Tears from Heaven

At my desk, in front of the big picture window, I watched my tears fall from the Heavens and soak the dozens of small birds that filled the trees and ate at my feeders.




Small flecks of movement, tiny Pygmy Nuthatches, darting on the trunks and branches while starlings and grosbeak pecked and flapped their wings at each other and fought for the day's portion of seeds.


Grey skies and a grey heart. I denied myself what isn't mine to have and the warm feeling of sadness soaked into my soul. The loneliness threatened to overpower my self-esteem and the threads of maturity that are weaving their way into my character.


I can't always have what I want, even if it is handed to me, because it isn't always right. Will saying no bring something better my way? Who knows, it doesn't really matter...I have my respect, and so yes, it is already better.


As the sky began to clear, so did I. Sadness relieved by a sense of empowerment. The loneliness, it persists, but the days are filled with passion this new found love that I've found for myself.


The sun is out now and the sky is blue. The pain always leads to sunshine.

Where I've been and where I'm going

Wow! After an intense six months I'm breathing in some relief. It took a few minutes to ratchet down and to get some sleep before realizing that I've just completed a course at one college and a full load at another college. After more than ten years away from school and everything that my mind and body went through during that time, this feels like an accomplishment.


So much has happened - so much bridge under the water - and so much to learn from. Guess some of us are tougher to crack than others are and that I needed some pretty hard lessons to get here, and so that is okay. Though it wasn't at the time. It just seemed like I never had a chance, almost from birth, to be happy and that was the way it was supposed to be. Now I know that wasn't true and that it wasn't circumstances that held me back but fear, being stubborn and defeating myself. It was up to me to find the path and to stay on it, whether that was towards happiness, being a better person, being a better photographer or whatever. I'm the one who took myself off the road and put my future on the sidelines.


With a better understanding and the ability to accept responsibility came a whole new perspective on life. Happiness, freedom and fun that I never knew existed. Not that everything is rosy but that the good stuff far out ways the negative. We are supposed to laugh, cry and love - those are not weakness, they are assets. I don't know who I'll be doing those things with, or if I'll be doing it alone, it only matters that I do them on a daily basis.


When I'm feeling drawn back into the negative, I scratch and claw to bring myself back out into the light. Sometimes the clawing is slow and sometimes it is quick. I much prefer the smile... Too bad, though, that we never reach that level of perfection where we always do everything correctly. Too bad we slip back into old ways and habits...but that too is part of being human.




And so, I'm learning about how to be a better human. I'm learning about myself and the world around me. Truthfully, I don't know the end, only that the journey is ahead and that I'm putting one foot in front of the other.

North Idaho

Some recent photos and thoughts of my continuing North Idaho experience.

Green eyed cat in the neighborhood

A bird sitting in a dogwood tree, in the neighborhood along the dog walking route.

A small waterfall down the lake aways, up the stream from Beauty Bay.

Fishing mishap on Fernan Lake, a mile down the road from the neighborhood.

Further away, at the opposite end of the lake, a male Osprey enjoys his catch while his woman squawks at two female photographers who got too close to the nest.

Even though I was born in Spokane, WA, I've always considered North Idaho my home because it is in the heart of everything that is enjoyable in nature.  We spent summers on Lake Coeur d'Alene and winters skiing on Schweitzer mountain, when we were children.  I met my husbands in Idaho - my children were born here...and part of my heart belongs to the town of yesterday when it was small and quaint.  When Coeur d'Alene was itself, before people tried to make it into some plastic tourist town that it doesn't fit into.  I could go on about that but it wouldn't do any good.

North Idaho and I have our differences in politics and lifestyle.  I very much believe in the fair and equal treatment of all humans.  Somehow I escaped the historically prejudiced nature of the area.  Idaho is a red state and I am blue.  I believe that the information that is passed on through the news is one sided and too few people get, or seek out, the whole story.  I am not a hunter, a sports fan or a four-wheeler.  However, I do love the outdoors and believe in being gentle with nature and the environment.

Despite our differences, I love North Idaho for its beauty and for the heart of many of its residents.  No where else that I've been do people simply go outside when the lights of Spring come on.  We grow up with an appreciation for the out-of-doors.  It is a fairly simple lifestyle, no heavy traffic, the shopping is basic, the town small and there are large spaces of wilderness.

Imagine being able to walk your dog in a quiet neighborhood where people nod, wave and say hi.  Hopping on the bicycle and taking a spin on a well-groomed, paved cycling path that will take you several miles in many directions.  Walking to the beach to take a swim or to read in the sunshine.  Driving only seven miles to photograph eagles in the winter.  A short drive to Washington and a slightly longer drive to Montana...and not that far from Canada!  Mountains, meadows, lakes, rivers, streams, farmland, forest - there is room to spread your wings and fly. 

I don't know what it is that I'm trying to say, exactly.  Except that, my first year back in Idaho, after a 25 year absence, was a tough one.  It brought me back to the place where I made my worst mistakes and decisions and once here I made more bad decisions.  I needed to grow up and home was where I needed to be in order to accomplish that.  Through that year, my eyes slowly re-opened to the beauty and the easy lifestyle but I found it nearly impossible to photograph.  When there is darkness in one's soul, it is difficult to see the light.  

Now, while I'd still like to travel to different places to take photographs, I can't imagine my life anywhere else.  And, as for my immediate surroundings, the light has become clearer with the shedding of the darkness from my life.  Around every corner is something interesting and/or beautiful to shoot with my Nikon cameras.  And everyday is an exploration into that which makes my heart soar with happiness and enables me to be a part of society.

It is strange how returning to the place that I feared the most, has been the exact location where the wounds were finally able to begin their healing.  I am at home in my heart and in my location.

Life is Good!

Probably never thought you'd hear this eternally sad and pessimistic person say that! Last year was awful and the fallout will continue for a long time, maybe a lifetime, but I am not the same person who stepped into 2009, thinking that life was a fairy tale. It was a fantasy, just not the positive kind that either of those descriptions conote.

Last year was devastating but it was the best teacher I've ever had. Out of the hard times came more blessings than I could have ever dreamed of. From much experience of hard times, I knew that something good would come out of it all and was able to keep some small thread of that faith during most of the time. Actually, the entire time, for if I had completely given it up, I would have destroyed myself. I would've given up. Thankfully I kept walking forward, even if they were in little baby steps. And, thankfully there were at least a couple of people who were willing to support me through it all because I couldn't have done it without them.

