I am now starting to decorate my house for Christmas, and I keep thinking of bubbles. I think of these as I unpack the ornaments. All are so perfectly round and so perfectly the right size. I remember thinking of bubbles as I filled a bathtub full of water this morning and the bubbles moved through the water. Each so perfect but so different. Each having no color, but having the perfect presence. Each one brings me to the next place in its shape. Each one has the continuous fluid nature that draws me in to each one.
It is the clarity of the bubble draws me in. I can see through it and beyond it, but stay fixed on it. I see it move through the water away from the source of the bubble, the faucet. I see so many different shapes. I see some so small and gentle that the bubble doesn’t last very long. I see some medium and big ones that move away from the source that seem to fade at different rates. The big ones that seem so strong, pop when I least expect it. The medium ones seem to feed off of the movement of the faucet and seem to actually acknowledge the need for the water source and seem to grow bigger and more and more full of purpose as they move away from the faucet. However, it seems that some can’t move away from the source without bursting. These bubbles seem to be without purpose.
Can it be that these bubbles are teaching me that I can’t really exist unless I know my purpose? I can be strong, but destroyed if I don’t feed off of the source of life. Leads me to question what is the purpose of my life? Is my life what it should be? What is it that I am supposed to be anyway?
I know at my core that I am supposed to be a wife and a mom. I’ve always known that about myself. I felt called to the vocation. That is the easy part of my journey. The extension of that call is what brings me the most pauses in my day. How do I make the most of that call? I so want to move through the water bringing calmness to the moment rather than bringing a storm to the moment. I want the bubbles to lead me.
I want to know that I can turn to something to lead me. The confusion in my life begins when I stop believing that there is a path. How often I look to the distortions in my life as the path instead of the source of the life in my life. I need to begin to focus on the bubbles that form in my life from the choices and the life of those that are attached to me as I move through my day.
How does this lead to my Christmas decorations? The circles of life always appear on the Christmas tree. Isn’t that what God wants? He seems to want us to focus on circles that never stop rather than lines that have an end point. He called us to a place that exits as a circle. He calls us to a life that begins and ends as best explained as the circle of life. He brings those things into our home most especially this Christmas season in the community I’ve built though the circle of people I invite into my home. He makes me acknowledge the bubbles in my life. He makes me acknowledge that the ornaments in my life define who I am. I can choose the ornaments and whether to display them or keep them hidden.
I pray the ornaments in my life allow me to expand my circle and lead me to true purpose of my life.
Merry Christmas to all. Talk to you again soon.
Eileen
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Art
The colors on page, the movement of an arm, the style of hair, the tone in a voice, or the words on a page seem to always draw me into the moment. Each of these allows me to see the expression of the moment that is more than the moment. My eye is turned toward these things in a way that is more interesting than if those things were not so significant.
I am thinking of the daring hairstyles of the designers of the dances that we so love. I see this so clearly on the show, So You Think You Can Dance. The styles are so interesting and not so expected. The hair is darker or brighter and more daring than what I am used to seeing in my world. It is like artwork in itself.
I always feel that way about my home. Each item that I display or the arrangement of the furniture is an opportunity to showcase the piece. I always know that each piece is not at its best without the other and its relationship to another piece creates the extra value. I also see this grace in the movement of dance. The dance is always better when there is more than one dancer. The individual dancer is complimented by the movement of the other dancer. The music increases the compliment even more. How can a dance be at its best without each of the components that makes it more than what it is in the head of the designer of the dance?
The dance is designed by one, decorated by an other, performed by yet another and each of these steps is what breathes life into the dance. The same is true for my home. I need the designer of each component to give me inspiration. I need the bones of the house to build the personality that exits. The colors of the walls are the finishing touches of the paintbrush given to this house. I need the canvas of the house to in order showcase the life that I have been given and the immediate essence that I need to express.
The change of a location of a chair or the color of a pillow allows me to change my focus and to change the personality of the room isn’t that so in my life? I so need to have the opportunity to take the bones that I have been given and to change the location or the focus of my moments to begin to develop the balance that is right for me to give to the world. I need to rest in those moments for a little or a long while, but also knowing that I can change the focus or the position of the things in my life as my life emerges.
