Just my thoughts on life and all that entails . I am a spiritual person , I am struggling with lots of issues right now and may vent , whine , pray , celebrate , but most often I will just be sharing my stories . I am , in this season of my life a storyteller . Sharing my stories in hopes that something may be meaningful for someone who stumbles upon this blog . Talking about Mother is totally different than talking about Papa . I occasionally called her little Mama , especially if I was talking about her , but usually I called her Mother . Her grandchildren called her Mom - she didn 't like to be called grandma . Mother was a lot more complex person than my father . Not as easy to get a handle on most days . She would look you in the eye and truthfully tell you her age , or her weight . But she would lie about her height . Mother was probably just a tad less than 5 foot tall . As she aged she shrunk down to about 4 ' 10 " . But all of her adult life , she would tell people she was 5 ' 3 " . Now , everyone knew that wasn 't true , but you did not contradict my little Mama . So , even though I was taller than her by the time I started kindergarten , Mother continued to claim that she was 5 ' 3 " . I asked her once , when I was a brash young teen , why she told people she was taller than she really was . She looked up at me as if I were an alien from outer space , calmly said " I am 5 ' 3 " tall , I always have been . " That was the last time I brought up the subject . I was 6 ' tall by the time I was a teen , and 6 ' 1 " before I stopped growing taller . People would look at us when we were together , of course , commenting on my size , and Mother would tell them " Shoot , she 'd be 7 ' tall if she didn 't have so much tucked under for feet . " or " I grew her that tall on purpose . The man who built my kitchen cabinets was 7 foot tall , I wanted to find out what he might have left on the top shelf . " Mother was sometimes a difficult woman . She raised 6 children , and as we grew older there may never have been a time when she was speaking to all 6 of us at once . She had a bit of a mean streak sometimes , and she seemed happiest when she was surrounded by drama . Now this doesn 't mean she wasn 't the best parent she knew how to be . I think in those days most parents were doing the best they knew how . They were so wrong sometimes , but I honestly believe it was because of the times we grew up in , and not necessarily maliciousness on the part of our parents . My Mother may have been a strict disciplinarian at home , she may have exerted total control , but do not let a teacher or other adult pick on or treat one of her children unfairly . Little mama became a giant in those situations . One of my favorite stories is told from her perspective and mine . My 1st grade teacher was not the best teacher in the world . I was a complication for her , and she would write notes home to my mother . Mother told everyone that she thinks I was born knowing how to read and write , because she certainly didn 't remember teaching me and according to her I was reading at age 2 . I think she probably wasn 't exaggerating too much , because I do not remember when I didn 't know how . Well , my kindergarten teacher thought I was a bit of a problem , probably because I would get bored and rather than napping preferred to spend time reading . In first grade , we started learning to print our letters . The issues arose because I already could write , in cursive , and except for the printing lessons , would write that way . So a letter from my teacher The teacher wanted Mother to tell me that I wasn 't allowed to write in cursive . It seems it caused a problem for the teacher because the other students saw me do it . Mother apparently wrote back that the teacher should not be showing my work to the other students and that I was to be allowed to carry on . Well , that letter must have amused my teacher , because I was on the playground during recess when my teacher and another teacher called me over and asked me in not kid friendly terms who my Mother thought she was . In the middle is not a comfortable place for a 6 year old to be . Mother ended up in the Principal 's office , and according to her the principal , Mr . Johnson , started explaining that first grade children could not be allowed to write in cursive because , as told by Mother , " We use slim pencils when we teach children to write in cursive , Mrs . Jones , and at 6 years old the muscles in their little hands aren 't strong enough to hold a slim pencil . " The next thing my mother said was a question , " You don 't have any idea which child is mine , do you Mr . Johnson ? " He admitted as much and mother told him to call me to the office and that the conversation would not continue until I got there . Now I knew my mother had planned to speak to the principal that day , and so when the call came to my teacher and she sent me to the principal with a smirk on her face I was a bit anxious by the time I was ushered through the swinging gate into the inner offices . I was escorted into the Principal 's office by the school secretary , and my little mama came and stood shoulder to shoulder with me . I was about 1 - 2 inches taller than her . Then she said " Tell me again , Mr . Johnson , about the muscles in her little hands . " Mother grabbed my ' little hand ' and said we were leaving . She asked me where my class was , we marched down the