tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88904538638305937132024-02-19T17:51:45.998-08:00Letters to Elect LadiesLetters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.comBlogger30125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8890453863830593713.post-58355182083165063512015-09-03T10:17:00.001-07:002015-09-03T10:20:56.175-07:00Selah"Life attracts more life..." The narrator of the PBS special about the Great Barrier Reef was talking about the journey of a mega-school of tiny fish. I was preparing to leave home for the day; the program was keeping me company as I dressed. Hearing those words, my head snapped toward the screen, but my mind did not follow. It zoomed off into EverLand.<br />
<br />
I began to see the faces, hear the voices of the people who stir me with their presence and their wise words. Some are charismatic -- vocal and animated -- some are so quiet that they barely leave a footprint when they enter the room. Except on the soul. My spiritual ear, like Pinocchio's nose, grows exponentially when they start talking. I just <i>know</i> I'm going to hear something that will blow away the cobwebs and cleanse my palate...so that I can savor afresh the good of Life.<br />
<br />
They seem to have perfect timing, too, these Light-Bearing-Life-Givers, arriving just when I need an<br />
answer or a confirmation or an affirmation, as if summoned from my lantern. In our world's preoccupation with death and destruction, they are on a mission. Of restoration, strength, freedom, generosity, laughter, hope...<br />
<br />
Sometimes it doesn't feel like they know who they <i>really</i> are and what they <i>really</i> do, so embarrassed are they by my effusive thanksgiving. They just make it do what it do. Bring Life. Attract More Life. And make others' Lives grow and glow and go. Every. Single. Time.<br />
<br />
You make my day! Thank you!<br />
<i>Karen </i><br />
<br />Letters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8890453863830593713.post-42495698395404830332015-08-18T13:20:00.001-07:002015-08-19T05:34:22.955-07:00Bliss<div class="MsoNormal">
Today I turned off the air conditioner and opened windows in
every room. For some reason, the summer breeze reminded me of the apartment where
I grew up. My grandmother, our matriarch, would open our first floor windows
and tie back the curtains so that they would not blow outside (yep, no
screens). The gentle summer winds that blew through our home were so sweet that the
thought now brings tears to my eyes.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not particularly nostalgic, not one to yearn much for the
good ole days, but something about the breeze on my face took me alllll the
way back to simpler times. I was a child who was dearly
loved and well cared for even though my family was by no means wealthy or prominent. As the warm winds grace my every move
today, I feel like my six year old self who sat in a chair in the open window and poured all my love out on Summer (and dared not stick my head or hands outside!). <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Life has presented me with some strong challenges in recent years; some that are still being resolved as I write these
words. But I have seen the hand of God in ways that I might never have had
those “opportunities” not presented themselves at the most inopportune times. And
I realize afresh today that, through them alllll I have been so very loved and so
very well cared for. Just like that happy little girl who lived on South
Harper Avenue a long time ago.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Just had to say so,<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><b>Karen </b></i><o:p></o:p></div>
Letters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8890453863830593713.post-74591058136144980082015-07-29T07:32:00.000-07:002015-07-29T07:41:50.666-07:00Flip!<div class="MsoNormal">
My phone went dark. Just blank-screened me two seconds after
I looked at it for the time. I thought I’d missed the low battery indicator, so
I hooked it up for a recharge, to no avail. Soft restart; nada.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then I ask my millennial goddaughter for help and she
responds with “What did you <i>do</i> to it?
You need a flip phone!” What? I’m too S
M A R T for a flip phone. I mean, I don’t go blank when you look at me. If you
plug me in I charge up and do the doggone thing. I’m not busted after only
seven months of service. No, sirree. And
you don’t have to make an <i>appointment</i>
just to do your <i>‘genius</i>’ act on me.
Well, some of you do, but that ain’t the point. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The point is that it’s my smart phone that needs a flip.
