wide, open spaces ...

I'm fascinated by the way each of us is so different in the kinds of things that we drawn to or that we respond to. For example, I was talking with a co-worker recently and mentioned that I didn't feel comfortable in Portland, Oregon. I used to travel there on business and found the trees and mountains lush and green and beautiful - but also heavy and oppressive. I felt closed in. I longed for the openness of the expansive horizon at home, of the sun setting over the Pacific. I feel most at peace and most connected to the Divine within when I can see far into the distance, across wide sky and wide open water. It makes me want to spread my arms wide and open my heart chakra. I feel expansive, like I can take a long, deep breath, filling my lungs with fresh air and a feeling of light and freedom.

Busyness - like a forest of trees - and visual "noise" have always made me uncomfortable. I've always tried to be very present to my experiences - the breeze's caress, the warmth of sun, the scent of rain - and perhaps this has increased my sensory sensitivity. I seem to reach a point of sensory overload more quickly than most folks for some reason. I figure it's just the way I'm wired. I'm aware of this, but not much bothered by it any more. It's part of who I am here.

This sensitivity spans a gamut of things. I prefer small gatherings of a few friends instead of a large, raucous party, music blaring, people everywhere. I love to talk and laugh and share jokes in the comfort of an intimate group of people.

I am utterly, cat-purringly content being home with just the sound of the water running in the fountain outside my window, down in the courtyard, as it is right now.

I have no desire to visit New York City. A lot of visual noise of tall buildings blocking the light. I imagine a lot of audible noise as well. Too busy. Too much sensory input.

I can't see the hidden picture in "Magic Eye" stereograms. Everyone else seems to be able to see the picture but me. All I see in them is a lot of busyness. I just can't filter out the visual noise in order to see the hidden picture.

This need for simple sensory experiences extends to my wardrobe, too; mostly solids with a few patterns in a couple of skirts.

Many bloggers make photo collages. I find it very difficult to see the images in the photo collages. (Maybe this is like the "Magic Eye" thing?) I think all of this has something to do with the way my mind processes the things my eyes see.

This need for quiet and calm extends to living spaces, too. Most people would look at the bedroom photo at left and just love the layers of extended wall, shelf, tufted headboard. I find it waaaay too busy for me. Disturbingly noisy. The shelf has too many disparate, unconnected items on it. The mirror, too much ornamentation, particularly when paired in the room with the sleekness of the white bench. Busy baroque clashes with clean-lined modern. It all feels too heavy behind the bed and too puny and underwhelming everywhere else. It lacks balance for me. Like I said, this is just the way my mind processes the input. I know a bunch of people totally love that bedroom.

When I remodeled my kitchen a few years ago, I removed two walls that separated the kitchen space from the living space. Now, I have an open downstairs with no interior walls (except the powder room and closet), completely open and uninterrupted from the front window to the back courtyard. I just love it like this! There's room to dance, to open my arms and spin, to throw down a yoga mat and do a few sun salutations. The breeze dances from the front to the back, tinkling the capiz shell chandelier as it moves through, creating music in my wide, open space.

Heavy and noisy, busy and fussy just don't resonate with me. I need space, I need openness. Wide, open spaces ... quiet and calm ... simple things ... less and less ... a lightness of being and less sensory noise. It's just the way I'm wired.

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ADDENDUM 9/23/08

As I said at the beginning of this post, I'm fascinated by the way each of us is so different in the kinds of things that we drawn to or that we respond to, and all your responses are just wonderful to read. A friend e-mailed me that she is much more comfy in a sunlight-dappled forest; the open sea would intimidate her. If I was in a sunlight-dappled forest, I'd be looking for the nearest widest opening of sunshine - LOL! One of my most memorable experiences of my life is one morning on a cruise when I sat out on a side deck for breakfast all by myself gazing out at the vastness of the open ocean. I love the way we're each wired so differently! No matter your personal preferences - or your politics, since the election is nearing - our differences can be celebrated and enjoyed.