So, enough of last year, not that it won't be referred to again or that there aren't lingering hard feelings towards a few, but I'm different. Out of adversity grew a much stronger, more grateful and happier person. No longer am I so fearful that it is impossible to look past myself and the way that I treat other people. I am learning, though not perfectly, to care less about what they think of me, or how they treat me, but at how I treat them. In other words I am more focused on my behavior and not that of other people. I said more, because there is no perfection, only striving to live in grace, love, forgiveness and dignity.

Most importantly, the pity party is over and most of the defensiveness is gone. I am so grateful for the blessings in my life that it is difficult to even articulate the feelings. So much good going on and so I strive to be worthy of it all. And, it is so much easier to own my mess-ups and to be willing to do better the next time. I am human and humans make mistakes. Evolved, honest, caring and loving people own those mistakes and don't try to make excuses for them. It is getting easier to forgive myself.

I know that I'm old and should have known these things at a much younger age, but that isn't the way things went for me. Such is history. It is past and all there is is today. I celebrate today. There are concerns, troubles and issues going on in my life, as in anybody's, but I don't have to look hard to see someone who has it worse than myself and that makes me grateful. And it feels good to care about them. But when people ask, and really want to know, how my life is going these days, there is no hesitation when I tell them it is really good. I'm happy - a bit scared of failing, but mostly delighted to be living and learning. It is great to have some place to be at a certain time and to have my mind stimulated into action. My brain had been asleep for a long time and I thought that the deadening of my mind was age but it was lack of use. Yes, I am happy.

The Ramblings of a Tortured Mother/Grandmother

One day I'm rolling along fine and in complete acceptance for the way things are in my life when, suddenly, a deep and powerless sadness takes hold and I forget everything that is good.

Nothing remarkable happens before the sadness comes upon me, it just arrives. I find myself filled with a deep longing to know my son and to be a part of his life - that feeling is always there but doesn't constantly run my life - and despair sets in. For a long time I simply felt guilty and worthless - as if his rejection of me, his calling me a despicable person made me less than scum - but eventually I came to understand that his actions, thoughts and feelings are coming from things inside of him and have nothing to do with me as a human. The day came when I had to forgive myself for the mistakes I've made in order to free myself to live again. That doesn't mean that there aren't regrets, or that I don't wish it were possible to do it all over again, but that I am an imperfect human being who has made, does make, mistakes and who gets to learn from them. I don't get to spend the rest of my life beating myself up and punishing me because, if I were to do that, there would be no way to be the person the universe meant for me to be. Punishing myself is like playing God and I don't want to do that anymore. I want to live my life as free of judgment and remorse as is possible and, instead, live in forgiveness and in each moment of the day.

But then there are those days when the feelings of longing and powerlessness overwhelm me and I don't know where to put them. I feel sad and lonely and my arms ache to wrap around him and my grandchildren. Those old familiar feelings of wanting to be a part of a real family come back to the surface and I indulge in a little self-pity about why it is that some people get that while others don't. I get caught up in how can a person want something so badly but only get small little tidbits over the course of 50 plus years. I wasn't one of the lucky ones who grew up with a loving family and so I sought that out in men with seemingly good relationships with their parents, thinking that they would embrace me and love me also. But, when the mothers didn't like me, it was all just more rejection and feelings of worthlessness. And so I ran and ran, and tried to cover up hurt feelings with the tough exterior. I had no problem solving skills when it came to relationships, only the ability to escape and so that is what I did.

Out of my grief and loneliness during the more than 20 years that I've lived alone, I've discovered passions, which have made it possible to keep me moving forward but never the self-worth to follow them through. Always, I thought that if someone just loved me, then it would be okay. But I couldn't love myself. I've let fear and insecurity beat me every time. I've perpetuated the low self-esteem issues by making bad decisions, almost on purpose and as a way to punish myself, and have watched things get worse and worse. I've ignored my problems, instead of dealing with each one when it arose, and thus have made situations impossible to repair. Too much time passed and too little said. At the time, letting go and standing back, seemed like the right thing to do. I didn't trust myself to not create more hurt and damage and so I withdrew, which caused more hurt and damage. I lacked the skills and never has there been anyone to guide me through. Even today there is no best friend that I can call, chit chat with and ask their advice. I don't even know what girl talk about men looks like. I can't even tell when a man is flirting with me. I was 43 before knowing that you are supposed to cut the cuticles out of your nails. No one told me and I didn't know to ask. Pretty sad for an otherwise intelligent person - too ignorant to ask or to go find out. Too stubborn to seek help. I didn't know what I didn't know.

In the intervening years I've had a lot of physical trauma to match the emotional crap and have continued to lose more and more. I seek to resurface, to rekindle my passion for life, but there are days when my soul is just too tired and I wonder why keep trying if the things that my heart desires are never going to come. I'm tired. My heart aches. I'm lonely. I let other people's opinion of me, or their withdrawal, or refusal to acknowledge me, run my days. It is easy for someone to push my buttons with their silent disapproval - even if, in reality, I know that it is their lack of approval for them. I struggle and want something better.

I want to wrap my arms around my son and his children. I want my heart to sing and I want to quit failing. I want to not care if someone doesn't like my picture or what I say. I want to be true to me and to walk with confidence. Today it is a bit hard but what I do know is that tomorrow, or soon, it won't be so bad and I will breathe and smile again.

My Photos are now For Sale

For Friends

I've downloaded several of my photos to this site and listed them for sale as greeting cards, prints and canvas, and in different sizes where applicable.

Enjoy the slideshow!

And check out my "Flickr Site":http://www.flickr.com/photos/seasideshooter/ for any other photos that you might be interested and I'll add them for sale.

"Life is daily progress and I'm making mine." DD

Sensitivity Level Skyrockets

The dog is jerking and whimpering in his sleep and I can only imagine what his dreams consist of - a life lived before he became mine a year ago.

I'm one of those people who should never get sick because when that happens my sensitivity level goes through the roof. Note to self: DO NOT KISS BOYS WITH COLDS!!! I toss and tumble in my own sleep and awaken drenched in sweat, with a headache that clutches at the back of my neck, all of which is a good sign for me to pull the covers up until it passes. But, no, I wait until the worst is gone and then head to Montana, to follow the story. And then come home to shoot people who are tasting wine, only to discover that my face is white as a sheet and I'm feeling vulnerable to loneliness. No wonder those nice people didn't mind if I took their photo, they probably thought I'd keel over dead before getting home to the computer!

It has been a while now since I've eaten and my stomach says it is hungry. But there is no milk to scramble in the eggs and I don't want to go to the store!!!! I want to stay in my PJ's and hide from the world. And so my stomach grumbles and my mind thinks way too much.