For me it seems that I need each of the locations in my life to build my life to be the life that it is supposed to be while on earth. I have needed the struggles and the joys to truly unlock the truth of my life and to see beyond the dim light that I sometimes focus on to the bright light that leads to the truth. I need the various colors on a page, the fine-tuned tone of the voice in song, the arrangement of a composer of music, the artful arrangement of flowers in a vase. These are the things that make life more than song, more than the practical matters of life, into the life that gives true meaning.
Peace and talk to you again soon,
Eileen Borski
I am thinking of the daring hairstyles of the designers of the dances that we so love. I see this so clearly on the show, So You Think You Can Dance. The styles are so interesting and not so expected. The hair is darker or brighter and more daring than what I am used to seeing in my world. It is like artwork in itself.
I always feel that way about my home. Each item that I display or the arrangement of the furniture is an opportunity to showcase the piece. I always know that each piece is not at its best without the other and its relationship to another piece creates the extra value. I also see this grace in the movement of dance. The dance is always better when there is more than one dancer. The individual dancer is complimented by the movement of the other dancer. The music increases the compliment even more. How can a dance be at its best without each of the components that makes it more than what it is in the head of the designer of the dance?
The dance is designed by one, decorated by an other, performed by yet another and each of these steps is what breathes life into the dance. The same is true for my home. I need the designer of each component to give me inspiration. I need the bones of the house to build the personality that exits. The colors of the walls are the finishing touches of the paintbrush given to this house. I need the canvas of the house to in order showcase the life that I have been given and the immediate essence that I need to express.
The change of a location of a chair or the color of a pillow allows me to change my focus and to change the personality of the room isn’t that so in my life? I so need to have the opportunity to take the bones that I have been given and to change the location or the focus of my moments to begin to develop the balance that is right for me to give to the world. I need to rest in those moments for a little or a long while, but also knowing that I can change the focus or the position of the things in my life as my life emerges.
For me it seems that I need each of the locations in my life to build my life to be the life that it is supposed to be while on earth. I have needed the struggles and the joys to truly unlock the truth of my life and to see beyond the dim light that I sometimes focus on to the bright light that leads to the truth. I need the various colors on a page, the fine-tuned tone of the voice in song, the arrangement of a composer of music, the artful arrangement of flowers in a vase. These are the things that make life more than song, more than the practical matters of life, into the life that gives true meaning.
Peace and talk to you again soon,
Eileen Borski
Monday, November 23, 2009
The Wave In My Hair
I look back on the pictures of my youth and I know there are so many things in the picture, but the only thing I ever see is the wave in my hair. It seems so different from what I ever expected to look like. I always wanted to have thick, straight blond hair. I always wanted to look just like the other people in my family. I wanted to be petite and delicate. But that isn’t how it turned out.
I have a stature about me that isn’t to be compared to what I ever imagined. I have jet black hair (with a little gray I must admit) and amazingly the tiniest hands. I have big teeth and small lips. I have small ears, but big hips. Wow what a picture that paints in my mind. It seems so out of proportion.
It seems that I needed the combination that was given me to be the person that I am supposed to be. I just love leaning down and hugging my mother. It seems that I will break her when my stature reaches into her, but I never do. She seems to fit me just perfectly. It seems that the hug is so much better that I have to lean into it for it to exist
I have the opposite when I lean into hug my husband and my son. I must reach so high. It seems I’ll never get there but I always seem to make it. The hug is such a blessing when I get there. The warmth and calmness always overwhelms me that I can’t describe it.
Right now I’m thinking of the story of Goldilocks. I am looking for just the right match. The girl I am thinking about has thick, blonde hair (or for now brown). I am thinking of a girl that is just my height. The girl is strong-willed just like me. She has round cheeks just like me. She is from me. She is the fruit of my womb. I’m thinking of my beautiful daughter, Elizabeth.
Wow, I am so glad I thought of the wave in my hair today. I am so glad I have the wave in my hair as it makes me who I am. I am the product of my mother, the wife of my husband and the mother of two awesome children. Thank you God for the gift of my life. Happy Thanksgiving to God, and to all of the people of the world.
