when the day just awoke.  The day my mom sang at my wedding - what a surprise!  Those moments of silly laughter with my sister in the mall, the day she took me to the library. The first day I held my children in my arms, bundling them up against all the sharpness of the world, their first smiles.  Crossing the street, holding onto their tiny, trusting little hands.  My husband's first look of adoration, the early morning warmth of his embrace. All those days he would make the people around him laugh. The endless days of play with my brother.  The special times when I helped bath my little nephew, now a grown man.  The last day I saw my dad, just so I can have a chance to say all the things I never did.  The day my friend and I sat on a street corner, painting the sunrise.  Those cold winter days when my mom would fetch me from school and we would go get warm pies from the old bakery.  These are but a few.
How precious our memories are, and over time they become more so.  That is surely why the old folk speak about "The Good 'ole Days" even though they were often times of hardship.  Time has a way to glorify even the worst of times and the worst of sinners.  Time, elusive as it might appear at times, is a healing balm and a reflecting mirror.  What moments would you like to keep in a viewing jar?  How about sharing them with us here on my blog?
Thank you for stopping by and reading.  I would love to hear from you, so please feel free to leave a comment.  For reading more about time go to this link http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Time .

Butterfly Girl

Today is one of those days.  You know those days when for no clear reason it feels as if the entire weight of the world seems to rest on your shoulders.  It feels as if you can hardly put one foot in front of the other, as if they are tied down with a great big ball and chain.  That is when I have this secret wish that I could phone Superheroes Anonymous.  Superhero to the rescue!!!   Ta - da!!!
I imagine my superhero to be an adorable little girl butterfly with such a cheery disposition as to put the brightest shiny sun to shame, and with a little flick of her pollen dusted fingers all the wrongs in the world are put right again.  All my worry wrinkles would be smoothed away and the fragrance of joy will linger in every drab corner of my life.  My little superhero would clear up all misunderstandings, touch everyone's heart with happiness and sprinkle bags of glittering good intentions all over everything.  The world would simply be perfect!
Alas!  Superhero's are only alive and well in Hollywood.  No amount of wishing could conjure them up.  So back to reality and this day awaiting.  Of course I always have the choice to climb back into bed again and pull the duvet over my head.  I could hope to wake up tomorrow and maybe feel better.  Or... I could get up and bravely face this day.  The truth of the matter is that we do not really have a choice.  Getting back into bed mostly just postpones the inevitable and to top it all it is a total waste of time.  Time which none of us have to waste.  The only choice we really have is how we are going to spend the time and this takes me to my early morning aha moment!
As I was contemplating to stay in bed till a better feeling came around ( or Superheroes Anonymous gets a telephone) I realized one thing: I have to be my own superhero!  I have to be my own knight in shining amour.  Only I can get up and face this beautiful, perfect, unexplored and un-lived day.  It is my actions and words that will write the most important things on the new page awaiting in the early morning dawn.  I can fill the page with frowns and groans, with angry words and negativity, or I can fill it with words of beauty, smiles and love.  It is my choice that will release the magic dust.
Yes, I know.  I can already hear some of you say that I do not know what your life is like, that I do not understand what obstacles you are facing or what circumstances you are living in.  That is absolutely true, I have no idea.  However, what I do know is that no matter what you are facing or going through at this very moment, you do have a choice of how you wish to react to it. And it is in that choice where the magic lies. Every situation, every event comes with a choice of how we will react to it, and it is most often the choice which we end up making that truly determines the direction our lives will take and not really the event itself.
Of course, simply saying it does not make it as easy as it sounds.  It does not suddenly turn life into a magic carpet ride, but it does beat simply letting life run over you and giving up.
So, this all said, it is time to don my yellow, superhero boots and my butterfly wings.  Watch out world, here I come!

If you flutter by here, please share your thoughts on what super powers you would love to have!