‘Bout to get one too…<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Working my nerves,<o:p></o:p></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Karen <o:p></o:p></i></div>
Letters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8890453863830593713.post-92063026280197472622015-07-12T18:52:00.002-07:002015-07-12T18:52:34.850-07:00The Language of Your Future<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As the main character in the movie <i>Woman in Gold</i>, Maria, seizes the opportunity to flee Nazi-occupied Austria, she bids a poignant goodbye to her terminally ill father, speaking in their native tongue. At one point during their exchange he exhorts her in English to <i>“…speak the language of your future”</i>. A faith statement if ever I’ve heard one.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maria had to be quick-witted and surefooted to escape the soldiers who were in hot pursuit, when interrogated about her luggage at the airport. She had to be fully in the moment while holding the future in view. Or she never would have made it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It may be touch and go today. I might be in pain. Or fear. Or simply have the blues. I could be angry bordering on P.O.'d and want to let it rip on some deserving individual. And while I believe it’s important to live fully in the moments of each day, I also believe in tomorrow. That it will be bigger and better. That what I’m expecting is this/close. That looking inward and over my shoulder might make me miss my cue. That what I say along the way can make it or break it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Speak the language of your future. </i>It is the voice of my Father guiding me to destiny.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thankful,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Karen </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />Letters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8890453863830593713.post-66176754891582637682015-05-05T19:38:00.001-07:002015-05-07T04:19:21.569-07:00Happy Mother's Day, Toya Graham<div class="MsoNormal">
Toya Graham is my shero not because she checked her son during the Baltimore uprising, but because it is clear to me that that was not the first time
she had exercised her parental authority. If that were so, the whole world would have known it. How? By his
reaction.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I watched him very carefully as she muffed him. That 15 year
old boy is at least four inches taller than her; she had to reach up to land one upside his head. He could have hit her in the top of her head, pushed her down, or broke away running. He did not. He
tried to block her blows, an automatic defense response, but that’s all. Parents in communities all over America have been murdered by their children for far less than a swack upside the head.<br />
<br />
Her son's response tells me that Ms. Graham has always been on her parent-square. She
has been disciplining him in some way or the other since he was able to defiantly
tell her “No!” in his terrible twos. She's been training him to be a good citizen of the world since day one, even if he's not quite there yet. I’ll bet money on that. If that were not
the case, I guarantee you that we would have seen something quite different in
that video.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A few days later I watched their <i>World News Tonight</i> interview -- the embarrassed
son and the mothers’ mother. He was properly chagrined. She was calm and
poised and unapologetic. And I saw a family sharing with the world the love that they have for one another, albeit
with a new understanding of its parameters.</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
No, that was not the first time Toya Graham corrected her
son. And while I doubt that swatting is her only form of discipline, what I do know is what we <i>all</i> now know about the Graham family -- who the parent is in that home. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Would to God we could say
that for every household in America.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Happy Mother's Day,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Karen</i> </div>
Letters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8890453863830593713.post-13140991678453228212015-05-04T12:25:00.003-07:002015-05-04T12:38:51.967-07:00Finish Strong<div class="MsoNormal">
We all laughed at the video of the runner who began to
encourage the crowd to cheer his impending victory…slowed his pace…and was beaten by
the guy in second place who kept pushing to the end. He was the 21<sup>st</sup>
century edition of the tortoise and the hare. You know the story: Hot-Air-Hare
took off running and being so far ahead of his opponent, decided to stop for a nap. Steady-Freddy Tortoise did not change his pace or break his focus. And crept right past Hot-Air to the finish line.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Yes, I laughed but I also took heed. It ain’t over til it’s
over. Whatever it took to get here, is what it will take to get There. So
I’m praying for myself. For grace to finish. That
I won’t be distracted by a good report or a bad one or no report at all. That I
don’t change my pace just because I can see the finish line. That neither my
focus nor my resolve is broken by presumption or assumption. That I finish strong. Period. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I believe in celebrating small victories along the way, but
when you’re in the final lap the only thing that <i>really</i> counts is when you break that tape.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Press on,<o:p></o:p></div>
<i>Karen </i><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Letters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8890453863830593713.post-60401875056306858222015-04-16T19:26:00.004-07:002015-04-16T19:28:18.512-07:00Well Said<h3>
Say it straight, simple, and with a smile.<br /> --<i><b> Yogi Tea </b>(t</i><i>eabag tag</i>)</h3>
Letters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8890453863830593713.post-56600939802358965312015-04-13T09:27:00.001-07:002015-04-13T09:34:00.550-07:00Be Ready<div class="MsoNormal">
I heard the phrase again last night while washing dishes
and letting a television program keep me company. The rebels had committed to getting the hunted out of
the city. They knew who they were, what guerrilla tactics to use, what was at
stake. The only thing that could possibly go wrong was if those who they were
trying to help were not prepared.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Be Ready,”
he said, looking hard into the eyes of the hunted. He was saying “I got you.