Talk to you again soon,
Eileen
I have a stature about me that isn’t to be compared to what I ever imagined. I have jet black hair (with a little gray I must admit) and amazingly the tiniest hands. I have big teeth and small lips. I have small ears, but big hips. Wow what a picture that paints in my mind. It seems so out of proportion.
It seems that I needed the combination that was given me to be the person that I am supposed to be. I just love leaning down and hugging my mother. It seems that I will break her when my stature reaches into her, but I never do. She seems to fit me just perfectly. It seems that the hug is so much better that I have to lean into it for it to exist
I have the opposite when I lean into hug my husband and my son. I must reach so high. It seems I’ll never get there but I always seem to make it. The hug is such a blessing when I get there. The warmth and calmness always overwhelms me that I can’t describe it.
Right now I’m thinking of the story of Goldilocks. I am looking for just the right match. The girl I am thinking about has thick, blonde hair (or for now brown). I am thinking of a girl that is just my height. The girl is strong-willed just like me. She has round cheeks just like me. She is from me. She is the fruit of my womb. I’m thinking of my beautiful daughter, Elizabeth.
Wow, I am so glad I thought of the wave in my hair today. I am so glad I have the wave in my hair as it makes me who I am. I am the product of my mother, the wife of my husband and the mother of two awesome children. Thank you God for the gift of my life. Happy Thanksgiving to God, and to all of the people of the world.
Talk to you again soon,
Eileen
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Words
I've been thinking this morning about words and the impact of words on my life. There are so many words in my day. The written word, the word of God, the spoken word, the words on a sign, the words in my head, and the list goes on and on. I've also been thinking how those words when used in different forms or by different people have different meanings. What is it that makes a word have meaning anyway?
I depend on words so much. I need them to feed my body and my soul. What would the grocery store be like without words? How would I know what was inside the can or the box on the shelf? How would I pass along my favorite recipes without writing them down so that the process is duplicated so the same outcome emerges every time? Seems the dependence on the word is what gives it the meaning.
That dependence is something of interest to me. How am I really dependent on the words? Do the words define me or do I define the words? If I define the words, than is it that we all have our own perception of what the words mean? If so, how is it that communication can truly be good if all are defining there own words?
Well, I now think I should turn to the dictionary for clarification of the definition of these words in my head and on this page, but even when I read the dictionary, I carry all the things in my life in my head when I read the meaning. Therefore the meaning for me is never exactly the same as the meaning for someone else that reads the exact same passage in the dictionary. Or is it?
It seems that a simple word, such as book, would be the same for all who read the definition, but is it really? Is the definition of a book the same for book writers as it is for those that read the book. Seems that the writer looks at books as a means for getting something out of their minds onto a page or a screen, but the reader looks at a book as something to take into the mind.
Just some words that have been moving around in my head today, and I had to get them out. Maybe all this will become a book someday! Wonder how that would impact my life.
Talk to you again soon,
Eileen
I depend on words so much. I need them to feed my body and my soul. What would the grocery store be like without words? How would I know what was inside the can or the box on the shelf? How would I pass along my favorite recipes without writing them down so that the process is duplicated so the same outcome emerges every time? Seems the dependence on the word is what gives it the meaning.
That dependence is something of interest to me. How am I really dependent on the words? Do the words define me or do I define the words? If I define the words, than is it that we all have our own perception of what the words mean? If so, how is it that communication can truly be good if all are defining there own words?
Well, I now think I should turn to the dictionary for clarification of the definition of these words in my head and on this page, but even when I read the dictionary, I carry all the things in my life in my head when I read the meaning. Therefore the meaning for me is never exactly the same as the meaning for someone else that reads the exact same passage in the dictionary. Or is it?
It seems that a simple word, such as book, would be the same for all who read the definition, but is it really? Is the definition of a book the same for book writers as it is for those that read the book. Seems that the writer looks at books as a means for getting something out of their minds onto a page or a screen, but the reader looks at a book as something to take into the mind.