It is time to remember that I'm one of "those" people, which doesn't make me bad, but means that I dance to a different drummer. I try to dull my senses by playing mindless free games on Facebook but the brain doesn't shut up. Why would any intelligent woman believe a man who tells her that she is no good? Why would she even date such a slug? And why would she give credit to anything he says? Happy people don't demean others. People who feel good about themselves and the world, don't make up stories about others in order to save face for themselves. Healthy people admit their mistakes and move forward without taking others down. All of that is well and good unless it happens to me and then I forget the truth.

Is it normal for women to seek the approval of men in order to solidify their self-worth? Or is this just a product of growing up with a daddy who tells you that you are worthless? Approval is nice, validation of a job well-done is great and certainly motivates one to do even better, but none of that is necessary for happiness. I think people withhold compliments because they are jealous or mean. I see it as another form of abuse and control - how far will she go to seek my approval sort of thing. As they watch you dance like cranes in the middle of a farmer's field during mating season. How high can I jump, how much can I flap my wings before you will notice that I've just done an outstanding job? Some people will never acknowledge a job well done and the truth is that it says more about them then it does about you. The trick is to know for yourself, how well you've done. How did I go from writing in first person to third?

The other thing that rolls over in the ongoing drama of my mind is to wonder what it must feel like to live with knowing that you've told a lie about someone and caused real damage in their life. It must be awful, particularly when you see the person from time to time, or even daily. I am trying to drum up some empathy and understanding but the truth is that I just don't know what it feels like to ruin a person's reputation by slandering them. I've done it, but it was so long ago that I just can't remember what it was like. Maybe I thought that the means justified the end, or however that goes, which of course they don't. Today I can't imagine making up a story about someone, even if they've been doing it to me. I just can't imagine what it must feel like to purposefully set out to ruin another person with their peers - to slander them over and over again.

Here is the definition of slander: slan·der (slndr)

n.

1. Law Oral communication of false statements injurious to a person's reputation.

2. A false and malicious statement or report about someone.

The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition copyright ©2000 by Houghton Mifflin Company. Updated in 2009. Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.

n slander [ˈslaːndə]
(the act of making) an untrue spoken, not written, statement about a person with the intention of damaging that person's reputation That story about her is nothing but a wicked slander!

It is hard to believe that I've put up with this for so long and haven't taken legal action against it. As the damage that has been done to my life becomes clearer and clearer, I consider taking care of myself in other ways. Had this behavior stopped by now, I would be moving on with my life but it continues. Sure, these aren't well people but they are causing my reputation and standing in the community a lot of harm.

One of the reasons this has come up right now, besides this woman who has apologized a gazillion times and still warns all men to stay away from me by telling them stories that aren't true, is something that happened just the other day.

I was visiting with a friend inside of a local coffee shop when someone that I hadn't seen in awhile came in. I noticed him looking my way and so smiled and waved but was greeted with this horrible look. I was confused - dumbfounded. His wife and I had been friends until this group of ladies warned her to stay away from me by telling untrue stories but it never occurred to me that her intelligent husband would believe the opposite of what he'd seen from me. I know, stupid, naive me. When it happened, this whole thing hurt beyond belief but I knew in my heart that I'd done nothing wrong and so continued on with my life in the exact way as before meeting her. There was no reason to do anything differently. Yes, it has been weird, uncomfortable, confusing and heartbreaking, but what can you do when it isn't true? I thought of this again this morning because they walked by my house earlier and she just looked so uncomfortable. I guess that we've both been uncomfortable but mine hasn't been because of a lie - just a not knowing why. And then, finally, someone told me what was said and it was so far beyond anything that I've ever done that it set me free. People are free to say whatever they want but when it hurts a reputation and standing in the community, it is slander and there are remedies for this.

I'm tired of this whole mess and want to move forward and live my life in peace. Most days it is all okay and I just hold my head up and smile. But then I get sick and the little worm starts wiggling in my brain and I need to get it out.

I just went outside and put the dog's stuffed animals and cedar bed under the gazebo where they can't get wet from the rain and he didn't even bother to get up and come to the door. Must've heard the raindrops falling!

"where there is hatred, let me show love"

I don't understand hatred and evil very much. As a friend pointed out, it is almost as if I possess a child-like naiveté that believes in goodness and fairness, despite my experiences. I see good and hope and when the opposite happens, I am slow to catch up with the reality.

Perhaps I will get wiser and more cynical as time goes on and I gain more self-confidence - grow up - and maybe it will never happen. I want to take better care of myself and to quit getting into situations that nearly get me killed, but don't want to be cynical. My hard, bitter edge was about not trusting myself and if I didn't let you in, then no hurt could come about. But the edge is softening and I now know, without a doubt, that my heart can love.

I have no problem with feeling love for friends, or for acquaintances as I watch their struggles and their growth, and really enjoy the feeling of looking at someone with that kind of affection. I love the feeling of loving my son without condition, whether he knows how to accept it or not. And, I've felt that heart love but know that it isn't for me. Not that I don't want it or can't have it but because I want something else much more and the two don't mix. A sadness but an awareness and admission of who I truly am. There will probably be more about this later but this writing is about loving despite...

My main difficulties still center around what other people think about me. It is easy to be logical about this problem and know that what they think about me is what they think about themselves - that it is their problem and not mine - that it is none of my business what they think - and all of those things that I know to be true. But it is quite a different thing, and a real journey, to get to a point where they help my healing and moving on process. My son can snap at me and it turns my day upside down, someone can walk out on me and slam the door, or shut it hard, and my head tries to go to the place where I'm a piece of shit. These things bother me and it isn't about me, it is about them.

And so I search myself to discover why these reactions occur and eventually realize that I'm putting my self-worth into the hands of people who really aren't all that nice (my son excluded). I want them to love me when they don't love themselves. My immediate reaction is to shut down to them, turn cold and distant and to judge them for being judgmental assholes. But what I keep coming to during these soul searching times, is that nothing matters except how I treat them.

For me, walking a spiritual path is about giving love, even when it doesn't seem warranted. Love is about accepting people for who they are and about cheering them on from the sidelines as they go through their struggle to overcome their demons. I don't have to be in the middle of their life to love them, I just need to accept them how they are. I need to have my eyes open wide enough to see when they come to the other side of a hard time and their life changes, instead of keeping their old selves alive in my mind and holding things against them. There are some that I have disliked intensely, and with good reason, but have watched them change and grow and I've been able to forgive them. This doesn't mean giving my heart over to them but it is more about being willing to continue watching their path and, perhaps, slowly being a part of their life.

And, everyone makes mistakes - there are no perfect people. To not forgive mistakes is to not allow people to be human.