Make sure you ‘got’ yourself.” This was the third time I had heard those two
words in as many months: amplified, emphasized, insistent. <b>Be Ready</b>. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Last week as I prepared for Easter Sunday service the DJ
played a song that arrested me with the first lyric, “<i>This is not the time to get distracted.”</i> I bought it immediately; <i>Your Destiny</i> by Kevin LeVar. By the end of the day, I knew the entire
song, verses, chorus, ad libs, everything. At the very
end LeVar says “My victory is days away, so I’m-a get ready…” He says “get" but the <i>spirit</i> of his declaration is "I’m gonna <b>Be
Ready</b> when it gets here. I’m not going to miss it or not know what to do
with it when it arrives.” <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Earlier this year my friend and I talked at length about the
difference between the two phrases, Get Ready and <b>Be Ready</b>. We laughed as we remembered how our parents would Be Ready at 4 o’clock for a 6 o’clock event.
My mother would be dressed to the nines and sitting quietly in the living room
chair, thumbing through a magazine; waiting, while we scurried around,
teasing her for being so <i>earrllly </i>and
talking about how we still had time to <i>get</i>
ready. She was never moved by our teasing; Mama was Ready. When we finally got our act together, my mother would
quietly arise from her chair, smooth her skirt, and proceed to the car. Unperturbed.
Self-possessed. She always seemed to get more out of the event than any of us.
Wonder why?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My friend’s father would also <b>Be Ready</b> two hours early; fussing until it was time to go because
he was Ready and what the hell was taking everybody else so long?! He was point-perfect
when it was time to pick her up from an event or take her mother out for the
evening or keep a promise to a friend. It was the same for work: he started
work at 6 am; he was Ready a 4 am. He, like my mother, was never late for
anything. Ready, they were. Always.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So here we are at the beginning of the second quarter of 2015.
It’s no longer a new year, but a year in gear and we’re expecting great things
to happen. Expecting to<i> make</i> great
things happen as we implement our plans and strategies. Good, good. Just
remember that the devil is in the details. Minor distractions can cause the
best of us to break focus, get off course, and get trapped in the maze-phase
of ‘getting ready’…<br />
<br />
...when the charge is to <b>Be
Ready.</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b>Ready,<o:p></o:p></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Karen </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Letters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8890453863830593713.post-82222596072859385182015-04-07T07:05:00.003-07:002015-04-08T10:54:11.447-07:00Spring has SprungFolks are working on their Spring gardens. To get pretty flowers and sweet veggies they expect the opposition of weeds and bugs. And deal with it. Denial and procrastination not allowed.<br />
<br />
You know where this is going…<br />
<br />
It may be worry or fear. Maybe it’s that old familiar anger creeping in. You thought you were over that thing… Or maybe it’s the tiny corner in your heart that’s still sore from being broken. Maybe you realize that you can’t quite trust the one you love no matter how hard you try. Could be that son or daughter you’re still pulling for, pulling through…and you’re getting...t i r e d... (How long? How long?). Could be you bore easily, become impatient and struggle to finish things. Maybe it’s food…a particular food that makes you crave more, eat more, weigh more and hate (yourself) more. Could be shopping or isolation or perfectionism or cynicism.<br />
<br />
You know where this is going…<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Spring has sprung and you’re ready for the New. I know I am. Having sown good seed for it, I have discovered that there are yet some things that need my attention, my focus. Things that need to be purged… fertilized… watered… watched…. <br />
<br />
Be vigilant,<br />
Karen<br />
<br />
<br />Letters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8890453863830593713.post-65450798619512308332015-03-05T13:40:00.001-08:002015-03-05T13:40:25.245-08:00Serendipity<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I keep going to the store and forgetting something that I hate
being without – hand soap, especially in the kitchen. It’s on my list but
somehow I keep overlooking it. Today, I finally got fed up with the dysfunctional
kitchen soap pump and decided to toss it. <i>What
the heck, I thought, there’s a pump full of liquid hand sanitizer in that
bathroom basket. I’ll just use that.</i> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It came in a gift basket that someone gave my daughter and somehow I
inherited it. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It’s been in the ‘someday’ basket in my bathroom for two years. I
reached in expecting </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">to pull up hand sanitizer and to my surprise, it was green
apple scented hand soap. Perfect for the kitchen. Yes, today was the first time
I read the label. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">First I chuckled and then thought began to form, <i>That’s what happens when you assume</i>… I
checked that thought. You see, I have decided to live above condemnation. You
know how we blame ourselves when we miss the mark, forget something or just
plain old mess up. There’s this chasm that opens up and invites you to jump in. Often we leap without thinking because, after all, I did mess up. Did the dumb
thing. Did nothing. We seem to think we have
to pay for every mistake, great or small. Not.</span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Although every little (or big) thing I do may not be good, performed
well, in a timely manner or correctly, <i>every single thing I do has an assignment:</i>
to work itself into the </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">big picture of my life. The one where I’m flowing in my
purpose and doing the most good for myself and others. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Some mistakes
are good for a laugh. Others are good for a lesson. Still others are for serendipity…a
nice surprise along the way, like that green apple hand soap. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Peace,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Karen </span></i></div>
Letters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8890453863830593713.post-60990016250370766282015-02-13T10:06:00.002-08:002015-02-19T14:24:14.948-08:00Pause and Think About It<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You don't have to hustle to flow.</span><br />
<i> Prophetess Katie Peecher</i>Letters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8890453863830593713.post-26314870949808976392015-02-08T08:15:00.000-08:002015-02-08T08:15:26.864-08:00Get On Up!<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When you arise, God will cause you to shine.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i> Joel Osteen </i></span><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Letters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8890453863830593713.post-39852567462220516172015-01-26T10:51:00.003-08:002015-01-26T10:58:22.451-08:00Pajama Day<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I’ve declared a Pajama Day. I searched my soul and every
room of my house to find a reason NOT to, but to no avail.
