This might be very shocking. BUT it is reality.
WATCH: movie called “War Photographer”.
The smell and sound of rain in the rainforest.
A happy toddler.
The movie Charlie and Boots.
Nothing is more beautiful than the mountains, when you can breathe in that mountain air and view and sigh peace.
Riding motorcycles can move me like no other, literally and figuratively. Truly Zen.
Some music stirs the soul. Finding that song that moves you doesn’t happen all the time but when it does, it’s magical.
My dogs are my children. They are the purest definition of unconditional love. They move me almost daily.
I was at an American Legion dinner (in West Virginia) on New Year’s Eve. There was a country band playing and my husband and I were just down the table from a very elderly couple. I don’t know what song started to play, but the gave each other a meaningful look, got up simultaneously, and he led her to the dance floor. They spent that entire song and several more lovingly in each other’s arms - never looking at their feet …
Many such moments are very personal - maybe too much so - to share. Here are mine. You decide:
My second son’s brave and funny, heart breaking, heart healing journey back from alcoholism. He’s 4 years sober now, building a life that gives him joy and self-respect
The singing of the choir in my old church- a genuine Black gospel choir, singing from the soles of their feet up. They worshiped- and I worshiped with them. I miss them.
An old man named Ed, playing old humans, softly, on a jazz saxophone.
There you are. Thanks for jogging my thoughts.
As I’ve aged, I’ve observed the life cycle of many marriages and relationships. Very few of these relationships are happy ones. It pains me to realize that even my own parents, though they love each other, do not share the quality of which I speak.
I can’t describe it, but I always know it when I see it.
It’s elusive and magical and the only similarity that carries over from one couple to another is the happiness that radiates from them because from what bore this happiness is as unique and beautiful as the union they share.
I’m always hopeful, but not dependent upon it.
I think that most people want this happiness and for me I know I would embrace it fully, but its pursuit does not make up who I am.
I am not jealous of this quality that I observe in these very special couples. Witnessing it is acknowledging that it exists. And knowing its existence means that that there may be yet another precious gift life may bestow upon me and add to an already amazing life I’ve lived so far.
Lucy was born with a congenital heart defect that required open heart surgery to correct. At four days old, she triumphed over more than most grown men ever face when doctors opened her chest, removed her heart, repaired it, and placed it back inside her. In the two years since, she’s grown into the strongest, most beautiful little girl.
Still, I can’t help but see a shadow of the frail, broken-hearted baby every time I look at her. Her strength, and the realization of how very close we came to never knowing her, moves me.
I worked for a veterinarian who once let an older woman leave his clinic without paying for the services for her dog received. He made no fuss; he knew that dog meant everything to her and she couldn’t afford the visit. He didn’t know I witnessed this moment; he probably would have been embarrassed simply because it wasn’t the kind of thing he liked to announce. He was a man of many quiet kindnesses.
There have been a few other times that I have had the opportunity to witness someone quietly giving, doing, creating something special for another…simply because they knew it was right, or would help, or might ease a little pain. There were no rewards, no awards, nothing received in return except their own knowledge of what they did. When I see things like this, my heart fills my chest in a way that makes my breath stop.
The incredible landscape of the southwest and the ever changing skies and the intensity of the sunsets here take my breath away. When caught up in daily minutia and I suddenly get a glimpse of the red orange sunset as I’m driving down the highway, I am so taken and lost in its beauty that I forget all the little stuff, forget the crap, the worries, the fear and am moved and filled with joy at the greatness of this earth and sky.
Birth, sunshine & tears.
It’s not so much just one particular site or topic or person. It’s the fact that through sharing our ideas and knowledge, our mistakes and fears and our wishes and dreams with the world we connect in a way that was not possible before.
It’s no longer happening on the other side of the country, the continent or the planet. It’s happening on our desks, in our homes and in our hearts and minds. Incredible joy and incredible sadness, both just a click of the mouse away. Lives ruined and saved, 24 hours around the clock. All part of a new, global consciousness. All there for us to learn from and interact with everybody else.
Joint efforts to solve problems we wouldn’t even have known about 30, 20, even 10 years ago. That we wouldn’t have been made aware off by the mainstream media because these are not sensations, these are real people. Real people with eyes and ears and hearts everywhere. People who can change the world, one problem at a time. Who are free to take matters in their own hands.
It’s no more us and them. It’s just us.
I am moved by endless things, but the most powerful, I would have to say is skin to skin contact. I love to touch and be touched. It is a connection so deep that it can make some people uncomfortable. It brings me back to the sentiments of intimacy and the bare minimum. If we are naked with no possessions, we can still touch and feel. Touch can be a beautiful intimate moment with no indication of anything other than the fact that we all possess a life force beneath our skin that longs for more closeness than achievable in our bodies.
There are moments when I feel the divine. The soft fur on the bottom of a cat’s back paws. The repetitive crack of bat hitting ball in batting practice, children yelling on a distant school playground. A saxophonist holds a note low, creating new life with his own life breath.
I only feel tied into humanity, to compassion, by a desire to serve something greater than myself. The light of people, come together, casting aside differences to celebrate and fight for what they hold in common as human beings. Without that, I have no purpose.
—excerpt from my unpublished novel, Smugglers Rising