Just some words that have been moving around in my head today, and I had to get them out. Maybe all this will become a book someday! Wonder how that would impact my life.
Talk to you again soon,
Eileen
Saturday, November 14, 2009
A Compliment
How many times a day do we compliment others? I am always telling someone their hair, outfit, their home, or mood are so pleasing to me. It comes so naturally to see the beauty in others and in the world around me. The struggle I have is in complimenting myself, or in accepting myself for who I am right at that moment. I need not worry that I used to be skinny or that I want to more prayerful. While my health and my prayer life are important, I should never not love myself just as I am at the very moment I am living. God loves and accepts me just as I am in that minute.
I am challenging myself to compliment myself every day for the wonderful woman that God has created. I will call to mind a characteristic that is special about me. Today I am wondering if it is my laugh. I have a really good one. When one of the kids or my husband touches my funny bone I just can't stop. My laugh is loud and it is infectious. Actually, I can really deliver a funny line too. Just ask my daughter. She loves my stories about my day and the people I encounter. I can always bring laughter to her. I guess today I will compliment myself on my sense of humor, and thank God for giving me the gift of joy.
I also challenge myself after accepting the compliment to say a prayer that I not hide the gift, and that I share it with others. I pray that I continue to look at myself not in comparison to others, but as an individual gift from God with special gifts and talents that are unique to me and not like the ones that others have.
I look forward to discovering another compliment tomorrow. I'll close by saying, "You look marvelous darling..."
Peace and talk to you again soon,
Eileen
I am challenging myself to compliment myself every day for the wonderful woman that God has created. I will call to mind a characteristic that is special about me. Today I am wondering if it is my laugh. I have a really good one. When one of the kids or my husband touches my funny bone I just can't stop. My laugh is loud and it is infectious. Actually, I can really deliver a funny line too. Just ask my daughter. She loves my stories about my day and the people I encounter. I can always bring laughter to her. I guess today I will compliment myself on my sense of humor, and thank God for giving me the gift of joy.
I also challenge myself after accepting the compliment to say a prayer that I not hide the gift, and that I share it with others. I pray that I continue to look at myself not in comparison to others, but as an individual gift from God with special gifts and talents that are unique to me and not like the ones that others have.
I look forward to discovering another compliment tomorrow. I'll close by saying, "You look marvelous darling..."
Peace and talk to you again soon,
Eileen
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Flower
I am sitting here thinking about every flower I’ve ever seen and the thought overwhelms me with the many colors I have experienced in my life. I am mostly thinking about the structure of a flower and how perfectly each is made. It makes me think about what type of flower I would be if I were a flower, or even what part of the flower I would be.
Would I be rose, a lily, a bird of paradise, a mum, a carnation, a daisy? Each of these flowers has a different character. The rose is so elegant and smells so sweet, but it is prone to disease and is easily beaten down by the rain. The lily is so beautiful, comes in so many colors with petals that open themselves up in a way that welcomes the world into there arms but the lily doesn’t last very long. The bird of paradise is so vibrant, has a strong stem, strives in a crowded spot, but only grows in a certain climate. The mum is so amazing. It is so consistent. It blooms so beautifully, but depends on us to remove the beautiful flowers from its crown immediately in order to provide a color show again. A carnation is not particularly beautiful, but it is dependable and allows itself to be filled with the colors of the world that are required at any given moment. The daisy is so beautiful, and withstands the test of time. The daisy has so many petals on each flower and the petals all look the same. Each petal is flat and the color is evenly distributed throughout each petal. The daisy is like the comfort food of flowers.
My mind now flows to the structure of a flower and the importance of each part. The roots are so important because the roots provide access to nutrients for the flower and are the basis for life for a flower. However, the stem is equally as important since it is the channel for the nutrients from the roots to be distributed to the entire flower. I think of the leaves as my hands extending themselves open to the Lord as I pray the Lord’s prayer every day. I mostly love the petals, or the color of the flower, as these to me are the true expression of its purpose in life.
