We have days dedicated to celebrating almost everything. Days for donuts, coffee, moms, dads, cats, and dogs-and the list goes on and on. Today was MRI day. At least, that is what I decided to proclaim. Especially now that my doctor insists I have one in addition to my mammogram every year.
They are not particularly fun. Imagine lying face down on a narrow table. White towels lining the hole where your face rests. Your arms straight out in front-think Superman pose. No, wait-Wonder Woman. 😉
Once in position, you must be perfectly still for thirty minutes. Perfectly still while the tube you are in makes random, intermittent noises, as if preparing for take-off. Actually, it is just a really loud camera.
I know this probably does not sound like something to celebrate. But this year, I choose to view it differently. I am celebrating deep breaths that helped me to relax. I am celebrating old hymns and classic James Taylor singing inside my head. I am celebrating medical science that says early detection is key.
Even though physically uncomfortable, the above reasons eased my anxiety. And I was reminded that I can do hard things. So, get your mammograms! And if your doctor says the word MRI, you can do it! Until next year! 💕
We try and try to Measure our lives Days, weeks, months, years The number of seasons We travel can never Accurately measure Our existence What matters most Is often invisible Harder to quantify- The full impact realized, After physical days Have long passed If only our hearts Could be weighed An appraisal revealing The constant flow Of life-giving air Transformed into Actions of love- Actions of love Breathing Life-giving air- Leaving the heart full But never heavy Always overflowing Impossible to measure
I suppose there is something about being in quarantine that makes me think more about time. Particularly being quarantined as a new year begins. But it is ok. As my Mom recently said, “Looking forward to better days!” 🙂 ❤
Rain poured all night long. Thunderstorms make for sound sleep, but not this kind of rain. Sounded more like a flood.
I woke up several times during the night. Yep, it’s still raining. Made me feel restless.
When I finally decided to crawl out of bed and get my coffee, the sky was dark and gray. Still raining.
No lazing around. My husband and I had appointments for COVID tests this morning. Not exactly how I would have chosen to start the day, but necessary. (Feeling fine. 🙂 I will update later.)
About the time I was dressed, he said, “Look outside. It’s snowing!” Heavy white flakes were beginning to mix with the pouring rain. By the time we reached our test site, the precipitation had changed. No more rain. Just beautiful fluffy snowflakes!
I watched in awe of this lovely gift! I could feel a change in my spirit as the rain changed to snow- a perfect picture of this year that is about to end.
Yes, there has been much heartache. But there is still hope. And today, it comes in the form of countless snowflakes, each an original, falling from the sky to blanket the world outside.
I have not spent enough time at my piano in recent weeks. So this week, I decided to remedy that. With it being Christmas time, what to play was an easy choice.
As I played through several old Christmas hymns, the word balance kept coming to mind. No matter the context, there are always notes, voices, instruments, rhythms that need to be heard above the rest. And quite often, that spotlight is shared, giving others a chance to be heard.
Even though one voice might not be the momentary focus, it remains essential to the music. Where would that melody be without harmony? Or that jazz riff without the brushes of the drum floating behind it?
When I sat down to play this morning, I began by playing the hymns as written. Though tempting, I did not add any embellishments. My goal was to play so that the melody rang out clearly, while the harmony provided support.
After reading the music as written, I went back and added new rhythms, patterns, harmonies while keeping the melody clear. Both versions required the same thing-balance.
I have said this before, but the only time my brain is calm is while I am playing the piano. Somehow, it provides an inner balance. There is that word again. Outside voices are quieted. Worries of the day temporarily disappear.
Music reminds me that I do not need to raise my voice above the crowds. Although I may have something important to say, unless it is balanced with love for those in hearing range, I should probably remain part of the harmony.
Harmony-that is my prayer for this Christmas. For there to be less shouting and more listening. That we may experience joy amid our sadness. And hope that outweighs our fears. Merry Christmas!
Please enjoy a few Christmas carols! ❤ Kelley Morris, piano
What Child is This?I Heard the Bells on Christmas DatCome Thou Long Expected JesusHark the Herald Angels Sing
Stare deep Not a quick glance But a look requiring Thoughtful Contemplation Not judgment Tempted to focus On those wrinkles as Merely a sign of age- Instead, appreciate Their true origin Their significance- For others have Followed the map Of experience Those lines Lovingly display- Before walking away Take one more look Acknowledge The bright light That is your eyes Knowing it has Secretly guided Many, though you Remained unaware
Today is day one of year fifty-three! How is that possible? And my oldest son, who was born on my birthday, turns 26!
Teaching school on your birthday means lots of kids asking, “How old are you?” I always make the older ones do the math. But if youngers ask, I just tell them.
Their reactions are precious! And good for my self-esteem. At least one will say, “Oh, you look a lot younger than that!” 😉 Of course today, one also mentioned that 53 was almost 100!
Birthdays are a time for celebrating and reflecting. And I have definitely felt celebrated! I suppose this poem is my reflection. ❤
Digging Holes
Some days I am Tempted to dig Holes deep in The ground Deep enough To bury regrets Yet, experience Teaches that will Only leave behind A landscape marred By mounds of guilt- Perhaps planting Would be a better Choice than burying- Sowing seeds Of encouragement Instead of judgment Acceptance instead Of comparisons Recognizing that Each of us has Holes we could dig Regrets we could bury But we also have The power to help Fill ones scooped Out by others Tending a landscape Covered by the beauty of Love and understanding
How many things Have I missed On daily walks Thru the house Across parking lots Up and down School hallways I’m certain there Are others walking The very same paths Sometimes I see them- Really see them Past the superficial How are you? I’m fine But other days The path becomes So familiar I simply stroll Looking down Focused only on The thoughts inside My own head- Oh, to not miss again The things I’ve missed before
Traditions washed away Left with a choice- Create new ones Or spend hours Grieving the old Left with a choice- Sprinkle drops of Sadness on those I love or shower Them with love That transcends Traditions Left with a choice- Allow the temporary To weigh down or Be lifted up by Treasures of The heart Mingling joy With sadness While celebrating The mysteries of Faith, hope, love Family, friendship- Understanding Today’s choices Will become Tomorrow’s Memories
Everything a chore Getting dressed Dishes, laundry Talking, smiling Each takes an Effort beyond The necessary Every day is Not this way But today… It is my reality Trusting that Giving voice To the internal Though difficult Will bring relief And if not for me Possibly another Not yet able to Express their struggle- Finding strength In good company
This poem was an attempt to give words to a recent low period. And though I am feeling better, I accept that it will not be my last. Such is this life. I share because it is so important to know we are not alone-even at our lowest. ❤
Piano Girl 