Butterfly ~

A butterfly tickling my hand

Butterfly Child~

When I first saw you

Standing in the morning dew

Butterflies were dancing in your hair

Holding you seemed

As impossible as a dream

As I reached out to touch you... you were no longer there.

How could I know

That I'd ever let you go?

The butterflies and you were much too rare.

You fluttered away

And I couldn't make you stay

The call of the wild was much too strong to bear.

Butterfly child

You're running wild

Up in the air, lovely and rare

Gentle and mild

I tried so hard to tie you down... but you just flew away.

By Ruthie Pearlman

* * * * *

Butterfly~

Butterfly
Take a step outside your shell
To drink the secrets of the well
No longer will you fit inside
There's no more need to run and hide
It's easy now to be yourself
And set your fears upon a shelf
To close your eyes for just a thought
And reconsider all you're taught
Wishes made when you were young
Captured in the songs you sung
Freed your heart to laugh and play
Reminders of a former day
So now you look through open eyes
To ask the hows, the whens, the whys
To search the world to find your part
And free the dreams within your heart

By Robert Longley

* * * * *


She's almost a butterfly~

She's almost a butterfly
She has not yet evolved to the beauty sure to be hers
But growing pains will not hold her back
She left the cocoon forever and is destined to seek and claim the sky
She's almost a butterfly.

She struggles to find wind strong enough to lift her wings
And gentle enough to let her spirit learn to soar
Soar above those who doubt with judging eyes
And from those too afraid to live or even try.
Is there really such strength waiting to flick from the wings of youth
Wings that do not yet span or flutter or dance
But leave her grounded, sorting through a riot of color
To find those that fit her best.

Years feel like ages when really it's only been a moment
Since she started the quest of self image and growth
But she'll see it through and claim her sky
So that never again can it be said
She's almost a butterfly.

Copyright 2009-2010 @ Sundrip Journals. All rights reserved.

* * * * *

I have been thinking a lot about when a caterpillar turns into a butterfly lately. The transformation that takes place. I feel at odds with myself. The kids are all grown up, they do not need me like they use to. This is the way it should be. Please do not misunderstand me, I get and want that.

I read other blogs and everyone seems to know what they are doing and what they want just in general. I had a life that I felt very content with. This is a season of change for me... instead of feeling like a fish out of water, I am hoping that it will be as graceful as the butterfly.

You can see for miles and miles! ~

High Sierra snow capped mountains

I love it where I live! The view on a clear day, you can see the snow capped mountains in the High Sierra. It's a beautiful two and a half hour drive to get there.



Western Foothills

Just on the other side of these western foot hills you can drive over the Pacheco pass and be standing on the beach with the coast wind blowing in your hair in two hours and 15 minutes. I have gotten there in two hours flat.

When it isn't a clear day, we just have a haze over the valley and warnings of it being a "Bad Air Day," and encouraging us to stay indoors. The local papers and news stations are always giving us tips and guide-lines to live more comfortable and how to improve our air.

I have tried to do my part... very little I know in the grand scheme of things. Nonetheless, I have to believe it makes a little difference. I live one half of a mile from where I work and I sometimes walk. I will also try to wait to make a trip uptown unless I have at least several errands to make. We also have slowly changed our regular light bulbs to the energy saving fluorescent light bulbs.

I am not trying to toot my own horn... but the state of the world on so many different levels does concern me. I do notice days like this and really appreciate them. When it gets hotter, we see fewer and fewer days such as these.

What do you see where you live?

My Beautiful Broken Shell ~

It is low tide and I watch, mesmerized, as the
ocean rises slowly...curls... and then spills its
white-laced foam onto the shore.

I walk by a broken scallop shell...
and leave it to search for
more perfect ones.

But then I stop...
go back...and pick up
the broken shell. I realize
that this shell is me
with my broken heart.

This shell is people who are hurting...
people who have lost loved ones...
people who are frightened or alone...
people with unfulfilled dreams.

Broken shells teach us not to
look at our imperfections... but to look
at the beauty... the great beauty...
of what is left.

I watch the rolling surf
toss new shells onto the shore,
and I am reminded of the many times
that I, too, have been tossed
by the storms of life and worn down
by the sands of time, just like
my beautiful broken shell.
But I am reminded that broken
shells don't stand alone.

Thank You, Lord, for being with me
to share my life... to help me
carry my burdens.

Thank You for the precious gift of faith
that keeps me strong when I am weak...
that keeps me going when it
would be easier to quit.

Thank You, Lord, for hope in times of despair...
for light in times of darkness...
for patience in times of suffering...
for assuring me that with You
all things are possible.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted;
and those who are crushed in spirit He saves.
Psalm 34:18

*Taken from the book, My Beautiful Broken Shell by Carol Hamblet Adams

Gift of Sunshine ~

The other day in the mail I received a package full of happiness from a very sweet friend of mine named Cinda. She is a very creative, talented artist and included some of her creations! I was so excited to be holding them and I have to say they are even more beautiful in person!