hall , she went in the classroom , the teacher sputtering that she was disrupting the class . Mother told her not to worry , it wouldn 't happen again . Mother cleaned out my desk , and we went home . I was transferred tI also learned to say I love you to the people I love . It was something I never heard growing up . It was a different time . My parents didn 't say it to each other or to us children . I think it would have made quite a difference if I had known how much they loved each other when I was young . I know how much of a difference it would have made if I had known if they loved me . I was blessed that both of my parents died at home in my arms . It may not have felt like a blessing at the time , but as I look back it was . I was able to say good bye to them , knowing that I had forgiven them , and hoping that they had forgiven me . But , no matter , I know that they were loved , and surrounded by love as they crossed over . I wish my husband had not died alone in a car on a freeway . But I know he knew he was loved , and I knew he loved me . We had the opportunity to say that to each other a couple of hours before he was killed by a young woman with almost twice the legal limit blood alcohol count . My husband and I told each other that we loved each other dozens of times a day . William would turn around , and roll his eyes when would ' make out ' in the kitchen . But he knew his parents loved each other , and he knew he was loved , because we told him every day . I still do , I always will . I had to pretty much run away from home to go to college . My father forbid me going , and I ended up living at home a couple of years until I turned 18 and could leave on my own . My mother understood it was something I had to do , and I think that is because she couldn 't afford to go to college when she graduated from high school in 1930 . So , I turn 18 , and I am on my way to the bus station to head to college . The last thing I hear my father say to my mother is that " Nothing good will come of this , she 'll go off and come back pregnant . " He had such faith in me ! So of I went to college , majored in theatre , ended up working in theatre and radio , won awards in both careers . My father saw me on stage one time , and heard me on the radio once . A few years later , when their health was failing , Papa had congestive heart failure , emphysema , and Alzheimer 's . Hard to believe , this was a man who retired from a roofing company at 65 , and went back to work at the roofing company at 67 , and the young guys couldn 't keep up with him . He fell off a roof when he was 73 , around Halloween . He broke his hip and had surgery to implant screws and a rod the first of November . Doctors said he would take 8 months to a year to walk again . On January 1st , we were watching the news and there was a fire at the company where he had worked for 50 years . He said " They 're going to need everyone and went back to work on January 2nd . He worked for several more years , until the Alzheimer 's got bad enough that he couldn 't work anymore . But I digress . . . when his health was getting worse and he and mother couldn 't manage on their own anymore , I left my career in radio and back to California to take care of them . I did not know at that time that I was pregnant . After I had been there a couple of months it became obvious I should see a doctor , and I was shocked to learn that I was expecting . Remember what my father said when I left for college ? Well here it was decades later , I was an award winning actress , designer , and broadcast news director , afraid to tell myDid you notice that I was his old maid daughter ? This is one of my favorite stories . I was working at a theatre on my 25th birthday . We didn 't have a phone back in the costume shop , so if there was a call someone would have to come get us . So it is the afternoon of my 25th birthday , here comes the office girl who says " You have a phone call , it 's you 're father . " My father ? My father never calls . He always has my mother call , even his favorite sister . He will talk on the phone but he never makes the call . Assuming the worst , that something is wrong with Mother I run to the office to answer . I pick up the phone and say hello . My father says hello , and I ask him if everything is OK . Is something wrong with mother ? Here is the rest of the conversation . . . And then he hung up . I am not sure to this day whether he was serious , but once again I did not disappoint my father . I was 47 when I married . I wish he had still been alive to come ! Here 's the last one I will share today . I only talked back to my father twice in my life . The first time was when I was 13 , and it was the last time he whooped me with the leather strap . It had to do with me sassing my mom , and that was NOT allowed . The second time , I was 22 . It was the night before my sister 's wedding . For reasons that don 't really matter anymore , my father had decided he was not going to the wedding . My sister was hurt . Some in the family thought he didn 't want to get dressed up . He wore bib overalls every day of his life . I only saw him dressed up in slacks and jacket one time . But my sister didn 't care if he came in his overalls , she just wanted him to come . One of our older brothers would be walking her down the aisle because of my father 's stubborn stand . So , since we are all busy getting ready for the