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Category Archives: inspiration
An Unremarkable and Sweet Exchange
Okay, to be honest, I debated whether I should share this moment or not. In a way, it seems almost silly for me to share it – because it SHOULD be just a matter-of-fact thing – a “no big deal” thing, really – but… after some other news I’ve heard tonight, I’m feeling impelled to put this out there…
So I’d helped my dad out of the car, and was helping my mom out, when I heard Dad say, “Thank you!” to someone who was opening the door to the apartment building for him. I looked to see what was going on back there, and saw that these two young black men with Seahawks hoodies were holding the door for Dad so he could maneuver his walker into the building. Dad nodded to the young men, and smiled, and thanked them again as I watched him go through the doors, and the young men smiled back and said, “You’re welcome!” and then went on their way. It was a small, insignificant moment, really. But… and I can’t even explain why… I find myself getting teary-eyed as I sit here recalling that simple, unremarkable, sweet exchange between a 97 year-old white man, and those two young men in the hoodies.
You know, there are a lot of really good people in this world who want to do right by each other. There is hope for us.
“Literary Effort” Might Be A Little Exaggeration
There are far, far better poets in this world – but I’m pretty sure you will find few that are schmaltzier than me… and that’s something, right? Just published a new book on Amazon. Here is my latest literary effort (okay, I might be exaggerating a little when I use the word “literary” in reference to this work):
(It is also available on Kindle – http://www.amazon.com/Poem-Lives-My-Windowsill-ebook/dp/B0185U3X5A/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8)
Here is the title poem –
A Poem Lives On My Windowsill
There is a poem on my windowsill.
A treasure found, unfolding grace,
a cup full of fruition.
And love.
I see the caramel-colored agate I found
glowing on a beach in Bellingham,
and the tomatoes nurtured
and ripened on our back deck.
The rose blossoms were picked dew-laden
from our front garden this morning
and placed in the vase I bought for myself
in a rare “impractical” purchase
just because it made me happy
to imagine filling it with future buds.
And there are the ruby-red vases
trimmed in gold that my beloved Aunt Junie
gave me before she left this world
and that I will pass on with love
when that time comes.
A poem lives on my windowsill.
Windowsill (photo by Karen Molenaar Terrell)
Love Is With Thee
“Fear thou not; for (Love) is with thee: be not dismayed; for (Love) is thy God: (Love) will strengthen thee; yea, (Love) will help thee; yea, (Love) will uphold thee with the right hand of Love’s righteousness.”
– Isaiah 41:10 and I John 4:7
photo by Karen Molenaar Terrell
A Simple and Unremarkable Perfection
It is a miracle of perfection.
I am warm and fed and I can hear
my loved one tapping the keys on his laptop
and clearing his throat
near me
I have chamomile tea with cream and a chunk of
sourdough bread and the wind is moving
the rain-splattered screen on the window
and making the lights behind it look like they’re dancing
I feel no pain or fear
I know I’m completely safe
and I imagine coming through some terrible danger
and finding myself in this room
and what a miracle that would seem to be
and how much I’d appreciate the simple unremarkable
perfection of it
and I am filled with gratitude
– Karen Molenaar Terrell
“I have wrestled with the beast and emerged victorious! Mostly.”
I have wrestled with the beast and I have emerged victorious! And in one piece. Mostly. Okay, so there’s a teensy chip out of my forehead. But other than that… I’m good.
I got it into my head that today I would go through the mountain of mail we’ve been accumulating on our counter over the last several months. And when I say “mountain” I am not exaggerating – it over-flowed a basket I started putting it in, and then slowly crept along the counter, working its way west like some insidious beast.
It took more than four hours. I filled up a quarter of our recycle bin. I finally got to a place where I was sorting what was left into files and notebooks. I put one of the notebooks back on its shelf, the notebook knocked a framed poster above it, which knocked the framed poster above IT, and the top poster came crashing down on my head. Glass everywhere. I sort of crumpled up underneath the frame and squatted there until I felt my senses come back to me…
… and felt blood coming down my face…
My husband tried to help – wiped the blood off my face – put a towel to my forehead…
I started laughing.
I went into the living room and started singing hymns to myself. My husband poked his head in to see what I was up to in there, and started cracking up when he saw me. We are a fine pair.
