This post was writ­ten by me in 2009–This is why jour­nal­ing and writ­ing is so impor­tant.  I have a lot of fun going down mem­o­ry lane.  Some­times I cringe when I notice I have not improved much in cer­tain areas, but for the most part, I appre­ci­ate the unfriend­ly reminders to do things bet­ter.

Today’s les­son: don’t trust your mem­o­ry.  Sev­er­al years from today, this morn­ing will be a vague mem­o­ry.  Chron­i­cle your jour­ney and share your sto­ry with the world.

“Fam­i­ly and Friends,

This morn­ing, I woke up with immense joy in my heart.  I looked out my win­dow and saw a bit of rain, just enough to make me want to open my win­dow, poke my head out and breathe the fresh, cool air.  I closed my eyes and imme­di­ate­ly I thanked God for the bless­ing of hav­ing the abil­i­ty to smell.  I stood in front of my opened win­dow and observed in silence nature’s beau­ty.  Ah the joy.

I quick­ly tuned to one of my favorite radio sta­tions, Mem­o­ries of 89 One KCEA-FM and start­ed my tea pot.  I danced around in my kitchen to music by Les Bax­ter, “Wake the Town and Tell the Peo­ple.”  Wow, what lyrics! I wish I could go back to the 30’s, 40’s and 50’s; I would be for­ev­er in love.  Music is so pow­er­ful!  I am so blessed to have the abil­i­ty to lis­ten to the sound of music, the sound of rain, the sound of silence and the sound of love.

Do you hear that?  That is the sound of love being trans­formed into words, words of wis­dom, words of utter faith, words of pure joy, words of encour­age­ment and words of love.  “Wake the town and tell the peo­ple, tell the peo­ple I’m in love.  Shout it from the high­est moun­tain, ring the bells the whole night through, wake the town and tell the peo­ple, tell them I’m in love with you…”

Love is a won­der­ful feel­ing.  Love leads to grat­i­tude and grat­i­tude is so vast, so immea­sur­able.  I am so grate­ful for these two eyes that work so hard to try and see the beau­ty in every­one and every­thing.  I am so grate­ful for these two hands because they are able to touch yours.  I am so grate­ful for these fin­gers because they allow me to squeeze my nephew’s cheeks and bel­ly!  I am espe­cial­ly grate­ful for my left hand because it enables me to write.  I am so grate­ful for these two arms because I can wrap them around you when you need com­fort.  I am thank­ful for these two legs because they take me to where you are.  I am so grate­ful for my smile and the fact that I can share it with you. I am so grate­ful for this mind because it allows me to cre­ate, it enables me to rea­son; it per­mits me to con­struct and to believe…it grants me the abil­i­ty to see ahead for a bet­ter tomor­row.  I am grate­ful for my heart because you, my fam­i­ly and friends are in it.  I give my heart and soul to you.  “Hold me close and hold me fast, the mag­ic spell you cast, this is la vie en rose, when you kiss me Heav­en sighs and though I close my eyes, I see la vie en rose.  When you press me to your heart I’m in a world apart, a world where ros­es bloom…”

I will share with you what I tell myself in silence every­day: Love God. Love your­self.  Love your fam­i­ly and friends.  Be kind to strangers.  Be grate­ful for all your bless­ings.  Be patient with those who walk a bit slow­er than you.  Have com­pas­sion for the old, the weak, the lone­ly, the hun­gry and the cold.  Smile at some­one and when you give a com­pli­ment, mean it.  If you feel some­thing in your heart, say it. Don’t think too long, oth­er­wise you will let the moment pass you by.

If you love some­one let them know.  Don’t assume they know how you feel.  Say it right then and there, say it often.  If you’ve done harm, fix it.  Relieve the trou­bles of your heart.  Don’t wait too long to do the right thing.  If you’re walk­ing and you see a piece of trash, pick it up.  If you see a home­less per­son, nev­er, ever judge or crit­i­cize him.  How high can one real­ly fly with bro­ken wings?  If you’re going to give just give. Do not ruin the kind ges­ture and do not spoil your gen­eros­i­ty with hurt­ful words.  Hon­or those in pover­ty more often than those in wealth.  Nev­er laugh at any­one who has been humil­i­at­ed.  Every liv­ing being, plant and ani­mal appre­ci­ates gen­eros­i­ty.  Be gen­er­ous with your kind­ness.  Do not turn your back on those who need you or those who weep, strangers and the like.

Iris, when you meet a man do not over­rate him for his good looks.  Instead, be con­cerned with what’s in his heart and in his mind.  Iris, this is some­times dif­fi­cult to remem­ber, but don’t take sides in a quar­rel that is not your own. Don’t gos­sip and don’t enter­tain gos­sip.  “On a windy day, grab a feath­ered pil­low and stand on your roof, cut it open and let the feath­ers fall out, now go and pick up all the feath­ers. You can’t.  You don’t know where they’ve gone.  They seem to have gone every­where.  That’s how far gos­sip trav­els.”

Be a good and faith­ful friend.  A faith­ful friend is beyond price.  Be patient, be pleas­ant and be kind.  Read, study, lis­ten and learn.  Learn the true mean­ing of altru­ism.  Do not argue with gar­ru­lous peo­ple.  Unjust rage can nev­er be excused.  Dis­ci­pline your mouth, dis­ci­pline your tongue.  Iris, exam­ine your­self before you think of judg­ing any­one.  Be mod­est and hum­ble and always keep your self-respect.  Stand firm­ly only by what you know and be con­sis­tent in what you say.  Be quick to lis­ten and slow in answer­ing. Don’t wor­ry about appear­ing less sharp if you pause to take your time in answer­ing.  Don’t asso­ciate with the arro­gant, don’t gloat and don’t brag.  And last­ly, have good inten­tions and always, always love. Love is just around the cor­ner, a cozy lit­tle cor­ner.