So, for me, it all comes down to love, even when there is hatred. And there are a few that I don't care for and maybe never will again. That depends on them. My heart is open to the possibilities of others, like myself, who have come to a point of knowing the harm that they've caused and made a decision to be responsible and apologetic, and to begin walking a new path of kindness and love. The thing for me is to accept them for who they are because I can't change them. I am writing about people who have caused harm, not people who just rub me the wrong way but have never harmed me. People don't harm me by having a strange personality or by believing in different things than I do - they are entitled to be who they are.

I am doing my best to remove myself from the lives of judgmental people. I can't have that type of energy close to me. If someone thinks that they could've done my life better and that they wouldn't have reacted to my experiences in the same way, good for them. I have seen a lot more of real life than many have and much of it hasn't been pretty. My start in the world was not good, from day one. If anyone thinks that it is okay to judge me and to share their assessment with others, tainting their opinion before they even know me, then I don't need them in my life. I don't need people around me who sit around and gossip and judge. I can accept that that is who they are, and still treat them in a kind manner, without condoning and being apart of behavior that devalues others.

That is where I am - doing my best to not gossip. I don't talk about the people who are judging me, except to one very close friend and confidant, because it is not my job to dictate how someone else views that person. It is my job to show love, kindness and tolerance. I'm not perfect, not even close, but have discovered that the better I feel about myself, the easier it is to be the person the universe meant for me to be. None of this means that I have to be a door mat and allow people to harm me, in fact, it means that it is my responsibility to stand up for myself and take whatever steps are necessary to protect myself.

And, for the heart love, I am glad to know that it can find its way into my heart and am equally as relieved to know that, because of the passions that burn inside, it isn't for me. There is sadness but the relief is that now my focus can be where it needs to be.

It all Tumbles Down

I had the strangest epiphany last night that at last everything will be okay. Not that I won't ever have struggles or disappointments again but that my depressive and poor me days are over with. And, that now I can take care of myself and no longer do I need to allow people to walk all over me. I also don't have to stand by while they attempt to ruin my life because their poor ego was hurt.

I am not responsible for the actions that other people take, the decisions that they make and the way that they live their lives. Some folks are good at playing the poor me, I'm such a victim game - they know the exact way to set up the delivery of their tales of woe and who to take them to. And people buy that crap and repeat the stories as if they were fact! I'd say that could be described as some mighty sick folk!

A man becomes his own worst enemy but he can not take responsibility for that because he is an intelligent and educated person and so he must blame someone else. There is a whole group of women who are jealous over this person and so they are the perfect ones to draw into his confidence. He only needs to start the story and the next thing you know, he is sitting back and watching the damage unfold but seemingly has nothing to do with it. In the meantime, in the dark quiet of some room he has made for himself, he follows through on his threats but nobody knows. A year passes by and he has moved on with his life, something that he did in very short order, but his anger still bubbles close to the surface. The object of his agony has worked hard to put her life back together and has come out of the ordeal a different and more healthy person. She smiles and jokes now. She has found a person inside of her that she likes and that many others do also. This does not set well with him and he must work harder to destroy her. How dare she go on with her life, like he has done with his. How dare her! How dare she be happy and earn the friendship and respect of all of these people that he sought to sever her from? Life is so unfair, still, to this individual.

Of course, he still has his little spies who let him know that she isn't suffering nearly enough. And, of course, they don't know the whole story - only his side - and we all know just how honest people can be during break-ups! Every once in awhile these messengers tell her that they want to know her side and she thinks that maybe she will tell them. And then she realizes that none of it was their business in the first place and if he wants to spin his tales, that is his business, but she doesn't have to do anything but live her own life.

His actions against her do make her life a little harder and she does get bitter from time to time, wondering when it will stop. And then she realizes that it won't stop until she stops it. Until she quits being a part of it. Until she quits letting someone else's actions ruin her day and the way that she treats the people that she loves. Her friends don't know what she is going through because she is selective about who she talks to, not wanting to spread gossip the way that he has. They can know that something is hard but they don't need the details and she doesn't need to shut them out because of the hurt inside of her. During this quest for renewal, she has discovered that there are many more wonderful people than there are nasty people who are unhappy in their lives and who have to try to destroy others.

At the end of a hard day, she puts her head down and realizes that she hadn't had to frown and be miserable over this newest hitch. She realized that the smile that she'd kept hidden away during her whole life was now a permanent part of her and that no one and no situation could take it away. She realized that now she would be okay. Still there were things that she needed to do, like taking herself out of dangerous situations where people are feeding the gossip tube, and so she would do so. Just recently, one of these people were asked to give her a message, which, instead of doing so, she filled them with the "facts" of her previous relationship - as she saw them or as she made them up. She wasn't there and could not have any firsthand knowledge, only the tales of a poor, hapless victim who is still crying about a childhood that was over much longer ago than she has been alive.

The woman, the horrorship of this man's life, has moved on and grown from the adversity. In the back of her mind she knows that there is still one threat out there, that he has not yet followed through with - the ultimate retribution - but she can only live today as if it were the best ever. She no longer has to live in fear and shame. She has taken back her power and it is another good day in the neighborhood.

An Old Soul

I'm coming to terms with the reality of my lack of popularity. All of my life I'd yearned to be one of those people that everyone likes and have agonized over the delusion that somehow it was possible to tweak my personality to make it so, rather than to accept it as my path in life.

Lately, while keeping a positive, upbeat attitude, I've watched the way people react to me and have noticed that one day they love me and the next they can't stand me. In my heart I will know that there was nothing that I did to the individual but would still spend too much time letting the whys eat me up. There isn't a lot of middle ground when it comes to me and others - either love or hate with very little room for accepting me as a human being who is truly doing the best that they can. During the midst of my observation, the truth suddenly fell upon me like a warm blanket - I am one of those people that rub others the wrong way and it has nothing to do with anything that I've done to them. The second truth was that there wasn't anything I can do about the way that others react to me.

And so I've begun the journey of accepting and embracing myself for who I am, rather than to fight it. Unpopularity is a hard pill to swallow and even harder to welcome but it is more difficult to constantly be on guard and trying to change my essence. My new mantra is "I yam what I yam so get over it." Instinct tells me that if I learn to be comfortable with myself, then people will not get as much charge out of tearing me apart. They might still hate me but it won't be as much fun to gossip about if I don't care what they think. Of course, part of me will always have hurt feelings but the truth is that I care more about my integrity then my popularity and that would encompass being true to me, what I believe and how I treat the rest of the world. I'll never do any of it perfectly but have always been traveling along this road.