wedding , it is decided that we would go pick up some take - out food . I ask my father to go with me , and he does . While waiting I get my nerve up and I say to him " I am going to say this and you can whip me if you want , but you are going to that wedding . " " No , I 'm not , " he answers . " Yes , old man , " I say , " you are going to that wedding if I have to knock you out and take you there myself . " Nothing more was said , the food came and we took it home . We all went to the wedding the next day , and left him at home . We got dressed , and the music started . As the maid of honor I start down the aisle just before my sister , and there in the last pew , sitting on the aisle , was an old man in bib overalls . I looked him in the eye and smiled . He did not smile back . My sister , who had not cried yet that day started crying when she saw him . So , later as I drove him and mother home from the reception , a reception where he had a great time and maybe got a little tipsy , he said to me " you were right , but don 't you ever talk to me that way again . " I never spoke back to him again . The morning he died , his mind was amazingly clear . I had him up and bathed and dressed in his beloved overalls . he was playing with my son , who was about a year old . Papa told my son he loved him , then looked at me and said " He 's going to grow up to be a fine young man , I wish I was going to be around to see it . " My father has been on my mind lately . Maybe it 's because of the holidays , or that December is his birthday month . Whatever the reason I have been remembering him . If he were alive he would have turned 107 years old a couple of weeks ago . He was a simple man , born in a different time . He did the best he knew how to do when he was raising us . Many things he did were wrong , but he thought he was doing the right thing , doing the best he could , and so as I matured it was easy to forgive him . Forgiveness is a gift we give ourselves . When we forgive someone we give up that need to have someone acknowledge that we were right and they were wrong . But , as you grow and mature you come to that place where you know that you do not need that acknowledgement because being right is good enough . So you let go of the need , and the power it held over you , and you are liberated . I forgave my parents , and then when they grew older , I took great care of them . I loved my father . He was a good man and many people admired and cared about him . He would say he was a simple farmboy from Missouri , but he was more than that . He had been a muleskinner before he joined the army . Here in Kansas City he would shoe horses and mules , and he kept that occupation in the army . He had a long ugly scar on his shin that he got when a mule that he was putting ice shoes on kicked him . The ice shoes were for working the mules on the frozen Missouri river . He had left school after 8th grade to help support his family . He was the oldest of 8 children , and he took his role as oldest seriously . When my grandfather became ill my father helped take care of them by going to work . He had an amazing , strong work ethic . When work became hard to find in the 1920 's he joined the army . Towards the end of his stint in the army he was based in Southern California . A few months before his discharge he met my mother . He always told the story of how they met and why they married . My mother was a waitress in a diner that was owned by a married couple . My father was a bit of a rogue , a rake in those days and had been seeing the married woman . Then he met my mother and asked her out and she said no . So , he stopped seeing the married woman and asked my m other out again . She went out with him , to the car races on a Sunday afternoon . The next day , when her married boss found out that she had gone out with my father , my mother was fired . My father always said he married her because he had made her lose her job . That was part of the story . When my grandfather found out why my mother lost her job , she was locked in her room . Locked in her room , at 20 years old because she had gone out with a 28 year old man who had been fooling around with a married woman . While she was locked in her room , my father wrote her beautiful love letters , smuggled in to her by her old maid aunt who helped raise her after her mother died . Eventually , my grandfather relented , and my mother and father married . Of course , we never knew about the love or the love letters growing up . I wish we had known about that side of him . We found those after we lost our parents . My father passed first , a month before their 54th wedding anniversary . I was blessed that he passed in my arms at home . He would have hated being in a nursing home . At home I could help him go outside and to his workshop . My mother passed 18 months later , also at home in my arms . We say she passed from a broken heart . She saw no reason to remain on the earth without my father . Her children were grown , and she needed him . It took her 18 months , because I was doing my best to take good care of her . But , she sat on her couch and grieved herself to death , where I am sure she was met by my father . At first I was angry with her . I was taking really good care of her . How dare she will herself to die . But , I have forgiven her , and asked her forgiveness . As a recent widow , I get it . I get how you can be so in love , and loved so deeply that you want to be with him , even if that means you have to be with him on the other side . I hope that my husband has met my father on the other side . I always thought that my father would have been great friends with my husband . I believe that I shall see them all again some day . But as much as I miss my husband , and I now know what a broken heart truly feels like , I have work to do here . I didn 't get 54 years , I only got 11 . But , my son still needs me , and so I will take good care of myself as I take care of him . I will honor them by telling their stories , our stories . I will honor them by making sure that my son saw how much his parents loved each other , and that he knew he was loved . I will honor them and forgive myself and them by remembering . My faith keeps me strong , and yet I feel so weak . Grief is the hardest thing I have ever done . Please , if you know someone who is grieving , let them honor their loved ones by telling the stories . I believe you will be blessed . Today is Christmas Eve . In our family that means that my son is in charge of the kitchen . Not a bad tradition ! I can hear the dishwasher going as I type . We came up with this tradition because I was a working mother - well we all are , but I went back to work full time outside the home when my son started middle school . We were attempting to establish new traditions for our new family . The first couple of years , I would get home from work on Xmas Eve , tired , but I would fix dinner and attempt to go to the movies with my husband and my son . We had the beginnings of a lovely tradition , but as most traditions do , it needed some tweaking to become just right for us . I worked in a huge grocery store . I would finish the midnight shift on the 23rd , and then go back in and work the day shift on the 24th . By the time we closed the store at 6 : 00 pm , took care of all the customers , and allowed the teammates a few minutes to grab that last item , it was often close to7 : 00 by the time I got to my car . I would drive home , tired . So , the next year we decided that we would just have pizza for dinner , and if I called home just before I headed to the car , it could go in the oven . We also decided that Xmas day was a good time for a movie if I wanted to stay awake . My son had begun the habit of baking cookies while I was at work , and so that grew to include the pizza , and then to include his being in charge of the kitchen . He would wait for me to call , and by the time I got home , changed my clothes , and sat down in my recliner to put my feet up dinner would be ready and he would serve Mom and Dad . Then he would finish his cookie baking , while Mom and Dad wrapped presents in their room . It became a lovely way to spend the evening . About the time the gifts were wrapped , the cookies were done , and the three of us would have time together enjoying warm cookies and cold milk . The dishwasher would run again as the plate for Santa was prepared , and then our family would be snuggled in our beds . We are , once again , in the process of allowing our traditions to evolve to fit our circumstances . This year it is just the two of us once again . This year Mom is again an at home Mom . Because of my health , I am no longer able to stand on my feet and check out hundreds of customers a day , in fact I am no longer able to work outside the home . Because of financial problems this year , there won 't be any gift wrapping . But , we will be able to share our kitchen traditions . Today , my son is in charge of the kitchen , and our house is filled with the wonderful aromas of years gone by mixed with a new aroma . My cookie baker makes 2 different recipes every year . He makes the original recipe that he brought home from school all those years ago , and then he bakes a new recipe - either a recipe he has created , or one that caught his eye in a magazine or on the back of the packaging from one of his ingredients . This year the new recipe involves cinnamon chips , and we are eagerly looking forward to trying them . Today I just want to talk about my husband . It 's really difficult some days , and talking about him sometimes makes me sad , but usually makes me feel very happy . One of the most difficult parts of being a widow , is that there is no one to talk to in the middle of the night . Mr . Bill and used to talk to each other for hours at a time . We were very much blessed by being very much in love , but we also genuinely liked each other . Not only is your best friend not here to talk to , but people you know don 't talk about your deceased spouse . No one wants to make you sad , but sometimes you just want to talk and remember . Sometimes , I still wake up in the morning shaking and crying and automatically reaching for my husband whose strong arms have been my place of refuge and safety for over 13 years . As I roll towards his side of the bed to be held and comforted because I have just had the most horrific nightmare that he was killed by a drunk driver , the terror strikes me as I realize that I didn 't dream it , he was killed by a drunk driver , and I will never have a place of security in his arms again . I will never again feel safe and loved and protected . I will wake up screaming from the nightmares that are the legacy of a childhood of abuse and there will be no strong arms to hold me , no fingers to wipe away the tears , no chest to lay