I have very little to say today, as the smell of hyacinths fills my house and the sun streams through the windows. Today, the pictures—taken just this afternoon in my neighborhood—can speak for themselves.
Happy beautiful tree season, everyone!
Who knew? Not me, until recently. But luckily, I have friends in the know.
On its website, NPR shares great videos of musical artists, videos you won’t see on MTV. Well, I can’t swear to that, since I haven’t watched MTV since probably the ’90s (whenever “reality shows” and other non-artistic time-wasters started getting more airtime than music videos). But I’m betting MTV won’t air Adele calmly sitting in NPR’s office and belting out three of her songs. This is a “Tiny Desk Concert” you didn’t want to miss. (Unfortunately, unless I was just experiencing a temporary technical snafu, it appears Adele’s video is no longer up for you to watch. But you can still hear the audio: click on the “Audio Only” link above the video screen.) You can, however, still see the Tiny Desk Concert from Iron & Wine.
And if you were one of the many people watching the Grammys saying “Who in the world is Esperanza Spalding?” you can listen to this 2009 Piano Jazz session with her. There’s interesting stuff about how she got started, and even better, you get to hear her play and sing.
The website also has a fantastic feature called “First Listen,” where new albums are available for listening, in full, for free, before they are released. I’m currently listening to the new Alison Krauss & Union Station album, Paper Airplane. Yesterday, I was listening to the new Paul Simon release, So Beautiful or So What. What is not to love about this?! (Both albums are great, by the way.)
So, if you’re a lover of music, check out NPR’s music website. You’ll be glad you did. And as I haven’t had time to explore the site fully, if you discover any site features that you love, please let us all know by commenting on this post. Thanks!
If you haven’t already seen Matt dancing around the world, check this out. And if you have already witnessed it, what the heck, take a few minutes and watch it again.
Watch the whole thing. Even though it’s all of four and a half minutes, it does build in intensity and emotional impact. And it will definitely change your day for the better.
If you’re anything like me, you’ll feel compelled to have this song available to play whenever you need a boost of peace and joy, so I’ve provided a link to it on Amazon. (You can also get the song through iTunes.)
So now that you’ve just proven to yourself that joy is contagious, go out and spread some!
P.S. If you’re curious about Matt and how he ended up in all these places, check out his website.
In a post earlier this week, I mentioned the idea of starting over. Nature does it every year, when springtime bursts with new growth, replacing a tired-looking world with one of exuberance and promise.
But it can be easy to forget that starting over is possible for us as individuals, especially during the cold down-cycle of winter. That winter may be the actual one of the physical world, or it may be a metaphorical one. Maybe it’s a divorce or the loss of a job. Or perhaps it’s just the rut of doing the same thing day after day and not finding any joy in it. We all have periods in our lives when we feel we’re in some kind of holding pattern and periods when we feel we’re caught in a cyclone.
During those times, it’s natural to think it’s all beyond our control. In many ways, it is. But here’s the thing: we aren’t supposed to control everything around us. And thinking that we should be able to only stresses us out (because we usually fail). What we can control is our thoughts, our perceptions about what is happening.
Sometime over the last few years, I read something that stuck with me. It was that everything we do is a choice. We are never forced to do anything; there is always an alternative. For example, do you really “have” to get up and go to work? No, you could stay in bed. But then you could lose your job, your house, etc. So instead of thinking you “have” to go to work, you may want to think about it as you “get” to go to work. You “get” to be a good provider for your family. And just like that—it’s a privilege, not a sentence. Simply changing that one word in your thoughts can make a significant difference in your mood and subsequently the mood of those around you. And changing moods and attitudes can, and I believe usually does, change the course of what happens.
The options we’re offered may not always be the ones we’d like, but there are always options. So we make a choice. And then—and I think this is critical—we need to take ownership of that choice and its consequences. We can’t blame anyone else for what happens to us when we are the ones who made the choices that led us there. That can seem like a lot of pressure, I know. But the saving grace is knowing that life continuously changes; we will always be making another choice and then another and another. So we’re never stuck … unless we think we are.
We won’t always know the right choices to make or the right roads to take, but that’s kind of the point, I think. Life is a journey, not a race. There is no prize for getting to a certain destination earlier than anyone else. And, as illustrated in a movie I enjoyed recently (“The Switch” with Jason Bateman and Jennifer Aniston), reality is usually messy. The important thing is to make another choice, to continue the journey, being as honest as possible. Maybe when you feel lost from time to time, you’ll want to sit in the middle of the road and cry. That’s fine. Just remember to get back up and keep going. Don’t feel bad about not knowing what you’re doing; we all feel that way. It’s all a lovely mess, just the way it should be. And every day, every moment even, is an opportunity to make another choice and start on a new path.
This beautiful song talks about the influence of our thoughts and our ability to always start over. Listen to the words carefully. I find it a good reminder, and I hope you enjoy it too.