Any who, in the midst of trying to come to terms with reality, I remembered that many people have called me an old soul. Every time someone would say this, and it has been going on for years, I would know that they were telling the truth and take it as a compliment. I mean, really, doesn't it sound romantic to be an old soul? The point is that I never looked up the term, but then maybe Google wasn't so handy. So I googled and found myself.

After reading many sites that describe the characteristics of an old soul, something similar to this list comes up time and again:

"The key signs of an old soul

· Giving and caring often putting others first

· Had a difficult romantic life often with much pain and disappointment

· More than likely had a soulmate relationship

· Things just seem to happen to you and around you, often becoming very dramatic through the seemingly extreme reactions of others

· Events repeat themselves

· Have trouble connecting with your family

· Somehow know you're different

· Have some psychic intuition and 'just knowing' things

· Find that you have deeper emotions and passions than most people

· People have extreme reactions to you - some just adore you and some seem to really dislike you yet you behave the same to everyone

· Have an inner creative passion

· Suffer lots of jealousy

· Often perceived wrongly

· Feel you don't have much free will, like your life is being controlled by some outside force

· Often feel 'stuck' like events just keep on happening to you time after time

All of us can relate to some of these characteristics and events at some time in our lives however the 'old souls' amongst us will shout "Yes that's me !"
and immediately understand and relate.

In contrast, we have all met the 'young souls' the ones who profess to be giving and caring and often seem to seek us out, but who never really give, just take, and who then commit the most insensitive and often cruel acts but seem to have no understanding of what they've done or any sign of remorse whatsoever. In fact they can often go to such extremes to get very aggressive when we point out their actions and the effect that they've had on us.."

Old Souls tend to have their own, undefinable spiritual path that others don't get. One article mentioned that an Old Soul might find their spirituality in a grove of trees - whoa! That is exactly where I went, to a large strand of aspen trees, in my big moment of need. Freaky! I have strong feelings about fairness to everyone and about honesty in dealing with others. Yet, I've had a difficult time with telling myself the truth about my feelings, getting too caught up in shoulds and shouldn'ts instead of what is. Embracing these things about myself is being honest with me. People have told me that it seems like I can see right through their exterior and into their souls and that it is unnerving. What they don't stick around to see is my lack of judgement for their experiences. Yet I judge dishonesty (facts dishonesty) harshly.

Oh, what am I saying anyway?! Just after I began this new journey, a good friend asked about why some people love me while others despise me. Ironic how we were both trying to understand and come to terms with the same thing. Most people would not be able to give an honest answer for why they hate me, or honestly tell that I've actually done something harmful to them. They might make up stories about why they hate me but that is all that they are, tales to justify something they probably don't understand.

So, today my journey is about moving forward and being comfortable with myself. I'm not sure where I'm going but will just put one foot in front of the other and continue walking. Apparently my inner success has nothing to do with what others think of me but what I think of myself. And I know for a fact that I don't get up in the morning and decide to hurt someone, make them not like me or to do anything wrong. I am simply struggling to become the best person that it is possible for me to be. I'm just human...

Ten Years Down the Road

Ten years ago tonight I took my last drink of alcohol. I had no idea of what was to follow but know that, at that time, I did not want to live.

My life was broken and filled with shame and the best solution that I could come up with was to kill myself but was too chicken to do so. And so I had to find a way to live. Lonely, defiant, defensive, full of fear and broken dreams, was my existence. Married and divorced three times, abandoned children, lost opportunities, retired on disability due to an injury and everything I tried failed.

Every time I thought about my children, I tried to drink away the pain. I couldn't look the world in the eye and so tried to hate it. I tried to pretend that I didn't need anyone, not knowing all of the lies that I told myself. In my 40's I was still reacting like an abused child - my father was in every set of eyes that looked upon me.

But then the day came when the hatred for myself was all that existed and somehow I got the idea to try sobriety. Divine intervention definitely but I didn't know that then. Silently I begged people for help but in my eyes was hatred and distrust. I couldn't ask for the help but hoped that they would come anyway. On the kitchen floor, clutching the counter's edge, sobbing and screaming, "HELP," I made it through one day without a drink. The beer called out to me from behind the refrigerator door and I begged for more help. Rockets going off inside of my brain, sort of like a missile blasting through a crooked path and barely missing its target. I didn't know if the next blast would be my last. The couch and darkness my best friend. Unable to eat, sleep, talk, bathe, I kept screaming for help. Slowly the rockets eased up and the pain lessened and my cries grew to hours apart. When I'd gone 30 days without a drink, I was filled with amazement. No one that watched me thought that I'd make it.

My life felt broken on the day that I quit drinking but without my crutches to numb my brain, everything fell apart. I couldn't work, pay my bills, carry on a conversation or tell you how I felt. All of these realities fed into the shame and guilt that was already present. Feelings of worthlessness ran deep and were covered up by angry fear. Somehow, I put one foot in front of the other and continued down the road. I had no other options, no place left to go and so I kept returning.

A lot of life has happened in the past ten years, injuries, surgeries, near death, homeless, carless, penniless, friendless, but none of it was worth drinking over. I trudged along. Because I put too much emphasis on what others think of me, I hit another bottom this year when a group of people spread rumors about me. Through the absolute pain and devastation, I found some new strength but it took a lot of work to get there. In one year I've probably grown up more than all the previous ones of my entire life.

Tomorrow many friends are coming together to help me celebrate this ten year milestone. That is a true miracle. From there to here, every step of the journey has been worth it. I am grateful for the life I have today.

Wild Days

The first time that my phone rang this morning, it was 5:50. The racket from my non-conventional telephone tone tore me from my dreams and put me in a place that is unfamiliar to my quiet days. Usually, the only real racket that fills my space is that which is created in my mind.

By the time that I knew that the noise was my phone, which was in the other room, and that it was not yet 6 a.m., it had stopped. Another several minutes passed before I rose to check on the caller's ID, for fear there could be a family emergency. A familiar Seattle number that called me last summer when a female voice wept about how sorry she was, how it was all pride and ego and then said, "I like it when you are dominant over me..." The yuck of that call stays with me, even though I've moved on spiritually and emotionally. I knew who the caller was then and I know who it was today.

Sixty-one minutes later the same number appears on the face of my iPhone. I answer. A familiar voice is doing a low volume, somewhat garbled, bad imitation of a Chinese woman. I've heard this before, when we were face to face. I repeat, "hello." The voice gets a little louder and a little faster. There is giggling. Finally, I repeat the same question that I asked last summer and do so in about the same tone of voice, only louder, "Who is this?" Cackling, more, hung up.

It would be great to write that this had no effect on me and that it was not difficult to push myself out of the door and to where I was going in the first place. My gut told me what I'd find there and it was correct. I'm not going to give this my entire day. I know what to do.

