In the now...

By Karen Dums

Once upon a time I was a  young girl, young, not at all wild, not at all free.
Once upon a time I was a young girl, who longed all those things to be.
Now I am an old girl, the clock has ticked on by;
And what do you know? It happened, at last I can fly!
Why was I frightened those long years ago?
What held me back from being part of the flow?
Perhaps that was it, I danced a different tune.
Stepped to a different drummer, became "old" too soon.
Oddly enough I am happier this day 
Numbers don't matter, don't hold any sway.
I'll do what I do. I'll be what I am.
If others don't like it...well I won't give a damn.
I'll keep my own counsel. Keep my own ear.
Life's oh so much better living it "right here".

Odd it took me 50-plus years to begin living in the now. My late mother always suggested that I just let myself "be". I didn't understand her then. I understand her now. Beset by worry I held myself back from activities I enjoyed. Whatif, whatif, whatif!!! Let fear keep it's grip lest the world turn to ice ala Elsa in the movie "Frozen". Stayed stuck on the ground when the air was where I wanted to rise.

So I started late. At least I started. Self-exposure is not something I do well (out of the gutter please). Little glimpses are about all anyone is likely to get from me.

But cliche' aside (you know the one, life's a gift, that's why we call it the present) living in the present tense is not such a bad thing. One can get accustomed to letting the past go, looking forward to the future with something akin to hope, if not hope itself. Being spontaneous, spur of the moment. Fun. Even if we are the only ones who actually get the joke.

I'm not suggesting we cast aside all reason -- that would be pure chaos for me at least -- but flying by the seats of our pants once in a while can be a good thing. It takes us out of the rut. The box. The little corner we've painted ourselves into.

To hell with the paint, it can get smeared for all I care. I'm writing myself out of that corner at last. Pen in hand I'm going to give myself a shot by living completely in the now.
  

Open then close

By Karen Dums

We knock at the door of Christmas, hanging wreaths, decorating cookies, wrapping gifts. It's a whirlwind of activity for many. We can get tangled in our own tinsel, trip on the extensions cords running hither and yon, fall into the trap of too much.

Peace on Earth? Not in the checkout line at WalMart.

Good will to all? Not when three people want the last toy on the shelf. THE last toy of its kind. That's more "its every man for himself".

Wow.

For those of us who profess to be Christians there is the added aspect of the Advent season itself -- celebrating the birth of our Savior even as we await the time of His coming again. A foot in each of two separate worlds?

No wonder the season fills the most hardy souls amongst us with dread and probably fills psychiatric offices with patients new and old! We get caught up. Too caught up?

Isn't it more a time when we should be filled with joy? With wonder? With awe? Or can't we, at the very least, slow down, take time to reflect a bit? After all the window behind us is soon closing on another year while the window in front of us is opening to yet another.

As someone who loves all aspects of the written word, including writing itself, I always cast the new year in the role of a blank page. What will we write on it? What will be written on it for us? Its a piece of history, both personal and otherwise.

The bells of Christmas will hardly cease pealing when the bells ushering in a new year will begin chiming. Let's be awake for them. Let's be active participants on the next page of life.
What'cha think?  Let's dive through that open window head first.