I started taking stock of myself then: Still bleeding? Nope. Still breathing? Yup. Able to think? Yup – well, I mean… as well as I ever did. Has anything really changed here? Nope. Okay. I think you’re good to go…
The son and I had been watching an old Disney movie together – Robin Hood and Little John – and reminiscing about those years when he was little and we’d watch old Disney movies together. We were having a cozy, nostalgic time together tonight. Eating pop corn and drinking cocoa while I worked my way through the flotsam and jetsam on the counter, and he did homework for his university classes. And I felt so completely wrapped up in the warmth and coziness and love all around me that the crashing poster just didn’t seem a part of my night – it couldn’t touch me, or take away from the sweetness of the night in any way.
It was like the whole thing had never happened.
And, speaking metaphysically, I guess it never really did. 🙂
“Accidents are unknown to God, or immortal Mind, and we must leave the mortal basis of belief and unite with the one Mind, in order to change the notion of chance to the proper sense of God’s unerring direction and thus bring out harmony.”
– Mary Baker Eddy
A Most Ridiculous Mirror
…Love is reflected in love. – Mary Baker Eddy
What the heck is going on out there?! Several of my students are dealing with it right now. A couple of my colleagues, too. Friends on Facebook are bringing it up in their posts. And I’ve also been afflicted by it recently. Actually… now that I think about it… it’s possible that I’ve not only been afflicted by it, but that I have been, unintentionally, the afflictOR on occasion.
We are looking at others as if we’re looking in a mirror. We assume everyone else sees the world in the same way we do and then criticize other people for our OWN faults, foibles, and nonsense. We think because WE are envious or angry or hateful or deceptive or manipulative or bullying or bigoted or frightened, everyone else must be, too. And then we tell other people that they feel this, or they think that, or they believe whatever – when really it is US who is feeling, thinking, and believing the whatever. Sheesh. It’s ridiculous.
Last week one of my students began tearing up as we were saying good bye. The tears welled out of her eyes and became streams. I asked her what was going on, and she told me that her mom had told her she was a loser – had told her that she destroys everything.- that she’s no good. And I was looking at this beautiful, talented, brilliant young person and my heart broke for her. She was believing all these lies about herself!
“Just because someone calls you a chair – does that make you a chair?” I asked her. She shook her head no. “Just because someone calls you a table – does that make you a table?” She said no. “And just because someone calls you a loser – does that make you a loser?” She wiped the tears from her face, and shook her head no. ““Listen to me. If somebody thinks you’re a chair, or a table, or a loser, or whatever – that is HER problem. She’s not seeing things right. You are amazing and smart and talented and beautiful.You are valuable. Say it: ‘I am valuable.’” My student started smiling then, and repeated my words to her. “Say it with conviction!” I ordered. And she did – she was laughing now.
Let’s know this about ourselves and each other: We are not tables or chairs. We are not haters or bigots or bullies or losers.We ARE valuable. We are worthy. We are the sons and daughters of Love, Truth, and Life.
Thou to whose power our hope we give,
Free us from human strife.
Fed by Thy love divine we live,
For Love alone is Life;
And life most sweet, as heart to heart
Speaks kindly when we meet and part.
– Mary Baker Eddy
“Jesus beheld in Science the perfect man, who appeared to him where sinning mortal man appears to mortals. In this perfect man the Saviour saw God’s own likeness, and this correct view of man healed the sick.”
– Mary Baker Eddy
Head for the Rainbows
Another lesson from a visit with the folks’: I take Moz and Dad to a little bar and grill on Pearl Street – great food, but maybe not the best ambiance. Dad is sitting across from me, and he is not pleased. He whispers, “Why would we eat here when we can go down the hill a couple blocks and eat lunch on the waterfront?” This is a good question. So we gather up the cane and walker, get back in the car, and head down past the Point Defiance ferry to Anthony’s Restaurant. When we arrive we see a rainbow arching over the Puget Sound – a rainbow we’d have missed if we’d stayed in the other place. As soon as we sit down at our table a torrential downpour falls from the sky. We are sitting all cozy and comfortable and warm inside, while the deluge pounds against the deck outside. And when the rain stops – a DOUBLE rainbow appears over the Sound. Yup, Dad was right. Again. 🙂
If you’re going to take the trouble to go out for lunch, you might as well head for the rainbows, right?