I don’t know about you, but I actually enjoy rainy days in springtime.
To me, spring rains feel like a gift from the Earth, a kind and generous gift. Unlike the bone-chilling rains of November, these raindrops bring the promise of sunshine and warmer temperatures soon to come. But most importantly, these rainy days bring life with them: that glorious greenness that I love about the Mid-Atlantic and flowers, wonderful flowers, including the delightful-smelling lovelies pictured below.
So instead of groaning (or even cursing) about the rain, let’s try to smile about the beauty it will bring. Happy spring rain! 🙂
Teased by a short, glorious early warmup, many people in my part of the world are wishing aloud for the “real” spring to show up. (Of course, by that they mean sunny days and much warmer temperatures—which is probably jumping to late spring, but you get the idea.)
I have to agree, having had my fill of needing the heat turned on in the house and putting a winter coat on for the short walk to the mailbox. Apparently at some point in my life I became a wuss. But that, luckily for you, is not the subject of today’s entry.
Every year, we eagerly anticipate spring. We rejoice when we see the early flowers blooming: the tiny crocuses peeking through the dead leaves in flower beds, the forsythia bursting yellow in neatly trimmed hedges or natural wild abandon, and, finally, the daffodils, too numerous to count in my neighborhood. These bright spots of color remind us that the crunchy brown of the dead grass and the cheerless gray of the sky will soon be replaced by brilliant greens and blues. Curly lime-colored leaves will soon start filling in the now-bare trees, and once again, we will be surrounded by luxurious awe-inspiring growth. Somehow it makes us all feel better; it reminds us that we too can start again. It is, truly, a wonderful time of year.
But this year I was struck by something I never really gave much thought to. Those harbingers of spring, those first flowers that appear—they tend to be quite delicate, in appearance anyway. Those tiny crocuses with their spindly almost non-existent leaves—how do they survive the cold, even the snow? How is that possible? I’m sure there’s a scientific explanation for this phenomenon, but I’m more interested in what it can teach us.
It made me think of my mom. I’ll never forget hearing, years ago, a dear friend of the family say my mother was the meekest person he knew. He meant it as a compliment, following it up with a comment about the meek inheriting the Earth. And he was right. She doesn’t make a grand entrance; she is never the loudest voice in the room. But she is also the strongest person I know. Without complaining, without looking for anyone’s pity or usually anyone’s help in any way, she has cared for a husband and five children, co-run a business, and survived hardships with grace. With a smile on her face, she’s always ready to lend a hand and be of service in any way she can. And she does it all without calling attention to herself. Like the crocus, she demonstrates that real strength is modest. It is quiet and can easily go unnoticed. But if we pay attention, we see the beauty: the true beauty of standing strong while being flexible enough to remain in harmony with the life that surrounds us.
God bless my friends.
Obviously there are many benefits to having good friends, something I’m learning more and more as I grow older. But one of the many benefits, in my mind at least, is discovering new music through those friends. And being a person of eclectic musical taste, I’m grateful to say that I have a friend base with a wide range of musical preferences.
Just the other day, a friend shared a YouTube video of a band I had never heard of: 30 Seconds to Mars. I was so excited to see the lead singer was Jared Leto, whom I had previously known only as a wonderful actor (with AMAZING, AMAZING, AMAZING eyes). Did you get that? There’s an example of beauty for you. Anyway, I digress…
The song featured in the video? “Closer to the Edge.” The energy of this song is amazing. The video pans concert arenas around the globe as 30 Seconds to Mars takes and owns the stage, complete with Jared sporting a fuschia-tipped mohawk and crowd-surfing. I don’t think it’s possible to keep from pumping your fists along with the audience members as they scream “No! No!” This is definitely the song to put on when you need a jolt of energy.
But in the midst of the song’s in-your-face no-apologies attitude, the video includes moments of extreme sensitivity. Kids offer touching, sometimes heartbreaking, statements about the fleeting nature of life, what they wish for the planet (but don’t believe is possible), and what music means to them. One echoes my philosophy exactly: “My philosophy in life is don’t regret anything you do because, in the end, it makes you who you are.”
No regrets, only learning experiences. The key is to actually learn from them.
Warning: Watching this video may cause crazy dancing.
One of the dangers of an active mind is having nothing to do with all the jabbering going on up there. So far, talking to myself has achieved little other than garnering some very strange looks, so I thought I’d start this blog.
Actually, that is partially true.
But I also, on occasion, have a thought or photo that I think others may enjoy. And so I offer this blog as a way to potentially entertain and inspire you. (Note the “potentially” in there. I offer no guarantees.)
Topics you may encounter in this blog: nature, beauty, art, music, serenity… and lots of photos, as I have found taking pictures a wonderful way to capture my view of the world and its beauty. Nothing is out of the realm of possibility, but I would like to keep this blog on the positive side, as there are already plenty of places you can find people complaining about the state of things.
With peace and gratitude, I thank you for your interest.