Still a dreamer…Old Memories and New Hopes

Archive for January, 2014

Lost…..And…..Not Found

40 years ago in Paris. We were in our 30’s. Paris is romantic at anytime of the year. This was April in Paris, and my husband wanted to buy me something special, to remind me of spending my birthday in France. A sterling silver large link bracelet was my chosen gift. The elegant shop was on the very beautiful Champs-Elysees. The price was outrageous for sterling silver. $75.00. It was exquisite. Practicing Buddhism, we are taught not to put great value on material things. This was sentiment, of the highest degree living within me. I treasured my silver bracelet and wore it almost everyday. I lost my silver bracelet. Visiting in Richmond, Virginia has been and always will be a family fun experience. I love and am loved on a daily basis. So, it was devastating to me that in this love fest atmosphere, I lost my silver bracelet. My last post on this blog was called “Mysterious Large Black Handbag” about finding one in the lady’s room in NYC, and how gratifying it was to reunite the owner and the bag……..and now this. Guess one good deed does not always produce another, but kindness must prevail even when not returned. My treasured bracelet just vanished from my wrist. It was so heavy, I would have heard it fall. Where could it be? Who knows except the finder. We were in many parking lots, and just as many shops. Wal-Mart to Sephora, and a few in between. Phantom feelings of my bracelet still on my wrist exist. Tears flow quickly when I think of my birthday with my husband in Paris so many years ago. I can’t even imagine someone else wearing my bracelet. We searched. Oh how we searched. Over and over again in all the same places. Under the bed, in the closet, thinking it was stuck on a piece of clothing I wore, could it have fallen in a drawer, under the bed once again. In every nook and cranny in the car. Places my fingers couldn’t even reach it was so tight, I still tried to reach. I was beginning to become obsessive. At least I knew not to look in the refrigerator. A friend lost her cell phone and there it was, among the cheeses and egg cartons. I called the Henrico County Police Department to make a report. We made signs for the car window, for the little cafĂ© to put on their door, the calls over and over again to the stores Lost and Found, each time hoping this time, they would say “it is here, your bracelet.” A free ad to run three days in the Richmond Times Dispatch. We did it all, we tried everything. Proving something sad to me. There are some people who wouldn’t think of returning something that didn’t belong to them. Unheard of for me to even think in that way…….and then the others who reached out just to say I understand. My family, my friends. Twitter friends tweeted as far away as Japan, Egypt, Spain, Italy, and many other places. A wonderful community of care. The Lovely Land of Twitter. A woman named Barbara read the ad and felt she had to call. Quickly she said she was sorry she didn’t have the bracelet, but wanted to know if she could help in anyway. She lost a treasured ring when she was a young girl and never forgot, given to her by her now deceased parents. She related. I knew after 5 days, I had to let go. When you lose, the missing is intense. Knowing that replacing is impossible. What was lost was priceless. Loss is a loss forever……..My husband died 9 years ago. Loss, like a diamond in the sand.
“Oh no Paulette. I’m heart broken with you. How sadly ironic that you share this story so shortly after you were able to spare another such hurt. I don’t see your reaction as materialistic. It’s just that it really does hurt when we face loss. I’m glad you had such a great run with your sterling silver bracelet, and I’m holding out hope that somehow it finds its way back to you.”………written by Angie from Arizona. A Twitter friend with kindness and compassion. Thank you lovingly dear Angie.

The mysterious large black handbag

At the airport, I would have been terrified, but this happened in the lady’s room across from the Rose Theater, a venue of Lincoln Center Jazz. I left the stall, and was on my out, when I spotted a lone large black handbag leaning on the mirror part of the counter. No one seemed to claim it on their way out, and who would leave their bag in the first place? No one. I asked several women as they left if it was theirs, and they all said no, and went on their way. My friend came out of her stall, and I told her the little saga, and said perhaps I should take the bag to security. We couldn’t take a chance and just leave it, but on the other hand, someone had to realize they didn’t have their purse. We waited for about 10 minutes, and I decided to find security, and my friend said she would stand guard in case someone came running back to the lady’s room. Well, just as the security guard came to the ladies room, a young woman about 30, totally in panic mode was running toward the ladies room, almost hysterical. I said “are you looking for your handbag?” I assured her my friend was guarding it with her life, and no one touched it. The relief on her face, well just imagine if you left your bag somewhere in a New York City ladies room….what are the chances it would still be there, when hostesses in restaurants warn never to put your bag on the back of your chair. Relief is putting it mildly. She thanked us over and over again, and I asked if it wasn’t there, would she have gone to security, and she said no. So my friend saved the day by her 15 minute guard duty ,and all turned out happily ever after. Mysterious large black handbag and her owner together again…