Double Rainbows at Point Defiance
The Noble and Heroic Pablo
We are surrounded by heroes. Yesterday I discovered one at the local espresso stand. Or… I guess he discovered me, really. I had just ordered a mocha, and was waiting at the window to conclude the transaction, when I heard someone say in a gentle voice behind me, “I don’t want to embarrass you, but you have a tag on your pants.” I turned around and saw this young man smiling at me, sort of apologetically. “You have a… ” – he stretched his fingertips out from each other vertically – “…a tag on your pants.”
When he stretched his fingertips out from each other length-wise, I knew he meant I had one of those long plastic strips on my jeans that tells what size they are – I had just bought those jeans the day before and hadn’t realized the plastic strip thingy was still affixed to them. This was embarrassing in so many ways – one of the chief ones being that my jeans size is not something you would ever hear me bragging about, if you know what I mean – and I certainly wouldn’t knowingly walk around with it affixed to my pants for everyone to see.
I started laughing and peeled off the strip. “Thank you!” I said, holding out my hand to shake his hand. And then I discovered that he knew how to shake hands the proper way! – shake, roll the thumbs over, bump fists, and end with a retreating finger-wiggle. He was surprised that I knew how to do this and, by way of explanation, I told him I teach at an alternative high school, so… yeah… “And that’s all the more reason to thank you for telling me about the plastic strip on my pants! Can you imagine how that would have gone over at the high school?!” He and I both laughed together then at the image that conjured up for us.
The barista made a joke about me wanting to leave the plastic strip on my pants to show off that I had new jeans. I pointed out that the plastic strip gave the size of my jeans which is not something I’d really like to advertise to the general public, and she and my hero chuckled about that. “But we’ll just keep my jeans size between ourselves, right?” I asked my new friend. He nodded in the affirmative, and assured me he would never tell – my secret was safe with him.
By this time my mocha was ready and my bill paid. My hero and I introduced ourselves, and I learned his name was Pablo. I asked him if I could take his picture and write about his noble and heroic self in my blog, and he good-naturedly agreed.
I’d almost made it back inside my car, when Pablo yelled to me, “You forgot your debit card! Oh! And you forgot your backpack!”
Sheesh.
“Thanks for taking care of me this morning, Pablo!” I said, grabbing my card and pack. And he smiled his hero’s smile and wished me a good day.
Pablo the Heroic
The Time-Meister
I posted a short video clip on Facebook about Daylight Savings Time that totally cracked me up (if you haven’t seen this, you need to check it out: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k4EUTMPuvHo), and I asked a couple of my FB buddies if I could share their responses in this post.
The great 21st century scientist, Allen Nelson, says –
” I’ve had to change my watch THREE times this week:
– I was in the UK on Sunday, when THEY changed their clocks back.
– I flew home on Wednesday, so had to change time zones.
– And now I have to do it AGAIN !?!
“I know where I am, but I’m not sure when I am.”
And the great 21st century philosopher, Magda Constans, shares –
“I found out that North Korea permanently turned back their standard time by 1/2 hour this past August, so if I were there during that time I’d have gained 1/2 hour, and last weekend I was in Rome, where we changed the clocks back an hour, so I gained an extra hour in Rome, and this weekend we’re changing our clocks in Toronto so I’ll gain another hour. If I keep this up I’ll never get old! LOL!!! Time is illusive, eternity is timeless.”
For me, this is the time of the year when I re-discover my power over time… I mean…not my power over the whole world’s time or anything, but my power over the time inside my car. I will re-discover my power not because I’m, like, a brilliant quantum physicist, but because I do not know which buttons to push and what order to push them in to move my clock backwards. So for six months I will be driving in a parallel universe to the cars around me – a universe in which my car will be moving in a realm an hour ahead of every other car. Of course, when spring comes all the other cars will catch up with me again. But still… six months as a time-meister ain’t bad, right?
The objects of time and sense disappear in the illumination of spiritual understanding, and Mind measures time according to the good that is unfolded.
– Mary Baker Eddy
Adventures of the Madcap Christian Scientist 