I told my closest friend and she was right when saying that this thing needs to be put away. I try my best but some of the players keep playing. I'm living my life, doing well, happy and smiling. None of that means that everything went away, but that I've done the work to get past it and continue do so on the days when the pain is bad. I'm not consistent. I get feeling great and forget about what got me there. I am human.

For whatever reason that I get under people's skin, they need to get over it and start looking at their own actions. Just as I need to look at my own, no matter what anyone is saying or doing. No matter what! When I don't stay on my own side of the street, my mind starts tearing others apart and I'm not living life to the fullest.

It does not matter that I was harmed by gossip and slander, only that I move on with my life and do what is required of me. It is my job to find happiness regardless of what anyone else does. And, I don't have to use the actions of a few as an excuse to spread my discontent upon the rest. The calls may have disturbed me but I'm happy and smiling and so, everything is okay.

On a Friday

The sun is peaking through bright cumulus clouds on a snowless February day in North Idaho. I wake up to unusual light coming through the blinds that cover my bedroom window, my head is pounding and my body groggy with sleep. I do not expect sunshine today, I expected it last week.

My body moves slowly, somewhat lopsided, to the back door where I reach for a dog cookie and let El Salto out into the back yard. The sun is fairly dancing off of water drops on nearby trees. I wanted grey today - an excuse to stay inside and work at the computer. An excuse to write. I fall back into bed, hoping for more sleep but it does not come.

The dog has gone out once but wants to do so again, preferably at the end of a leash. I'll walk him first, I think, and then go shoot something but don't know what. Moose would be nice but I don't know where they are. I don't know where the waterfalls are either. Actually, I'd promised myself to conserve on gas and not go shooting much until things turned into spring. My glads are already rising out of the heavy mulch of pine straw and leaves. There are buds on the trees. If we don't get a frost, we will have an early spring. If it freezes, we won't have the beautiful wild flowers that have graced us during the past two springs that I've been back home.

Coffee on, dishes washed, I sit down to the computer but nothing in the cyber world. I pick up the newspaper and head into the small room at the center of my house. Because of recent gun violence, a couple of downtown bars are going to scan their patrons for metal. The other bars don't think it is necessary. What is needed is for the police and the district attorney to charge people who are carrying weapons while under the influence. Then, maybe people will think twice about irresponsible gun use. But because the law isn't doing their job, the bars will use metal detectors. Glad that I no longer haunt those places.

Other stuff in the news. I looked for more information on the little chocolate event that is happening tonight but couldn't find it. I am interested in free chocolate - it will be my only Valentines. I'd like to photograph people eating chocolate - why does this interest me. I come across a first person piece written by one of our reporters as a tribute to J.D. Why does this excite me so? I read from the first word to the last, following the fast-paced stream of consciousness, unreliable narrative bringing Holden Caulfield to Coeur d'Alene. The racing thoughts of a disgruntled mind. Why am I so excited? I write a comment on the website. I hesitate when doing this because, for the most part, I try to keep my opinions to myself. That is new behavior for me but when moving back here it occurred to me that someday I might want to do something, career wise, in this town. I don't want to piss people off yet. Oops, I've already done that but then just my presence and my style has a way of doing that. People need to mind their own business.

I've gone through ten disks trying to burn one for the anorexic woman that I shot this past week. She'd asked me to do this awhile back but I'd declined. But, then, this class assignment came up and she appeared, thinner than before, and so it all worked out. I loved being creative and working with a willing subject. Anyway, she wants a CD to show her dad and brother but they won't burn. I'm frustrated and throwing them across the living room. The dog now has his cedar bed beneath his big doghouse, otherwise known as the gazebo. He's been inside all winter. I still haven't taken a shower. My body is stuck in this chair behind this computer screen, where patches of blue sky are capturing the corner of my eye. It feels good to write.

The insanity of the mind of an anorexic is hard for anyone who hasn't experienced it, to understand. I've been there, trying to control my world through limiting what I eat. One slice of bread, a quarter teaspoon of mustard, two thin slices of turkey from the deli. Nibble, make it last. The slower I eat, the quicker I can feel it in my belly. I am in control. No bananas because they are a whole 120 calories and I'd rather spend that allowance on something more tasty. My bones jutting from beneath skin and I feel fat. Five more pounds, I tell myself. I weigh myself countless times a day. Some how, some way, I moved past the insanity but know it can return at any moment. I haven't owned a scale in years and NEVER weigh myself. My back is to the doctor's scale and they don't tell me how much I weigh. Some how, the need to control my world becomes less and less. The mind of an anorexic plays tricks on its person. But if you don't know, you might think that they can change it around at any moment. This is not true - it takes years of vigilance - and one never completely rids themselves of the insanity.

El Salto keeps lifting his head and looking in the window. I still haven't showered and still don't know where I want to shoot. I only know that this is another day to enjoy.

Emotion Fueled Writing

I am writing to purge the excess baggage from my mind. I will write for ten minutes, give or take, without stopping to think, and allowing my mind to loosen and the unbridled thoughts and emotions to surface. When I am done, I will breathe deeply, correct spelling and press "Publish Post." This is what I want to do today. So, get ready, I am about to begin writing on the topic of "Emotion fueled writing."

I find that my best writing comes when I am filled with emotion, mostly of angst. This fact has bothered me for quite some time because I don't want to live my life in chaos and turmoil just to have something interesting to type into the computer. I want to learn how to access the emotion without being in that space. Otherwise, I'm nothing but a moody writer.

I've entered into this life of living. So much going on and while it is exciting, exhilarating and wonderful, it is exhausting. I hate when the red line comes beneath a word and I can't figure out how to spell it correctly. That red line ruins my flow because that is all I see, even while more and more words pile into this box that is lined in grey. I want to stop and go to spell check, which really irritates me because I should know how to spell better than what is going on now. Once upon a time I could spell, but there are still dead spaces in my brain, left over from the infection. There are still things that I don't see correctly. I can hear a name and forget it in the next moment. My eye itches and it is driving me crazy, along with my dry lips. Oh, I'm going to have to stop and rub my eye...