Soul Filling Experience….and then

There is just something mood evoking and soul filling about jazz. Difficult to explain, you have to experience it. Tonight I was at Dizzy’s Club, Lincoln Center Jazz venue with a friend, enjoying Kenny Werner’s quintessential quintet. He on piano, Randy Brecker, trumpet, David Sanchez, tenor sax, Scott Colley, bass, and An Hoenig on drums. I feel so grateful to be living in one of the greatest cities in the world, taking in the creative energy that surrounds me. Sadly, walking to the bus,I saw a homeless person in a doorway. It is absolutely freezing in the city.. Calling 311 actually worked, and there was help on the way to take him/her to a shelter.. I wasn’t able to tell gender they were so covered up. So one part of me was rejoicing in the fact I just experienced brilliant musicians in the city I love, and then to see what I witnessed. I know that’s life, but instead of remembering the evening of music, looking at a freezing person in a doorway is what has stayed with me. In a little while, I will once again bring back the memories of the music. Minding my mind is necessary for me to have quality of life. So my soul can hear the music again, but my eyes and heart can’t forget the person in the doorway.

Lazy is Good

What a delicious day it is…about 7 inches of snow and freezing freezing out there. Plans cancelled for last night and today, and fine with that. Hoping to get to Lincoln Center Jazz tomorrow night with a good friend who is moving to the city. A lovely bonus being able to enjoy events with her. I plan on visiting 97-year-old Edith tomorrow. I wrote a blog about her called Her Wonderful Spirit. Her favorite saying is “you take yourself wherever you go.” She keeps telling me “age is just a number.” and her other words of wisdom…”don’t go looking for a man. If he’s meant to be in your life, he will be there, in your path.” This lazy kind of day, I think of Edith who needs to be busy the entire day taking advantage of all the activities at the Senior Residence she lives in. She closes up the place at about 11pm after an evening of dinner, movie or live entertainment and rummy Q. So other than being on the computer, I must say my pile of papers are still my pile of papers. I have bright orange folders to put in all the scraps of paper I write on, newspaper articles to reference, and a few small mounds of other papers. It’s 5pm and my deadline is 6pm to do my morning hour routine. Chanting, yoga, and weights. All contributing to a zen feeling. Not eating boxes of candy, not downing bottles of vodka or wine, not popping pills, just chilling in a positive way…………………and the best part of all??? NO GUILT…I will get to those paper though. Soon

Heartfelt Thanks

At this beginning of this New Year, I would like to thank everyone that reads my blog. If you follow, or read on other social networks, I thank you most kindly for supporting me, and as Sally Fields once said, “liking me.” and the bonus is when you leave a comment, or I am notified on email. The creative process is a combination of the agony and the ecstasy. Most creative people have somewhat of a soul connection to each other. We often experience life in a very different way. Our senses are enhanced and our dreams are often unrealized. I have had articles published, but as yet the 80,000 word women’s humor fiction novel has yet to be. I have a co-author, and we are doing some editing, and hope to submit again soon. We thought about self publishing since there is no stigma against. A self published author won the Pen Award this year. What is thrilling to me are twitter followers from all over the world, and to know my words are being read and appreciated is gratitude beyond what I can even express. I have a passion for writing, and find that it’s a great release for creative energy. Designing clothing was fun and exciting to see others wearing my designs, but writing comes from a part of your heart and soul, that is more of a spiritual experience that is a bit difficult to describe.I will end this post with one of my favorite quotes and hope you enjoy as well. “The sweetest songs yet remain to be sung.” Walt Whitman……………..May your songs be sung in 2015 and beyond.