Not that there isn't plenty to do around here or no work deadlines. Just that they
don’t trump PJ Day. Not today.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It’s Monday, the arch-enemy of Pajama Day. And we
all know that most of the time Monday wins big time. Routine, guilt,
obligation, shame, paycheck are part of the Monday Gang and well, six against
one, who can win that battle? But every now and then…every once and again…even without the
help of an impending storm or a sniffle, PJ Day finds its super-power and
bamm! They lose.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We used to call it taking a mental health day, but frankly, I'm mentally quite healthy. I don't need a day to get my head together because somebody or something got to me. I'm good. All I need is to cozy up to a traditional work day, freshly showered and in my new PJs, and do NO work, guilt free. I mean NO work. Not housework. Not homework. Not heart-work. Not catch up work. Not work-work. None. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">That, my friend, is a Pajama Day.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Happy,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Karen </i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Letters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8890453863830593713.post-74193739599972849812015-01-19T11:04:00.002-08:002015-01-19T15:53:03.477-08:00Happy 2015!<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I decided to give myself a break and use the entire month of
January to get re-organized. Who takes on an organization project during the holidays? Okay,
not me. I was overwhelmed at the very idea of having to get it all straightened
out in the first few days of the year. So, I gave myself all month. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">February 1</span><sup style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">st</sup><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> is show time.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">How disorganized had I become? My dresser drawers were a
ball of confusion. Every. Single. One. Of. Them. Did I say that I did not care?
Not at all. After a bout with pneumonia that sneaked up on me and wore
me all the way out, all I cared about was clean linen and pajamas. It mattered
not at all which drawer they were shoved into. When I needed a pair of socks and found a mosh
of stuff in that drawer that included Christmas gift wrap, I decided that last Thursday
was the last day for that mess. Now every single drawer is in working order, with my
Christmas-present PJs sitting proudly in their rightful place. I do love my
PJs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Drawers organized. Check.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Don’t ask me how it happened, but I had this paper shopping
bag that was filling up with, well…paper. Bills, receipts, articles, cards to
be mailed, notes to self, etc. Writers are partial to paper, yes? I pay all of
my bills online, but I still get paper notices cuz I like it. I do. I digress. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A paper bag y’all. I’m embarrassed. I think it got started on
one of those pneumonia days when, after huffing and puffing and coughing my way
up 27 stairs, I just started throwing stuff into the first thing I could find.
Good thing that wasn’t a trash can. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I knew I was feeling better when the rustle
of that paper bag (hidden between my nightstand and bed) began to make my flesh
crawl. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On Friday I sat down and handled every piece of paper.
Trashed receipts. Consolidated notes to self. Opened envelopes. Found three, count ‘em, three
reimbursement </span><i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">checks</i><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> from my health
care provider. And two </span><i style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">credit</i><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> notices
from utilities companies. There’s the case for opening stuff and not throwing
it out ‘cuz it’s the third envelope from the same company this month (yes, each
check came in a separate envelope).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Papers organized. Check. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On to the main closet. Twelve days to ground zero…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Happy New Year!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Karen</i> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Letters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8890453863830593713.post-60107094380505942272014-12-08T10:55:00.000-08:002014-12-08T10:55:20.913-08:00Love, Come Quick…<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’m a Prince fan, and one of my favs is <i>Thieves in the Temple -- “Love come quick; love come in a hurry. …thieves
in the temple tonight.”</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That’s how I feel about the relentless barrage of holiday
hype. Christmas ads waaay before Thanksgiving. Stores open Thanksgiving Day and
all night long. Too many weeks of ‘how to cook a turkey’ on every cooking show.
