Flap Your God Given Colors

Most of you have heard about the butterfly effect, right?   It is said that a hurricane’s formation is contingent upon whether or not a butterfly flapped its wings the week before.  Do you really think this is true?  Could a tiny butterfly have such an effect on the world? 

I think it’s a beautiful theory.  The potential devastation of a hurricane obviously isn’t beautiful, but the thought that something so tiny can have an effect on the world thousands of miles away, is.

photo credit

Think about it for one minute.  

Go ahead, I’ll wait.

A tender butterfly simply flitting its way around the garden daisies minding its own business, looking all lovely in its God given colors, lands on an open bud, rests a bit, then flaps its wings and is off to another garden around the corner.  Does it have any idea that it just created a hurricane?   I think not.

Now, think again.  (I know, asking you to think twice in a minute.  You had no idea so much would be asked of you today, huh?)

Think about this…

If you have a moment in the checkout line to say hello or compliment someone, do it.

If you have a chance to call an old friend you haven’t talked to in years, do it.

If you see the neighbor’s yard needs mowing and you’re mowing yours, mow theirs too.

If you run into someone at the gym who wants to chat for a few minutes, listen to them.

You might be the butterfly in someone’s day.  You might be that one positive word they really need to hear.  You might be the one who has a minute to hear their voice.  You might be the hug they need to brighten their day.  You might be their butterfly.

We have no idea the impact we have on others.  A small handshake or wave out the car window may create a ripple in the world that changes the course of the day in a positive way.

Today, I hope you will spread your God given colors and flap away.  You just might create a new ripple on the surface of this beautiful world we live in and touch someone’s life in a very profound way, just by being you. 

I Remember

I was upstairs in the bedroom getting ready with the tv on watching Diane Sawyer and Charlie Gibson on Good Morning America.  The boys were playing on the floor.  I had to sit down on the bed when I saw it.  Did I just see an airplane fly right into the World Trade Center? My first thought was about my two brother-in-laws who lived in the city.  I called my husband who was watching it at work.  I called my parents who didn’t have the tv on at the time.  I talked to my mother and father-in-law.  My husband’s brothers were fine.  Phone lines were down.  My father-in-law, told me to stay inside and not go out if I didn’t have to.   I didn’t leave the house.

We had just stood on top of one of the towers only six weeks earlier on the 5th of July. We were visiting my husband’s family and went into the city for the day. We wanted the boys to see the view from the top.  It was breathtaking.  Those pictures bring a chill to my body.

I sat with my mouth hanging open, staring at the tv for minutes before I could get up.  This wasn’t really happening was it? So many people covered in ash and running while papers filled the sky as if a ticker tape parade was about to start.  The tv coverage didn’t stop for weeks and was continuous, ‘round the clock footage of the scene for many days without a break.  

We were finally able to talk to my husband’s brothers and they were fine.  The line, however, of people looking for their loved ones and taping up posters was close to their home and stretched for blocks.  The smell was strong.  There was a grey sky for days.

I didn’t do much that day, except watch the coverage and switch channels from station to station to try and obtain more and more information.   I couldn’t wait for my husband to get home.  Why? 

Ten years has passed since that morning.  We have so much information about what happened, but still really no answers as to why.  Husbands, wives, mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, friends, lost their lives and for what? My husband and I have driven past ground zero.  It’s hollow.  It’s huge.  The space the two buildings filled was vast. 

I am somber today at the passing of this memorial day. For my generation, this is the “event” that we will remember where we were when it happened.  We will always remember the brave people who sacrificed their lives to try and save others. We will always remember the stories of survival and the stories of families who lost loved ones.   Let’s remember not only the people who’s lives were impacted, but remember that a peaceful world begins with each kind gesture or word that we utter.  Be kind.  Love each other as only we can do.  

My Not So Sweet Treat

I pulled into the parking lot at the high school yesterday to pick up my oldest son. Since there’s no locker space for anything (including books) I meet him after school to deliver his baseball gear, he grabs a quick snack and changes while we head over to the field for practice. 

If you’re familiar with high school parking lots, it’s a madhouse.   I won’t go into the details, as it’s just not interesting, but let’s just say it’s a little chaotic to get where you need to go.   I decided that I would arrive a few minutes early, to get a prime spot near the door and save him some walking.

Arriving early usually means I can read or listen to the radio quietly for a bit while I wait.   Today I had a treat.  

