I lived today and it felt so good. It always feels good to live my life. So many times I think I let the day go by without truly allowing myself to live it. I so many times am worried about what I am doing instead of just allowing myself to go through the minutes instead stalling and allowing that stall to stop me from being who I am supposed to be today.
What holds me back from living the day as I should? It seems it is the desire to control life instead of allowing it to just happen. I sometimes worry about things that might happen, but that never really happen. I try to interject my thoughts into the minute instead of letting the minute interject itself into me.
I so many times want to know the next minute instead of savoring the things that I never anticipated that have been so wonderful. So many times I never expect what is coming, and trying to control it would cause me to miss what has defined my life in such a positive way. It has defined my life in a way that I could have never imagined or anticipated.
What is it that makes me not want to allow the minutes to unfold as the minutes should? Isn’t it when control is absorbing me, that I don’t allow the real things in life to surprise me? I miss so many things when I don’t let the free will of life unfold.
The good things in life only happen when I allow myself to see the truth and gifts of other people’s lives to enter into mine. I so experience the best of life when the thoughts of yours enter into the thoughts of mine, when the moments of yours enter into the moments of mine, when the touch of your hand touches mine. I so need the interaction of people to have a good day, but so many times I try to control the actions of others through the actions I allow others to see and experience of me. Shouldn’t I really just allow myself to stop controlling and going through moments instead of around moments and enjoy the stops along the way?
Shouldn’t I allow myself to live the life that has been given to me today? I did today and it felt really good.
Talk to you again soon,
Eileen
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Friday, December 25, 2009
The Tree I Never Climbed
I look outside and see so many trees. Some are so small, but so twisted and unapproachable. Some are large, but seem to be nothing to be concerned about. My mind keeps wondering what it is about each of the trees that makes me describe it in that particular way.
What is it about the small tree that makes it unapproachable? It seems that my life has given me the gifts that I need to approach both of the trees with confidence, but the small one seems to always give me pause. The big one that seems to give so many others pause is the easy one for me.
That thought is so confusing to me. Certainly I can approach the day to day with such ease. What is it that makes me not want to approach the small tree? Is it the twisted branches? Is it the location of the tree? Is it the desire to stay with what is familiar?
I am comfortable approaching the big tree. I know the rules. I know what is expected. I can plan my day around the big tree. I can always approach it in the same manner and get the same result, and to many the big result is the important result. I am good at approaching the big tree. I like being good at something.
It seems though that my mind is always turning toward the small tree and its twisted branches. I want the challenge, but seem to be avoiding it. Why is that? It is so inviting and so interesting. It is all that is not familiar. It is so small. It requires attention to great detail to truly understand it. The detail is what makes it different from the big tree.
When I look at the big tree I can only see the tree not the branches or the roots or the leaves. I can’t get close enough to it to truly become interested in the details. I can only see the big project, not the people that make up the project.
How do I get caught in the forest and not see the trees? Isn’t it that people are always chastised for not being able to see the forest for seeing the trees? It seems that seeing the trees is the real purpose.
I guess I just climbed the tree I never wanted to climbed before.
Peace and talk to you again soon,
Eileen
What is it about the small tree that makes it unapproachable? It seems that my life has given me the gifts that I need to approach both of the trees with confidence, but the small one seems to always give me pause. The big one that seems to give so many others pause is the easy one for me.
That thought is so confusing to me. Certainly I can approach the day to day with such ease. What is it that makes me not want to approach the small tree? Is it the twisted branches? Is it the location of the tree? Is it the desire to stay with what is familiar?
I am comfortable approaching the big tree. I know the rules. I know what is expected. I can plan my day around the big tree. I can always approach it in the same manner and get the same result, and to many the big result is the important result. I am good at approaching the big tree. I like being good at something.
It seems though that my mind is always turning toward the small tree and its twisted branches. I want the challenge, but seem to be avoiding it. Why is that? It is so inviting and so interesting. It is all that is not familiar. It is so small. It requires attention to great detail to truly understand it. The detail is what makes it different from the big tree.
When I look at the big tree I can only see the tree not the branches or the roots or the leaves. I can’t get close enough to it to truly become interested in the details. I can only see the big project, not the people that make up the project.
How do I get caught in the forest and not see the trees? Isn’t it that people are always chastised for not being able to see the forest for seeing the trees? It seems that seeing the trees is the real purpose.
I guess I just climbed the tree I never wanted to climbed before.
Peace and talk to you again soon,
Eileen
Saturday, December 5, 2009
My Angel
I have so many decisions to make in life and sometimes the decision itself seems to take on a life of its own. It seems to dominate the day rather than letting the life I have dominate the day. I seem to think that I have to do it all alone. That I am alone. I know that not to be true in my intellect, but sometimes my heart doesn't believe the truth that exists. I know that I have a husband, children, mother and other family that are there for me in my life. However, I keep thinking of the times when I am struggling on the interior and don't share the struggle with the world.
Who is there for me in those moments to make sure I'm not alone? Today, I am overwhelmed with the answer. The obvious answer is God, and I know that He is always there, but today I seem to most certainly feel the prescense of my guardian angel. How often do I think of my guardian angel? Not very often it seems, but when I do I feel so protected and at peace. Why don't I reflect on this more often? It seems that I should.
I long ago named my guardian angel, but have forgotten the name as I seem to keep this part of my existance tucked away in my mind. I think I will again name my guardian angel. His name shall be Peter. I think of this name, because I think of Peter as a rock, as the foundation of the church. I know that each of us has a piece of the church inside and needs the strength of Peter to keep moving in the right direction. The path to holiness is through accepting the rocks in my life and in allowing the rock of my heart to be molded and chipped into the perfection of myself that God wants for me.
God so lovingly created an angel just to watch over me. I will begin to pray for my angel in thanksgiving for all the quiet service provided during the years of my life. I pray that my decision to open my heart again to the guardian angel in my life takes on a life of its own. I pray that the love of my guardian angel dominates my thoughts today so that I never forget to thank God for my guardian angel and live my life knowing that God is there for me in ways that I don't even know or remember. I pray the stone of my life is open to His call and His love.
Thank you God for another birthday and another day to be in communion with you and my guardian angel.
Peace and talk to you again soon,
Eileen
Who is there for me in those moments to make sure I'm not alone? Today, I am overwhelmed with the answer. The obvious answer is God, and I know that He is always there, but today I seem to most certainly feel the prescense of my guardian angel. How often do I think of my guardian angel? Not very often it seems, but when I do I feel so protected and at peace. Why don't I reflect on this more often? It seems that I should.
I long ago named my guardian angel, but have forgotten the name as I seem to keep this part of my existance tucked away in my mind. I think I will again name my guardian angel. His name shall be Peter. I think of this name, because I think of Peter as a rock, as the foundation of the church. I know that each of us has a piece of the church inside and needs the strength of Peter to keep moving in the right direction. The path to holiness is through accepting the rocks in my life and in allowing the rock of my heart to be molded and chipped into the perfection of myself that God wants for me.
God so lovingly created an angel just to watch over me. I will begin to pray for my angel in thanksgiving for all the quiet service provided during the years of my life. I pray that my decision to open my heart again to the guardian angel in my life takes on a life of its own. I pray that the love of my guardian angel dominates my thoughts today so that I never forget to thank God for my guardian angel and live my life knowing that God is there for me in ways that I don't even know or remember. I pray the stone of my life is open to His call and His love.
Thank you God for another birthday and another day to be in communion with you and my guardian angel.
Peace and talk to you again soon,
Eileen
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Ornaments
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
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
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
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