my head upon and listen to the heartbeat of the only person who ever loved me , the only person who ever took care of me . I am alone in our bed , and I will be alone through the rest of the day trying to figure out how to take care of the things that Bill always took care of . My most serious health concern is a rare neurological disease - reflex sympathetic dystrophy . The nerves of my sympathetic nervous system have gone crazy and I have the excruciating nerve pain that makes this disease the most painful disease known to man . I am more and more disabled every day , and Bill took care of most of the physical tasks around the house . He cleaned the bathrooms , did vacuuming , the laundry , all of the housework except cooking ( my only chore ) and taking out the trash ( one of our sons chores ) . He helped me with personal care , clipping my toenails , shaving my legs , shampooing my hair . He got very good at combing and brushing my verylong hair . He loved brushing my hair . Bill took care of the yard , raking , mowing , edging . He took such good care of the yard that our neighborhood association called it " one of the best maintained yards in the neighborhood . " He took great pride in our home , and in us . This time of year is a natural time for remembering , the winter season is a time for reflection and renewal . Today , with the solstice upon us , we are reminded that there is a reason why most cultures , from our prehistoric ancestors until the present time have holy days and ceremonies at this time of year . The nights are long , and life has slowed down as the earth sleeps and rests for the growing that will come . We as human beings have always seemed to be more spiritual at this time of year . We have time to reflect , and time to share the stories of our lives and the lives of those who have come before us . We have time to be social , and so we honor this season with ritual , tradition , and ceremony . We have time to tell our stories . As you go through this season , no matter your traditions , I hope that you will find time to share someone 's stories . Take a few minutes to connect with a friend who is grieving , or an older relative , and just give them to opportunity to remember . If they cry , all that is needed is your hand on theirs . If they laugh , your laughter will naturally come to mingle . It may be the greatest gift they receive this year . Wow , when i started this blogging , i thouhgt i would be able to post every day or two . But then , stresses and some kind of flu bug attacked my house . And here it is 10 days later . I think I am finally feeling a bit better , and hope to get back to regularly posting . This time of year is getting too hard ! ! ! My son and I were in the kitchen a few minutes ago . As he went to put something in the trash he got too close to the orange tree and got poked by a 4 inch thorn . He said he was OK , and then remarked that not everyone has an 8 foot tall orange tree in their kitchen . Had to agree with him there ! So how does a family living in the midwest end up with an orange tree in the kitchen ? Well , orange trees don 't do well in cold weather , so while the tree lives on the deck most of the year , it comes inside for the winter . In about 4th grade , my son stuck a seed from an orange he was eating in a pot of dirt . Wasn 't even good dirt , but it was sitting there , an empty pot of dirt , because the plant had died . So this young boy , whom Most High had blessed with autism , stuck an orange seed in a pot of dirt , and Mom did not have the strength to tell him it wouldn 't grow . Of course this leads me to the quote for the day . . . No man ever wetted clay and then left it , as if there would be bricks by chance and fortune . Plutarch My son put that seed in that little pot of dirt , because we had recently had a lesson on growing things . In his ' Sesame Street Treasury ' books , there was a hands on lesson about growing things , so we had suspended the avocado seed in the jar with the toothpicks , we had planted the sweet potato , and then he took the orange seed and put it in the little pot of dirt . Now he did not leave it at that . NO , he faithfully watered and tended his little garden , and I 'll be darned if something didn 't sprout up . He nurtured it through the winter , and by spring , there was a little orange tree about 4 inches tall sitting on my desk . Now , by this time my son had grown weary of growing things . Not much attraction there for an instant gratification kind of kid . Growing things takes patience and nurturing and effort that doesn 't always show results for months . Kind of like the habits we are building for our road to healthier selves . Those habits don 't miraculously appear . As our quote for the day says , we can 't just wet the clay and think that bricks will form themselves . No we have to mold that clay , and we have to form those bricks , and then we have to provide a safe place for those bricks to cure and harden before we can use them to build a road . Wet clay does not become a brick by merely wishing it so . I remember when I first started going to Weight Watcher meetings . There was a woman in my meetings who showed up every week , got on the scale , had a gain , and then whined for the rest of the meeting . Finally I asked her if she had talked tPosted by This is why we must all learn that we are valuable , worthy individuals , women of immeasurable beauty . I am reminded of something that happened when I was still working at the grocery store . I had a young woman and her daughter , about 5 years old , come through my line . I was commenting on the fact that I saw kid food , and then I said I see healthy food , I bet Mom is eating healthy things . The little girl said " That 's because she 's fat . " I looked at the little girl and said , " Mom 's not fat , Mom is very beautiful , and you look a lot like her . " The little girl said " Except I 'm not fat . " Even though we were very busy , I took a moment to look in the eyes of the mom , and said " You know that when you say things about your body , you are building your daughter 's body image . Please know that you are a beautiful young woman , and if you choose to believe otherwise , you are wrong . " I could see in the eyes of the Mom that she did not know that , that this beautiful woman who was not overweight , did not know that she was beautiful . I hope that she took in what I was trying to tell her . I hope that somehow she would learn that she has beauty and value so that she won 't pass on the wrong message to her daughter . We all know people , women especially whose light has gone out . We may indeed be one of those who is in need of rekindling . We may have let someone teach us that we are not beautiful because they did not realize their own beauty . So today , choose your words carefully , speak aloud your beauty and worth . Speak it even if you don 't believe it yet . Speak it until you believe it . The next generation of woman is listening and learning from you . When I was the same age as that little girl , I was blessed to have a teacher who taught me the truth , and who chose to kindle the flame in me . I am deeply grateful every day for that . I choose to keep my flame burning so that I may kindle another flame . This is how I honor the one who taught me . Today I leave you with a traditional Navajo prayer . . . I open my meditations with this . . . As I walk , asEsther Belle The quote for today . . . Become so wrapped up in something that you forget to be afraid . ~ ~ Lady Bird Johnson ~ ~ Fear can be our best friend or our worst enemy . There is a natural fear that keeps us safe in dangerous situations . It served our ancestors well . Big ugly animal looks our way , fear kicks in , our adrenal gland goes into action and we have the speed of an Olympic sprinter removing ourself from the danger zone . The fear response is a natural and necessary thing for our survival . However , for too many of us , fear has taken a place in our lives that it doesn 't deserve , so that instead of that fear response kicking into action and giving us the strength to take action , we become paralyzed , and trapped in a place of inaction . We let fear become something that imprisons us , rather than help us . How many of us have allowed our weight issues to keep us from growing and maturing and reaching out for new opportunities . How many times have we stopped ourselves from trying something because we just " know " that we will be judged because of our size . How many of us settle for less in our lives because we think that our weight issues make us some type of second class citizen , undeserving of the best that life has to offer . None of those things are true . Overeating is not a character flaw , it is just overeating . Are you staying in a bad job because you think it would be hard to find a better job , after all , you are overweight . Are you staying in a bad relationship because a bad relationship is better than no relationship and after all who would want you , you are overweight . None of these things are true , none of them . Weight issues should not keep you living in fear of trying for , reaching for the best life has to offer . Now , that is not to say that we shouldn 't be learning to deal with our weight issues , but we must not put living on hold until we are some magical mythical size . If I had done that I would never have accomplished anything . Anything is possible . A 6 foot tall 300 pound 11 year old girl who is called a freak by the mothers of the other children in the neighborhood can dream of going to college , of becoming an actress , and can grow up to have a career in the theatre and radio . These things , and a thousand other fabulous things were at my fingertips because I knew the difference between good natural fear and fear that is created by untruth . Fear is the mind killer , so goes the mantra of the strong women in my favorite science fiction series . Do not let the dreams of your mind die because of fear . Get so wrapped up in taking care of you that you forget to be afraid . Get so wrapped up in learning to make the best choice you can in any situation that you forget to be afraid . Get so wrapped up in learning to forgive yourself when you make a less than great choice that your forget to be afraid . Fear that moves you to action is good , fear that keeps you from stepping out , is not good . Letting go of the fear is the best choice you can make today . Peace and Blessings , EstherBelle Several years ago I started a daily thread on the Weight Watchers message boards . About that time , sitting on my desk was a daily quote calendar . So , I began a habit of using the quote as a springboard for a daily essay relating to life 's struggles . My husband , Mr . Bill , began encouraging me to put my thoughts together in a book . When he was killed