I see the gifts I am given in the petals. The roots are required, because I always need food. The stem is required, as I always need the food to be delivered. I always need the leaves, because I always need to praise God through prayer. But I mostly see the petals or the color of a flower when I look at a flower. The petals are the fruit of life. Life can exist without the bloom because the plant will have purpose and will give off life without the bloom, but the bloom is required to add life to the flower.
The petals of a rose are most interesting to me, and the bloom of a bird of paradise never ceases to amaze me in its complexity and simplicity. Each component is expected, but always amazing. The blue stamen of bird of paradise is perfect. The blue takes my breath away each time I see it. It is so simple, but so complex. But I am mostly drawn to the perfection of the rose. Each rose petal has a gentleness to it that draws me in, but I can’t get to the petal unless I deal with the thorns of the rose stem. I am also entranced with the smell of a rose. It draws me in every time. The sweetness, the individuality, the perfection is so complete when I allow myself to walk past the roses in my yard without being distracted by the environment outside of the rose garden.
Again I am sitting here thinking of the flowers in my yard,and I am overwhelmed with the simple beauty of each petal that emerges as the day emerges and as I emerge into the woman I am to become. I like to think of myself as a blooming rose.
Talk to you again soon,
YSIC, Eileen
Would I be rose, a lily, a bird of paradise, a mum, a carnation, a daisy? Each of these flowers has a different character. The rose is so elegant and smells so sweet, but it is prone to disease and is easily beaten down by the rain. The lily is so beautiful, comes in so many colors with petals that open themselves up in a way that welcomes the world into there arms but the lily doesn’t last very long. The bird of paradise is so vibrant, has a strong stem, strives in a crowded spot, but only grows in a certain climate. The mum is so amazing. It is so consistent. It blooms so beautifully, but depends on us to remove the beautiful flowers from its crown immediately in order to provide a color show again. A carnation is not particularly beautiful, but it is dependable and allows itself to be filled with the colors of the world that are required at any given moment. The daisy is so beautiful, and withstands the test of time. The daisy has so many petals on each flower and the petals all look the same. Each petal is flat and the color is evenly distributed throughout each petal. The daisy is like the comfort food of flowers.
My mind now flows to the structure of a flower and the importance of each part. The roots are so important because the roots provide access to nutrients for the flower and are the basis for life for a flower. However, the stem is equally as important since it is the channel for the nutrients from the roots to be distributed to the entire flower. I think of the leaves as my hands extending themselves open to the Lord as I pray the Lord’s prayer every day. I mostly love the petals, or the color of the flower, as these to me are the true expression of its purpose in life.
I see the gifts I am given in the petals. The roots are required, because I always need food. The stem is required, as I always need the food to be delivered. I always need the leaves, because I always need to praise God through prayer. But I mostly see the petals or the color of a flower when I look at a flower. The petals are the fruit of life. Life can exist without the bloom because the plant will have purpose and will give off life without the bloom, but the bloom is required to add life to the flower.
The petals of a rose are most interesting to me, and the bloom of a bird of paradise never ceases to amaze me in its complexity and simplicity. Each component is expected, but always amazing. The blue stamen of bird of paradise is perfect. The blue takes my breath away each time I see it. It is so simple, but so complex. But I am mostly drawn to the perfection of the rose. Each rose petal has a gentleness to it that draws me in, but I can’t get to the petal unless I deal with the thorns of the rose stem. I am also entranced with the smell of a rose. It draws me in every time. The sweetness, the individuality, the perfection is so complete when I allow myself to walk past the roses in my yard without being distracted by the environment outside of the rose garden.
Again I am sitting here thinking of the flowers in my yard,and I am overwhelmed with the simple beauty of each petal that emerges as the day emerges and as I emerge into the woman I am to become. I like to think of myself as a blooming rose.
Talk to you again soon,
YSIC, Eileen
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Stress
Stress! It seems to consume me some times, and I wonder what makes it such an intense experience. I think if only it weren't so....[name it!], all would be OK. But is that really the answer? My life experience has proved otherwise. When [name it] happens it is not that it is happening that causes the stress, but how I respond to the [name it] that causes the stress. Holy acceptance of [name it] seems the real answer. I pray for that holy acceptance now. Peace and talk to you again soon,
Eileen
Eileen
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