Namaste (The Divine in me recognizes and honors the Divine in you.)

angels in our midst

Each day, someone we encounter may have something wise or wonderful to impart to us.

I try to view others as possible teachers in my life, becoming present to me at this moment on my journey so I may learn and grow. (I may also be there to be teacher to them as well; it goes both ways.) Because of this, I've become less prone to judge and dismiss the random stranger who crosses my path. I've become more attentive and more aware of the Divine that exists in each of us.

Namaste

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Today's simple pleasure: feeling the sun and air on my skin

"We want waffles!"

"So, what do you two little munchkins want for breakfast tomorrow morning? How 'bout those funnel cakes that I have in the freezer?" I asked my granddaughters last Friday night.

They were spending the night at my place, the night before they moved to their new home, the first-ever for-real home - not a rental this time, but their first home, all for their very own with a real mortgage and everything. The girls' beds were taken down at their old house, ready for the big move on Saturday, so they spent the night with me on Friday.

"Yeah! Funnel cakes" said one.
"I want waffles, Nana!" said the other. "Your waffles!"

"Yeah, your waflles" chimed in the first.

So waffles it was. Real waffles, Nana's waffles, just like my mom used to make, straight from the recipe on the back of the Bisquick box. What could be more authentic?

Not giant, square Belgian waffles, with their oversized height and big, puffy nooks. No! I've disliked Belgian waffles since I first encountered them, foreign and alien, unlike Mom's sweet, perfect waffles. I like real, traditional, round waffles with the nooks just the right depth, the edges irregularly shaped and slightly toasty. Made splendidly on my Villaware waffle maker from Williams-Sonoma. (My brother gave me a W-M gift certificate one Christmas, bless him!)

The oldest grand, Bug (aka J) - who loves to cook - helped me mix the batter. What a nice sizzle the batter makes as it hits the hot waffle maker plate! As each waffle was done, we spread butter on each, poured on some real maple syrup, and for Li'l Bug (aka B) - who loves anything sweet - we added some chocolate chips.

Having my granddaughters with me is like playing with puppies! Always having fun, laughing, giggling, moving, dancing, singing, both of them talking at once until I hold up my hand and say "You first, then you. I want to hear what each of you has to say." And they start to take turns, then forget and one yells at the other impatiently "I haven't finished!" They play, they fight, they bicker, they stand up for one another, they disagree, they jump on one another and roll around on the floor, their little-girl giggles like frantic bubbles filling the air like a bubble machine gone crazy.

Because Friday was the last day at their school, their schoolmates all made goodbye cards for the girls. Bug's class threw a surprise party for her, something they planned all week long while her teacher sent her off on various errands to get her out of the classroom. At my house, we took turns with the girls reading their cards. Bug said that for some reason, the boys were surprisingly "insightful" for once, writing very meaningful and heartfelt cards for her. Her friends decorated and made cut-outs for their cards (looks like some have scrapbooking experience), and one made a book filled with funny drawings. Li'l Bug's cards were filled with messages, especially from the boys, saying they didn't want her to go. One boy said he'd "do anything (well almost)" if she'd stay - oh, the little boys all have a crush on Li'l Bug!

We had a fun time reading all their cards on Friday night and had hot waffles for breakfast on Saturday morning before the Big Move to the new house. Three waffles each, the girls had - did I mention they LOVE real waffles?

Now they're living further away from me, no longer just a 12-minute trip from my house; I can't just come over when they call and want me to come over or go to their school events or to every soccer game. Now they're an hour away from me, a 100-mile round trip. I'm grateful I've had them close by for so long, time enough to forge a close bond that can't be broken by distance. We'll find new ways of being together, maybe less often, but each time will hold special meaning. And I'm sure I can always entice them with some hot waffles smothered in butter and syrup.

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Today's simple pleasure: giggling, waffle-eating granddaughters!