Spoofs mocking families around the dinner table. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I sat looking at yet another ad for the best Black Friday
bargains, I began to feel…robbed. Thanksgiving signals the beginning of the
year-end holiday season, at least for Americans. It is a time for gathering, reflecting,
celebrating and being, well, thankful for oh so many things. While it takes
some jockeying to be inclusive of even the most difficult relatives, and although
this year may find you a little less equipped to host a big celebration,
whether for financial, health or logistical reasons, it’s still a time to
exhale the stresses of the past ten months and inhale the sweetness of the most
wonderful time of the year. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I don’t know that I care about the traditional reasons for
Thanksgiving…you know Plymouth Rock and all that rot. And my family situation
has changed so much over the years that I have had to establish a new tradition
almost every year, so it’s not that I’m bound to generations of tradition. But what I’ll always be committed to is the
spirit of the season, which is Love. All the grocery and gift shopping, all the
menu planning, all the juggling and jockeying, even all the overspending… is a
Love thing. It’s one of the few times a year that we take the limits off and <i>lavish</i> Love on our family and friends without apology. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Talking with others about how many people they have invited, which grandma they’re honoring by using her recipe, how many desserts,
how the biggest family is always early and always stays late…sometimes overnight, how
they have to steal a nap, the Soul Train line after dinner and before the
football games and on and on…these are what Love is made of. These are the
things for which I am, we all are, I believe, Thankful for.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I just wish the advertisers and the retailers who assault us
with their ‘clever’ ads while robbing their employees of precious family time
with holiday store hours would forsake their ‘thieving’ ways, stop sucking the
life out of the most precious time of the year and for the few weeks
that are the holiday season, be led by the Love that is the very heart of it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Love…come quick,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Karen</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Letters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8890453863830593713.post-53975235918174795822014-10-31T09:49:00.008-07:002014-10-31T09:50:23.152-07:00Hmmmm<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"What is right can never be impossible."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> <span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> Lord Mansfield in the movie <i>Belle</i></span></span>Letters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8890453863830593713.post-48264637302399538162014-10-27T13:48:00.001-07:002014-10-27T14:02:20.691-07:00What's in a Name?<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">There are only two of us left, my daughter and I. The last
of the Stark family. The last of </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u>this</u></span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
Stark family. My name-bearer brother went home to be with the Lord almost five
years ago. But that’s no reason to let our name pass away with him. This has
been my name for lo these many years and even when I’m married to the greatest
of men, I plan to keep it. So, I will be Stark-Whathisname. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">You see, I <i>like</i> my
last name. They tell me its origin is German and that it means “strong”. What’s
not to like? In English it is an adjective that means forbiddingly bare and
plain, unambiguous and harsh, complete, without clothes, and rigid. As an
adverb it means utterly, to the utmost degree. I like those definitions too, as
I have been all of them at one time or the other in my life. Like today, I’m feeling utterly and to the
utmost degree. Yes I am.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Friends have teased me about my name. One in particular
calls me Stark Ravin’. She tells the truth. I can rave about one something or
the other on a regular basis. But she never adds the final tag -- “Mad" -- so I don’t believe that she thinks I’m
altogether cray. That’s a good thing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Those who have really wanted to get under my skin have
called me Stark Naked, pun intended. I’m no prude, don’t mind being disrobed for a doctor,
masseuse or a lover, but otherwise I really don’t like people talking under my
clothes, thank you very much. So while I am utterly, complete and unambiguous, the without clothes things doesn't set well with me; especially not in mixed
company. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Most people add an “s” to my name, attempting to identify
me, along with them, as the property of the Stark’s plantation. While my family
probably was owned by ole man Stark -- after all, I am a Black American -- my
ancestors dropped the “s” for obvious reasons: <i>Y’all don’t own me no mo’</i>. Hence, I correct anyone who misspells or
mispronounces it -- S t a r k, no “s” on the end, thank you very much. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now this may have cost me some extended family because most
Starks are, well Starks, not Stark (naked and utterly ravin’). But some of my
could-be-cousins still embrace me as such (shout out to Tim and Marva) because
they get it: I can drop the “s” and still be in the bloodline. Come on
somebody.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And if this sounds like a rant to you, so be it. After all, we’re talking about <i>my
</i>identity here. All that said, I’ve decided to keep my name until God takes
me out of the earth. After all, it’s a good name because He, knowing I’d be
born for such a time as this, gave it to me via my parents. When He takes me Home, I’ll return
it to Him all wrapped up in a pretty pink package with a big silver and gold
bow and a beautiful handwritten note that says <i>With Love to You, from Your Daughter, The Strong, Forbiddingly Bare and
Plain, Unambiguous and Harsh, Complete, Without Clothes, Rigid, Utterly, To the
Utmost Degree, Karen the Stark.</i> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Needed a laugh today, </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Karen </span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Letters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8890453863830593713.post-68054766953057972602014-09-26T14:40:00.001-07:002015-03-22T15:00:51.324-07:00The Truth You Know<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I really do believe that all things work together for my good.