I had about half a book written . I started this blog , in part , to get back into the habit of writing so that I might be able to finish the book . Along the way , I will write new things , as well as share excerpts from the things I wrote before I lost Mr . Bill . This was his favorite piece . . . I saw the angel in the marble and carved until I set him free . ~ ~ Michelangelo ~ ~ Sometimes I see a quote and I know it has to do with the journey that we are all on . That journey towards being healthier in body , mind and spirit . I saw this quote this morning and passed it by , then Spirit told me to go back . So as I looked at these words I saw that this is exactly what our journey is all about . Just as Michelangelo could look at a hunk of marble and see the angel inside , we must learn to look at ourselves and see the incredible , beautiful , capable woman inside and care and chip away at all of the untruths and detritus that keeps her from being free . There is much to chip away . We can 't learn to be our authentic selves until we learn that who we are has nothing to do with who we think others expect us to be . We must learn to recognize the ' angel ' in our block of marble , and sometimes it takes us a while to recognize her , because she doesn 't look like who society , or our parents , or our husbands , or our friends expect . She doesn 't look like who we expect because we have gotten our truths all mixed up with the untruths that we need to chip away . So as we travel this journey , we must learn to chip away at the expectations of others . We must learn to carve our truth out no matter what untruths we have to toss into the trash bin . Sometimes it will seem easier to leave our ' angel ' in the block ofEstherBelle As we move from summer into fall , we are moving into a different rhythm of life . Those with school age children are getting into the juggling of schedules for school and homework and activities . It seems that life revolves around the children 's world , and we just don 't have enough hours in the day to get everyone where they need to be . Dance , tumbling , sports , parent teacher meetings , open houses take up our evenings . The mornings are a rush of getting everyone up and out the door , decent and fed and ready for the day . Those who work outside the home are off to the job , stay - at - home moms are working too . Now we add the holiday season ! Seems as if the to - do list just grew exponentially , and the time , well that shrunk exponentially . It all revolves around the family . That family may be mom and dad and one or more children , or may be just mom and a child or two . No matter what the family looks like it is a family , and it is the sun that our planets revolve around . So , there we are juggling as fast as we can to keep all of the balls in the air . Oh , wait , there is a ball sitting on the floor , not being tossed in the mix . Which ball is that ? Oh , yeah , it 's the ball that represents the time to care for ourselves . Well , that 's just not as important , we think , all these other balls are higher priority . We 're wrong of course . That ball sitting there on the floor should be our highest priority . Taking care of ourselves should be job one . BUT , we start , The kids , the husband , they have all of these needs . I just don 't have time . So , we keep juggling , and we get so tired , and we get kind of frustrated and resentful , and we get burned out . Oh , we sigh , what is the answer ? The answer is that we need to pick up that ball from the floor first . We need to find time to take care of our needs , and as my son so eloquently says " Time to refresh your soul " . But how ? Well , just like every part of our journeys , it starts with one step . The first step is to find time to just breathe . Time to find a few minutes to sit still , and fill our lungs with the gift of the wind . It is time to find a place that is just for us . Doesn 't have to be a big space , can be just a chair in the corner of the bedroom , or a place on the deck . Any place that we can claim for our needs . It needs to be quiet and comfortable . Place an item or two that please you next to the chair . I have a knick - knack that represents a mother sitting in a rocker . It was a gift from our son and Mr . Bill about 10 years ago . I have a worry stone that Mr . Bill bought me on our family honeymoon trip to the Black Hills . So , once we have claimed our space all we need is a bit of time . If we are claiming a few minutes at the end of the day , we might start by making a cup of tea . Use the time while heating the water and brewing the tea to start claiming the time as your own . Telling yourself that this time is sacred . This time is for you ! Now you have your cup of tea , my favorite is chamomile , since it helps me relax and sleep better . I sit down with my cup of tea , and breathe . In through the nose , out through the mouth . As I breathe in slowly , deeply , I draw in strength . As I breathe out slowly and fully I let go of the stresses and tensions of the day . Breathe in strength , breathe out the toxins of stress . Now I can sip my tea for a moment and pay attention to my breathing again . Breathe in , breathe out . Each inhalation and exhalation can become a prayer . This is why I say for me to breathe is to pray . As I take a long slow deep breath , I breath in the wind , which is the Spirit , and allow Spirit to blePosted by