Sunday, July 9th, 2017
CHOOSING MY SUMMER MEMORIES FILLS ME WITH GOOD STUFF
OK, this is a very metaphysical thought coming out of ten days of vacation and family.
Then again, it may be very apropos.
When kids from far away come for a long visit there are lovely memorable moments–and usually a few bumps when feelings run high. Too many feelings into compressed a time heat up all the experience. Sparklers are “phenomenal”! Sitting in candle light and talking is “magical”! A cross word is “devastating”. You get the idea. I lived far from my parents as an adult and my dad and I always had our moment that ended with me in tears and my dad hugging me. Spill over emotion, I call it.
Mmmm. How does this fit with my truth burp title? Maybe this way. I read quotes from Abraham every day —firstname.lastname@example.org> It is based on the law of attraction with the basic premise being that you create what you think and feel. And choosing the thought that feels the best to you will support it coming into being. What it does is help me choose the positive. Period.
I think Pollyanna got this right without much falderal. (There’s a fun word)
And so I sit here ready for family to leave tomorrow. What thoughts do I want to put into my basket–the night everything went wrong, the irritations of too many, too much cooking, not enough slow easy connection? No.
I choose cousins playing together easily who don’t see one another often but feel the family connection.
I choose sitting on Adirondack chairs at the Nonantum Inn in Kennebunkport with my Oregon daughter. Just us. Treated like royalty by Jean Ginn Marvin the Innkeeper and friend. We stepped away and did luxury and waved to the Bush family compound.
I choose the delight of my 4 year old wanting sparklers at home over fireworks and her delight in writing her letters with the sparks.
I choose the mandatory lobster dinner and the same 4 year old being adept with lobster crackers.
I choose my 9 year old (only boy) grandson still wanting the ritual of going to the Cookie Jar bakery with me and treating me to a cookie. (He came back from ten days at Camp Chewonki grown up!)
I choose to remember the Summer front porch with people sprawled and chatting and getting up for Ladder Golf. I
I choose to see two sisters (my daughters) having a connection that will sustain them for life.
But to avoid being totally la-la, I will say my Oregon daughter heads back with a probable broken rib, not all relatives got visited, and each kid can count and name various
“owies” that deserve the count, and I will wish to change things I said–and didn’t say.
You know, actually it is esoteric. We do choose who and how we want to be—and what we want to remember.