Less is More/Letting Go Of Stuff/ Or Maybe Not

Fortunately, I don’t need to lose weight. I have been eating healthy and doing yoga for over 35 years. What I would like to do is let go of some stuff. I live in a minimal contemporary setting with little or no clutter. What lurks are the things. Some I haven’t worn, some I will never wear, some I wear rarely, but they are part of me and I can’t part with them. I once designed a line of clothing called Sensuous Sweats. Casual very practical and timeless. I rarely if ever buy clothes, shoes, handbags etc etc. I have learned over the years to collect what I love, and go shopping in my closet. I think of myself as very low maintenance. If by some miracle, I met a new love, he would never have to buy me anything. The only wonderful luxury would be a woman masseuse to come here every night and put me to sleep. I would trade in the half of xanax for that anytime. The time has come to let go of what lurks behind all my closets. Now how can I get rid of my mother’s beautiful dress that I remember, not only her wearing, but I did as well. Her scent White Shoulders still smolders a bit on the silk crepe. Lingerie I collected whenever I went to Paris, I can never let them go. This has to be a process, a work in progress. Maybe just a few things that I know I will never wear. Exquisite hand-made evening shoes that unless I had not one, but two men to support those high heels, I will never wear. I live in 700 sq.ft. and my bedroom is lovely. Built in closets with a bed. Clothes are all neatly hung, thanks to Huggable Hangers. New Years Eve is sad , because at one time it was a formal affair at the club, live big band sound, a festive time to remember with my husband. Silks, satins,lace long Pucci vintage gowns, hanging neatly in a row lingering with wonderful scents of Joy, and probably every scent Guerlain ever made. A lifetime ago, another life, one that doesn’t exist now. I look at everything and realize I could never afford to buy my own clothes today. Would never think of paying the ridiculous prices they would be now. If invited to any event just go to “the closet.” Every so often, I lovingly take a few out of the closet, hold them up, look at them,feel the lovely fabrics, take in their scent, and then, they go right back in again. Give to family you say? Of course, but I’m a very small size, shoes as well, and they wouldn’t even fit my granddaughter. I have over the years given some of my favorites to one of my favorite friends, and they became her favorites, and that was a great feeling. My “stuff” I realize is more than “stuff”. They are my memories that I keep, hanging on to forever, as well the clothes hanging in my closet.

Happy Happy????

It seems to me that so much pressure is put upon us to be happy. In practicing the philosophy of Buddhism, happiness is a goal to attain. We all go through periods of life when happiness is impossible to feel. I realize it is perfectly fine not to feel happy all the time. Perhaps if born with a cheery personality, the feeling of happiness is easy. People are trying so hard to be happy, that they feel guilty not being happy all the time. Then, there are others who relish in their unhappiness. I prefer to use the description content or OK, and that is perfectly OK. There is much that contributes to happiness that I live by. A glorious feeling, although somewhat illusive. My brother , a psychiatrist for over 50 years said” patients look for a happy pill.” There is no such thing, if they dislike their life, the pill will make it easier to cope, but basically their life “still sucks” in their words and state of mind. I think I represent many that can feel utter joy at times, and then the other moments of sadness, and then the hard work it takes without counseling working on myself. Not by some therapists who could do more harm than good. An unskilled surgeon can kill you, and an inadequate therapist can kill your soul. So, I’m my own therapist, and it works for me, in keeping a positive energy and spirit surrounding me. I would never judge those who benefit from therapeutic guidance, medication, or both. I am grateful I never suffered from clinical depression, just the normal reactive sadness that is perfectly accepted by me, and if I suffer from anything, it’s acute sensitivity. When I was in my 20’s I was at a party chatting socially with a rather well-known psychiatrist, I felt comfortable enough to ask if out of seven days, four were great and the rest, sometimes not so great but still productive. The other three had some dwelling in the past, fearing the future. He thought four out of seven ? Terrific. So I had permission to feel it was OK. I realize and exalt at this age and time in my life, what really gives me contentment and gratitude…and also accept why I still mourn for my husband and my life as I knew it. My happy times switch from dreaming about meeting my next soul mate, which is as unrealistic as becoming the first female pope, made even more difficult by the fact I am not Catholic, nor do I intend to convert, contrasting with hoping and dreaming never giving up certain goals. Contentment and satisfaction in my life is consistent, joy being with family and friends, having a passion for writing, enjoying soul nourishing music, beautifully mood evoking, and knowing I show kindness at every opportunity, so I have come to the conclusion, I may not laugh as much as I should, and I protect myself not reading or watching depressing anything. Taking in the energy living in one of the greatest cities in the world. I’m aware of all the news, just not overly involved. So instead of the Happy New Year I have been saying, I am going to be realistic and wish everyone good health, good times and the lovely feeling of contentment and gratitude. Not a less than happy feeling. Searching always for realistic rainbows, appreciating the colors, but not looking for the pot of gold. and most of all, living and rejoicing in the moment. Every hour doesn’t have to be happy, but every moment must be relished. Not so difficult. Is that sort of happy? I think so!