Now some red HTML message popped up. Leave me alone. I began taking a photojournalism course. At first I felt excited to be doing something so positive for my future. And then the course began and I am supposed to go around and take photos of strangers and get their names and ages. I love taking pics of people who don't know that I'm doing it. I love getting them just as they are, in that one moment. I don't love spoiling the moment by asking them questions. I can ask afterwards but doing so beforehand spoils the reality of what I'm capturing. Plus, I'm shy. Not shy when I have a job title that gives me a legitimate reason for taking a photo, but yeah, I am. And then we get this assignment to do a portrait of someone. I get afraid that I won't do the assignment to my potential. My mind is blocked for good ideas. I don't know anyone who is interesting, at least my mind can't remember. I struggle and my gut begins to hurt. I tell myself that I can't do it. I am ready to defeat myself one more time. The ideas start coming to me and soon I'm inundated with possibilities. The world opens up. But I want to do something different, that I've never tried before. Some studio work with lights. I've never used anything other than available light, or, on occasion, a flash. I like nature lighting. In my bag of tricks I discover a lens that would be perfect. I didn't know that I had a perfect lens, that is weird. I had two of them. I don't know how many lenses I have. Several months ago a young woman asked me to photograph her anorexia. I know that she also suffers from OCD. I declined at the time but then, there she was, in front of me. I asked her if she still wanted to do it. I am now in love with studio work.

In the meantime an advertisement pops up and tells me there is a free writing workshop at the library. Now, two nights a week are busy past my bedtime. I am exhausted, mostly from excitement. I have not functioned in a long time and it will take persistence to keep going.

My back is still killing me from a fall on the rocks and that adds to my exhaustion. And now I want to go to school and watch Beth present the owls to the children. I want to hear someone in North Idaho talk about how to act in nature - how to treat the wildlife. I need to be reminded for myself because those creatures excite the senses right out of me. And I want to photograph the horse program for foster children. I want to work with the horses. If I keep moving forward, slowly, maybe my energy will come back.

My ten minutes is probably up but there is more I want to write. Something about being even. Happy but not elated, no sadness, or very little. Questions pop into my head because I'm not afraid - afraid of being dumb. I can carry on a conversation. I can advocate for myself. Suddenly I don't take any crap from people. Now it is okay for people to think or say what they want to about me because I don't take it personally. This is all weird for me. I feel somewhat whole. I can say what is on my mind without hurting someone. I can apologize when I'm wrong, regardless of what the other person might of done. You are right, I'm too old to be celebrating these victories but better to get there than to never make it all.

Someone told me that my smiles were pissing them off. I just keep smiling. People tell me how pretty I am and how my smile lights up a room. They've told me those things my whole life but I couldn't smile. Today I see no reason not to. Now, I'm done.

Healing

In order to heal, a body needs to rest. The same is true for the mind. I am exhausted.

Emotionally and physically I feel better than in the past six months but the recent healing of old wounds has left me drained. No one knows when, or if, these things will ever happen and there is no way to be fully prepared. God just sorta steps in one day and says, "okay, time to play grown up and be accountable," and it is our job to be spiritually fit enough to kiss and make-up.

Anyone who has been following my previous blog for the past twelve months, knows that the personal challenges have been huge. I had a relationship fall apart and bystanders decided to make it their business. I was slandered, gossiped about, ostracized, alienated and driven insane. Some people wanted me to leave town, others probably wanted me to drink, maybe they even fantasized my killing of myself. I don't know the absolute truth of any of those things but do know that I gave away my power and nearly allowed myself to be driven away, to drink or to die. My head got to talking and wouldn't shut up. I never thought that things would get better. I couldn't understand why these things were happening and tried to hold onto the idea that there was some sort of divine plan in place and that there were lessons for me to learn. The whole thing was hell and I could not see a way out.

I didn't know anything to do, but to keep moving forward. The whole thing consumed me and it grew larger with each passing day. My reputation was ruined. People were told that I was a predator and there were stories that I was plotting to murder someone. I never knew everything that was being said because I, like everyone else, only heard it through the grapevine. What I heard had no basis in reality and so nothing computed. I do know that there are some mean and sick people in the world who need to pick apart the lives of others so that they never have to look at themselves. But I couldn't see the truth in that statement while in the middle of it all. Every day there was one more person who was no longer speaking to me and I would chase through my brain, searching for what I'd done to them. Total sickness on my part, for me to take any of this in a personal way.

My own healing has come slowly. My head quit telling me bad stories about myself and it quit worrying about what those others thought about me. I learned about who I am and why certain things came into my life. I learned to be honest with myself. That last part was huge because no matter how I'd try before, there was some sort of blockage in my brain and it wouldn't allow me the truth. I wanted the truth but could not get there. I rode the roller coaster for month, up, down and twisted around. I thought that if those people would behave better, I would get better.

Those people did not start behaving better until I retrieved my power, put my head up for real and began smiling once more. I was powerless over their actions and they are powerless over my new found strength, confidence and love for myself. No one but myself can take that goodness from me.

And then, out of the blue, one of the women made amends to me. She looked me straight in the eye and said, "You have been harmed." Not that I didn't know this but it was the perfect thing for her to say. Her own shame and quilt has put her into a spiral of hell and now she can't see the way out. And so I offered her my experience, strength and hope of sticking around and walking through. I described how relieved people are to see me with my head up and to no longer be sparring with some of the people. Her and her family, me and my family and the community can now heal and move forward.

The power and the grace of God is alive and well in my life and, as usual, his plan was perfectly executed.

Minor Annoyances

Call me a baby if you like but in the morning, when the coffee dribbles over the kitchen counter, while I'm pouring it into a cup, I get annoyed. It irritates me when doing a thing creates another mess to clean up. Like when I pull the juice out of the fridge and the milk comes tumbling onto the floor. Here, I've already got the juice glass to wash and the juice bottle to put away but two more messes arise, clean up the milk and run to the store for more.

I am easily agitated and don't appreciate that about myself as it would be much simpler to let things roll off of my back, shrug my shoulders, do the next thing and move on. But, once one thing agitates me there are a string of them. I trip over the rug, a hair gets in my face and won't leave me alone, it feels like something is in my nostril and I want to pick it away and the internet slows down to a crawl and messes with my momentum. I have intentions of getting things done but they don't go smoothly and all hell breaks loose inside of my brain. Don't dare call me when this happens because then I don't want to talk to you.

My son called this morning, just as the internet quit working and all I could think was, let me off of the phone so that I can fix this. And he is just calling to say hi and I love you. My neurotransmitters are not firing correctly. I'm not mean but do get irritated inside of myself and it comes out as being short and mean. There are always hormones to blame - the doctor thought anti-depressants would calm them down instead of more HRT. He is worried about breast cancer. I am worried about not being a nice person. And then, when the hormone patch is drying up, I have to run to the bathroom every thirty seconds, or so it seems, and that interrupts my life. Much more so than to put on a new patch, but I'm too busy. Where did my volume of insanity come from?