I believe that God has gotten me to the point where that is not just The Truth,
but MyTruth. And like it says, the truth that you <i>know</i> will make you free. That is to say, it will liberate you from
all the things that pose as truth – facts, experiences, advice, tweets – but bind you.
All the shoulda, woulda, coulda stuff.
That is not to say that we should be in denial about the consequences we may have to work through because of past decisions. But the bondage and limitations that come alongside a mistake, error or misstep, that’s the stuff crazy is made of! <i>That’s</i> the stuff we must absolutely be MadeFree from. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Getting to MadeFree is not the easiest trip. Looking your belief
system square in the face and discovering that most of it is somebody else’s
stuff; traversing the cycle of grief that ensues after the loss of ‘innocence’;
forgiving yourself and Them; resolving that even if you don’t know what to do
next, you ain’t doing <i>that</i> anymore; and all those stops in between make for an arduous excursion that
feels like it will never end. Worst part is, it’s a trip we have to take more
than once in a lifetime. And no matter how familiar it is, each time is every bit as
challenging as the first time. Yet it’s
the only trip worth taking over and over again.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Because each and every time you get to MadeFree, you discover
a more robust, whole and ready You. </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And who doesn’t want to be There? </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nothing missing, nothing broken,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Karen </span></i></div>
Letters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8890453863830593713.post-31045041495638999842014-09-17T11:41:00.003-07:002014-09-17T11:56:02.539-07:00Well Said<h3>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Pray. Prepare. Proceed." </span></h3>
<h3>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"> </span>Judith Jamison, Artistic Director Emerita, </span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater</span></h3>
Letters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8890453863830593713.post-61634963142897309552014-09-02T17:07:00.002-07:002014-09-02T17:52:00.103-07:00DeclarationI could never have been a spy or a black ops or counter-terrorism agent. For too many reasons, I know I'm not cut out for that kind of work. But oh how I appreciate the training and commitment and focus it takes to do it.<br />
<br />
That said, amongst my touchstone movies is the <i>Bourne</i> series -- <i>Identity, Supremacy, Ultimatum, Legacy</i>. The movies, not the books. I need the visual. Need to see him and rewind and see him and rewind and see him do the doggone thing (with the magazine, book, towel, ink pen, vodka, blind cords....I digress)! Of course, I know that the writers take poetic license with the action, but umph! I love it.<br />
<br />
I'm not sure if I'm more inclined to watch when I'm focused and flowing or when I'm way off course. Doesn't matter. All I know is that when I do, watching <i>Bourne</i> getting to the heart of the matter, exposing and defeating the real enemy, surviving the hits and getting his whole life back, I am affirmed afresh.<br />
<br />
Yesterday, the declaration he made in the<i> Bourne Identity </i>leaped off the screen and hit me my hallelujah place: <i>"I'm on my <b>own</b> side now." </i><br />
<br />
There. I said it.<br />
<br />
KarenLetters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8890453863830593713.post-17008299915824510032014-08-26T18:51:00.003-07:002014-08-26T19:23:32.055-07:00Change Your Mind<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It really doesn’t matter if you’ve thought that way all your life; whether you trained yourself to think that way or were indoctrinated by your family, friends, educators, church. It’s time to change your mind. Why? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Because your old mind is not ready for your new life. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Even if the way you used to do things worked. You had it right then. Got the desired results. Why ain’t it working now? Maybe the way you've always thought kept you on track, kept you sane, as it were. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But if your thinking is starting to drive you crazy, it’s time to change your mind.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">If you were taking a medication that used to work but wasn't as effective as before, wouldn’t you get to the doctor post haste? You have taken it every day as prescribed and have for years, but you just don’t get the results. You’ve tried to reason it away and say that it’s the weather, your eating habits, stress. But you know the stuff ain’t working. You need a new prescription. A change. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">You don’t really feel like going through the doctor’s checklist and follow up visits and the blood draws and the temporary adjustments until the prescription is just right again. But you did it before, gladly. Anything to be well.