Thank-you my friend for your gift of sunshine!

Clutter~

My daughter gave this card to me....

I am sharing something with you...and I ask myself, "Why?" The answer: I have absolutely no clue. Maybe I am just sending this out into the world and hoping that the faeries will sprinkle some of their magic dust on me for a simple cure! I have been trying to redeem myself. It all started when My dad became ill and we discovered that he had cancer and I was unable to keep up on the house. Well.... that is not fair of me to say. I have always been somewhat of a pack rat. Is there another form of animal I can use to describe that!? In my own defense, everything had its place, you know, a home. I guess you can say I was an organized pack rat. I have been trying to think when all of this got out-of-hand. I keep coming up with when my dad needed me. Don't take me wrong; I would do it again in a heart beat. However, I would do it differently, starting with spending even more time with my dad. I would have insisted that my children were with me always, and not at home or elsewhere. Whether they liked it or not, it would have been, "Too bad!" I think that if you were to ask them if they had to do it over again.... they would want it that way as well. Anyhow, it was a hard year, and I was numb for almost a year after that. Then hit with some more family crisis. I had to see a doctor for some help. All of this has been over several years, though nevertheless back to back. When you're already on your knees, its hard to have a clear head going into another endeavor. It can really take a toll on your spirit and emotions. Okay, enough of that. Back to my...issue.

I have seen enough Oprah shows to know I have a problem. It is very hard for me to throw things away. My son Rob is sweet in telling me that I, "just hold things close and dear to my heart. Everything has some meaning to me and it is hard for me to part with it." By the way, he is a lot like me in that way. Now, my daughter on the other hand, is a lot like her dad. I get a little harassed from these two. She has something for so long, and then when the time is up.... poof it is gone! Her sweatshirts for instance.... she allows herself to have just so many, and if she has gotten a new one, one must go, and it does! Believe me, it is very hard for me to watch this. She will have bags of her things or clothes ready to be taken to Good Will and as I go to the bag to see what she has put in there, I hear a voice "Step Away From the BAG!" She is so much better than I. How I wish I could just let go. Feel the Freedom.

So, I have gone out to Wal-Mart and bought three file boxes. I am going through all of my papers, recipes, everything, and giving it a home. I have thrown away ten brown grocery bags full of papers. It can be overwhelming and I to have to walk away from it often. I have told myself that I have to stay and do this for at least 30 minutes at a time. I am actually making a dent in this clutter. I can see a dim light. My daughter will walk by and say in a faint, hypnotizing voice, "Go to the light.... " She is my little cheerleader. I have started boxes for a "Yard Sale," that I will have when I am done with this, because not all of my clutter is paper, as my daughter explains. I believe this clutter is keeping me in a state of just being stuck in one place. I am ready to move forward. Grow!

So! Come on faeries, sprinkle the dust!

p.s. Cinda Cro and I have been discussing a possible "Pack Rat Anonymous" group out there. I will be the first to stand up and say "Hi, My name is Angela, and I AM a pack rat."

A Grace Disguised ~ Pain ~ Darkness

And sometimes, when the cry is intense, there emerges a radiance which elsewhere seldom appears: a glow of courage, of love, of insight, of selflessness, of faith. In that radiance we see best what humanity was meant to be.... In the valley of suffering, despair and bitterness are brewed. But there also character is made. The valley of suffering is the vale of soul-making.

Only when we choose to pay attention to our souls will we learn how much more there is to life than the external world around us, however wonderful or horrible that world is. We will discover the world within. Yet such attention to the soul does not have to engender self-absorption. If anything, it eventually turns us toward the world again and makes us more compassionate and just than we might otherwise have been.

Not that the choices we make will always have happy results. That is especially true when we choose to face our losses squarely. When we plunge into darkness, it is darkness we experience. We feel pain, anguish, sorrow, and despair, and we experience the ugliness, meanness, and absurdity of life. We brood as well as hope, rage as well as surrender, doubt as well as believe. We are apathetic as often as we are hopeful, and sorrowful before we are joyful. We both mourn deeply and live well, We experience the ambivalence of living simultaneously in the night and in the light.


*taken from A Grace Disguised, How the Soul Grows Through Loss by Gerald L. Sittser

Windows of Thought ~

Just Once ~

Just once in the year do the geese fly south,
And once does the first snow fall,
Just once do the buds burst forth in spring,
And once does the corn grow tall!

Just once in the day does the purple East
Light up with the glow dawn,
And once do the deepening shadows fall,
At dusk, when the sun is gone.

Then how can a person be tired of Life
Or bored in a world like ours?
Where once is the season of crimson leaves
And once is the time for flowers.

For so it is planned in the life of man,
His story is quickly told,
Just once he's a child at his mother's knee,
And once he is gray and old.

Then give me the wisdom, good Lord, to know
The miracles shown to me,
That I may watch any passing day~
Yet never again may see!

Stillman J. Elwell