I've lived alone for way too long and have forgotten how to stop and listen to someone else. STOP what I am doing and take time. I want others to do that for me so why is it so hard? There is no one for me to cook for, clean up after, discuss things with, to argue with or to help me. I'm a scrapper, always worried about getting it all done. Always over whelmed by the never ending to do list. I become single-minded but don't want to be that way.

Perhaps it is the smell of spring in the midst of this unusual Idaho winter that is causing me to have feelings of longing. I keep thinking that a shoulder to rub, a cheek to nuzzle, a warm body to wrap around, would be nice. Over whelming feelings of loneliness prevail, even in the midst of my passions. I desire love and passion of the heart.

I also desire to hug my oldest son and to wrap my arms around my granddaughters and to breath deeply of their fresh and youthful skin. I saw him, my son, the other day. He was getting a hair cut at the place right next to my pharmacy. In two years time this is the first incidence of "running into him." I stood outside and stared at him, not recognizing him at first. My eyes were glued to his expressions and his body movements, the way he interacted with the stylist. I could have stood there for a long time but didn't. I lingered in the pharmacy and then in the coffee shop on the other side of the salon, hoping to exit at just the right moment but knew that it would be pushing too hard to make our first encounter happen. I headed towards my own truck and noticed a glove under his. I stepped over and picked up the soft, flimsy fabric and gently placed it on his rearview mirror before walking off. And then I realized that the glove was my opening to telling him hello. Except that I was so nervous and scared that he'd brush me off that I was gruff and closed, not very friendly. I regret not smiling more and not saying more. I sent him a text and told him how wonderful it was to see him, how well he looked and how I wanted to hug him but was nervous. He didn't respond, he never does. But, yet, he was nice. Said hi with a friendly look. Why can't I do things right when it comes to him? I try too hard.

I love this photo of the eagle because it says, I give up. I surrender. Wave my arms in the air, above my head and let the world take its course. Find peace in my heart, contentment in my soul and let the small things roll off of my back. So what if the squirrel is stealing all of the Jay's peanuts, and the coffee dribbles on the counter and the internet slows to a crawl, it is all just a moment in time before it passes to the next. My sons and grandchildren are important, as is my heart and how I fill the dashes of my life. A reminder to slow down and enjoy what is in front of me and let the rest come when it will.

Freedom

I stare into my pictures and too often wish that I was there instead of here. Up there on that buckskin's back, feeling bold muscles beneath my thighs, my hair free behind me and the wind whipping tears from my eyes.

I never intended to be where I am now but can't tell you where I intended to be. The years of my life whiz through my fragmented memory like a horror movie filled with moments of joy and wonder. The day my son David was born, when I raced a horse on the beach of the Pacific Ocean, when I first looked at a bird and saw its freedom, when I wrote a story and liked it, when I picked up a camera and tried to chase a hummingbird around, and when my youngest, Brandon, decided to change his life around, so many small pieces that spelled hope. Those moments sporadic but there, all pulling at my insides, trying to tug at my essence and bring it to the core of my awareness.

The happiness was the antithesis of everything my father told me that I could have and so I pushed it away, settling for the misery he bottled my childhood into. I could have broken that bottle at any time, it was glass after all, but no one told me that it was okay.

When I made the decision to close my original blog and move my words away from the prying eyes of people who are so unhappy with their lives that they have to pick apart mine and other's, the freedom of my heart soared. It took so many years for me to realize that I could move away from my abusers and surround myself with nature and caring people, but that is my new direction. At the moment I'm not trying to please anyone other than myself. I'm not trying to be anyone else and am not unhappy with who I am. Free of the chains that have shackled me since early childhood and that I attached to boulders in later years, thinking that there was nothing better.

I am the product of my experiences but they are not who I am. I have not gotten over the abusive episodes but finally am through them and onto better things.

For the umpteenth time since returning to Idaho, I went searching for moose to shoot (photograph) and couldn't find them. Instead this buckskin pushed its way into my dreams and reminded me of some of the precious moments of the past and suddenly I realized that there were more to come.

Writing for myself

For the past 4.5 years I've written a blog, which was ended just today, under this same name on a site called Blogstream. I am not a socially adept person and so many of my writings have been about trying to understand the human race and to learn who I am. More than my heart struggles, I am adventurous and love to share my discoveries and joys through writing and photography. I yearn to tell the truth and am constantly trying to learn more eloquent ways to share it. More and more I am trying to bring faith and spirituality into the way that I approach and assimilate my surroundings. This blog is a continuation of my journey. A link to my old blog can be found on this page.

So, here it goes.

Yesterday, when I woke up there was no white noise filling my ears. The heat was off and they air outside was warm. Another gift during an unusually mild winter in North Idaho.

When I looked outside and saw the sun peeking into my morning and the cloudless sky, I nearly jumped for joy but my sore body stopped me short. Instead of putting fashion jeans on, the kind that show my weight loss, I pulled on long underwear and baggy jeans, some insulated tops and a sweatshirt. My muddy wet boots over insulated socks and drug out a couple of jackets, one heavy and one light. Another day to spend with the few eagles! A true gift.

I had no idea of how blue the sky would get or how much the eagles would glisten in the sunlight. The entire world looked better - brighter - and so much more fun to photograph. People, dogs, plants, everything was bright with newness. Nor did I anticipate taking off the heavy jacket, or the light jacket and finally the sweatshirt, or of getting the red glow of sun upon my cheeks. It was a holiday and people were out enjoying our spring day in mid winter. That is how it is here in North Idaho, the lights come on and people are outside for the duration. There is more health and fitness and more appreciation for nature than in any other place that I've lived.

I photographed eagles, dogs, people and the landscape. I sat on the rocks next to the lake and soaked in the sun. I smiled on the relaxed faces of people who passed by. And I about busted a little brat's butt when his rock whizzed close by my head before it landed in the lake. I heard his dad yelling so that was good enough.

Because of other obligations, I had to go in too soon and therefore pouted like a baby. Being grown up and responsible can be a real pain, despite its rewards.

In the morning someone spoke about how we are not powerless over anything, except substance addiction - adding that we aren't powerless over not having a job and many other challenges that come our way. I bristled and let her words eat my lunch. I am powerless over what she says and does because believe me, if it were in my power to do so, I would shut her big mouth. I mulled this over, too much, and it interfered with some of my joy. To heavy to put on my heart, I needed to let it go. By four or so, I was too tired to continue the day. That worries me some because I've never been one to get tired in the afternoon. This too shall pass.

I wonder, is there such a thing as a perfect day? A day when no one upsets us, we don't upset anyone, the weather is perfect, our health is perfect and there is only joy in our hearts? This makes me laugh for no, there is no such thing as perfection, only progress towards it. Last night my sleep was filled with more peace than anxiety and that makes for a near perfect day.