Three minutes after I pulled in, three students (I’m guessing who were seniors who got out earlier, or last year’s graduates picking up a younger sibling) parked along the side of the curb diagonally from me.  I quickly realized there would be no quiet reading or radio listening today.  Instead, I was treated to ten minutes of filth. I don’t even know where to begin to describe what I saw and heard.

Two girls and one boy proceeded to use language and derogatory slurs (I will spare you the details) that I have never heard the likes of in my entire life.  Not even on the worst COPS show where they arrest the drunks and bleep every word out were as offensive as their words. The music blared at full volume. The lyrics, which they were singing as loud and as annoyingly as they could, were repulsive. What mother and father actually approves of this type of music for their child to listen to? I mean really?   I could not believe what I was hearing.  Other parents quickly rolled up their windows.  I did not.  I wanted to hear them. I wanted to know what they were thinking. Why were they doing what they were doing? 

They continued to smoke their cigarettes and offered two other students to join in their obnoxious behavior, (thankfully which both declined.) 

I wanted to say something, but what?  Why even bother?   I didn’t want to make trouble for my son. 

What has happened to these lost souls that they had to be negative with every breath and word and display their ugliness for all the world to see?  Why this behavior?   Did their parents talk this way about others? Did they even know what they were saying? Did they have nothing positive in their life to be proud of?   How do these kids get to this place in their lives?  Why are these choices made? Are these the students that fell through the cracks and everyone gave up on? 

I had so many emotions as I sat in my car, but the feeling that hit me the most, was sadness.  It was obvious these children and they are still children, have no role models whatsoever and no one to guide or lead them in a positive way.  Truly sad to see.

I wish all children could be surrounded by people who love and care for them and who only want what is best for them, but sadly, this is not the case.   Our world is ugly sometimes and kids need guidance to help them filter through it.   They aren’t all ready to face the world at 18.

Change Is In The Air

Can you feel the breeze through the window?   I can smell the change coming over the mountains.  The leaves on the trees flitter with excitement as they begin their journey from the tree very soon.  Change is in the air.

If there were parades to usher in each new season, I’d be the president of the planning committee to welcome in Autumn.   I’d make banners to march through the streets welcoming warmer colors, long sleeves, hats and soft scarves.  We’d hear marching bands beating their drums giving the trees permission to put on their new colors. Neighbors would dress their pets as pumpkins and line the streets with all spice and sugar cookie scented candles.  It would be a glorious affair.

Fall is my season.  It should be call the season of Stephani because I feel alive when the temperature changes and the clouds park themselves in the sky and the breeze is cool.   Some people enjoy the trickling of water, the crash of the waves, but me, I can’t get enough of the sound of leaves blowing across the road and pavement.  They rush to get to their unknown destination. I can breath deeper.  I love the change in the air.

 

Soon the pumpkins will be sitting on porches and the scarecrows will be propped in the empty flowerbeds and hay bails will sit beside front doors. Changes to the front door décor will appear as the flowery wreaths are exchanged for leaves, grapevines and amber ribbons.   Change is in the air.

My windows are open and the fresh air is splendid.  The coolness covers me with a warmth I cannot explain.  Change is in the air.

Simply...Friendship

What does being a friend really mean? Does it mean you go shopping together?  Does it mean you text throughout the day?  Does it mean you laugh about the same things?  Does it mean you enjoy their company?  I think it can, but for me, I think it should mean a great deal more.

To me, and perhaps I’m not alone, friendship is sacred.  It’s a relationship you have with someone you trust to share your joys, sorrows and worries with and with whom you can truly open up and be yourself without judgment or criticism.

But.

There’s always a but, isn’t there?  But, what if your idea of friendship is different than that of your friend? Does it change the level of friendship you allow yourself to have with that person? Does it change what you choose to share with that person?   Is your friendship with that person adding a layer of care, concern and love that satisfies your friend’s concept of friendship, but not your own?   Is that really friendship then?  Is there really a definition of friendship?

Are there times in our lives in which our preconceived thoughts and ideas about friendship change?  I enjoy going shopping with friends or having coffee and chatting about this or that just like the rest of you, don’t get me wrong.  I agree, that’s a layer of the friendship relationship, but I also think that for friends to really be friends, there is a gifting of yourself, your time, your thoughtfulness, your appreciation, without being asked to do so.  It should be a want on your part to contribute willingly to the relationship for the betterment of the friendship.  Would you agree?  

I’m curious to know your thoughts and ideas about friendship.  I so treasure having a “comment” in my inbox from you, so please feel free to send me a note.  I hope that you will look at your friendships today and this month, and perhaps give them an extra glance.