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Doesn’t your mind deserve the same…care? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Granted, no tiny pill will help with a mind change, unless the problem is chemical-clinical. (Is it?) There will be some trial and error. It will take some discipline. It will take some accountability, to yourself (daily journaling?), or perhaps to a trustworthy someone else. And it will take some time. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Some changes in behavior will also be in order. Maybe you need to put the word “no” back into your vocabulary. Or the word “yes”. It may mean speaking up instead of being quiet. Or being quiet when you're bursting at the seams. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It may mean writing your new affirmation-declaration out and reciting it every single day to stop the voices in your head – the old ones – from dragging you down into the pit. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Whatever it takes, it’s time for a change. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Old thinking cannot create a new life.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Change your mind.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">That goes for me, too,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Karen </i></span><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Letters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8890453863830593713.post-67643618709699710032014-08-18T17:01:00.001-07:002014-08-21T17:27:33.218-07:00Handle with Care<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Dear Ferguson, Missouri:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Every news report draws from my heart to my lips a new prayer for you. Today all I could utter was “Lord, help.” </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As a mother, I understand the grief that justice will only <i>begin</i> to relieve. As a Black American, I know racism at a cellular level. As a Boomer I remember how neighborhoods burned after Dr. King's assassination. I occasionally drive through some that have never recovered from that explosion-implosion. As a citizen of the world, I have been bullied and stolen from; I have fought back, run away, called the law. Most of the servant-protectors have treated me with great respect; others responded with an inordinate, palpable contempt even though I was not the perpetrator. I have been very grateful for and to the good ones and have prayed out loud to diffuse the provocation of those who were hell bent on using me to make their day. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As a writer, I need to say my say, but my say is no revelation: the Ferguson PD's press conference was too many days late and multiplied dollars too short. Because it was, there is no quick-easy route to restoration, redemption. This thing has to play all the way out. How I wish it was not so.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That said, I think I now know what to pray: that no more lives are lost in Ferguson; that wise, humble, honest, courageous and just leaders rise up and do the <i>next</i> right thing. And the <i><u>next</u> </i>right thing. And the <b><i style="text-decoration: underline;">next</i> </b>right thing for as long as it takes to heal their land. I will pray for Michael Brown’s family, but especially for his mother, that she will be comforted in her mourning. I will pray that none who advocate for her forgets that <i>hers</i> is the greatest loss of all. And I will pray that she is not exploited by anyone else's agenda, but that she will be handled with care. With great, great care. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sincerely,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Karen Stark</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">
</span>
Letters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8890453863830593713.post-18602230571068554852014-08-04T12:43:00.001-07:002014-08-04T14:56:56.848-07:00Dearly Loved<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I asked if he would do something for me. His lightning-fast
response was, “Yes”. I think my head
snapped back at his answer. Startled and chuckling, I murmured something about
wishing I had asked for ten grand or a new car. He did not flinch. Just sat
there smiling, waiting for my request. His response stayed with me all through
the movie I later went to see, and all through dinner, and it was my first thought
upon waking from a Sunday afternoon nap.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I racked my brain, but could not remember the last time I had
asked someone for a favor and they responded in the affirmative before hearing
the specifics. Most folks, including myself, present a caveat -- “if I can”,
“depends on what it is” -- and understandably so. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Why didn’t he? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Yes, he is family; spiritual family. I’d call him a nephew.
He is also a colleague; we occasionally work together. We’ve watched each other
grow and evolve and are acquainted with one another’s gifts and frailties. We
have a good and real relationship, but not the kind that would make me expect
such an unqualified response. He is a shrewd businessman and the type of husband
who honors his wife in a tangible way. Really, you could cut it with a knife. I consider him a heavyweight and would not have been the least bit offended
if he had asked for specifics before considering my request. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Why didn’t he? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I was baffled by this gesture that made me feel so
respected and so cared for and so valued and so beautiful and so necessary and
so trusted and so honorable and, well…so <i>loved </i>that an unqualified yes was the
answer he chose to give. And did not take back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">My request was by no means an unreasonable one; what I asked
for would benefit someone else. But what that person will receive at my behest
is not worthy to be compared to the great gift of love that was given to me
with a simple, unconditional “Yes”.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Humbly,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Karen</i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
Letters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8890453863830593713.post-5180408082613539962014-07-20T15:02:00.000-07:002015-09-03T10:23:10.355-07:00It's Only Time <div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A poem I once wrote ended with the line, “it’s only time
when you’re ready.” </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Let’s work the emphasis.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It’s <i><b>only</b></i> time
when you’re ready.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> It’s only <b><i>time</i>
</b>when you’re ready. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> It’s only time <i><b>when</b></i>
you’re ready.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> It’s only time when <i><b>you’re</b></i>
ready.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> It’s only time when you’re <i><b>ready</b></i>.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Doesn’t matter<b> how</b>
long it took you to arrive at your destination.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Doesn’t matter <b>what</b> you went through to get ready.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Doesn’t matter<b> what</b> time of day or month or which season it is. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Doesn't matter <b>what</b> age or generation of life you are in. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Doesn’t matter <b>who</b> says you are when you're not </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">or <b>who</b> says you're not when you are.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Doesn’t matter <b>why</b> you went through what you did</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">or </span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">how</b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> you got here </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">or </span><b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">wherever </b><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">you are </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>when</b> you discover that you are. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Doesn’t matter <b>which </b>word you put the emphasis on,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">or if you put it on none.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">All that matters is </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">that you know</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">that you know</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">that you know</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">that you’re Ready. Set. Go.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Go!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Karen </i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
Letters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8890453863830593713.post-25077310178236894492014-07-13T18:42:00.000-07:002014-07-13T18:48:20.115-07:00Take 45<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A magazine columnist asked a woman of 90+ years what advice she would give to younger women. Her answer: “When you get home, sit down for the first 45 minutes.” </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That ain’t easy. Not with dusty tables, text reminders to coworkers, stuff to research on the Web, laundry screaming from the hamper, and the eternal “what’s for dinner?” You have the same stuff – only different -- demanding your attention, so you know what I’m saying. We go from task to deadline to got-to to must without even thinking about it. And here’s a woman who has successfully lived for more than ninety years, in good health and of sound mind saying: stop and give yourself 45. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Her advice reminded me of a tactic my schoolteacher friend uses to transition her urban classroom when it becomes unruly: she holds up her hand, fingers outstretched so that you can count all 1-2-3-4 of them <i>and</i> her thumb and says “Everybody, stop and give me five!” It works. Her students know two things: 1) enough already! and, 2) she is about to tell them something very important, something they do not want to miss. It soooo works! I’ve seen kindergarteners to eighth-graders come to attention at her instruction. Once they’ve collected themselves, they make a smooth transition to the next thing. Sometimes all she has to do is hold up that hand to refocus the entire room. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Having seen what a full stop can do for a bunch of squirming kids, I decided to take the grand lady's advice. Now, whether it is midday or midnight when I get home, I sit down for the first forty-five minutes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The first few times I tried it I twisted my hair like a two year old because my hands were looking for something to….do. Sometimes I fell asleep. Sitting up. Sometimes I had to move from one room to another so that I wasn’t looking at the dust on the table. One day it dawned on me that if I took off my work clothes, it might be easier to take 45, so now I don’t start counting down until I have changed into my sweats. Sometimes I flip the pages in a magazine, but I do not read. I just look at the pictures and promise myself to make that recipe or stop by that store one day. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mostly, though, I let my mind do the thing it needs to do. Unwind. Daydream. Remember. After a few good minutes of that, my shoulders relax. Sometimes I start to hum a tune. There are even days that the answer to that nagging question begins to take form. It doesn’t happen all the time, but I don’t care. That’s the whole point: while I’m doing my 45, I am in the place where I am not care-full. No, it’s not mindful meditation. It’s just being there.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh yes, while I’m taking 45, I never, ever take a phone call or a text, although I will look at the phone in case it’s an emergency. Guess what? It never is.Occasionally my 45 turns into an hour or even two, but I’ve learned that when that happens it’s because I needed more that day. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today was a wonderful day. Good weather, good church service, good meal with good friends. You might think all that goodness was enough. Not so. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Today, I</span><i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> still </i><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">needed to take 45; to come to a full stop and just be. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, I did.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />Peace,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Karen </i></span><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
Letters to Elect Ladieshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02144648802378903880noreply@blogger.com0