I Forget to Remember

Jack Kerouac Road in Frisco. copyright Diane Ludeking 2010

I forget to remember that nothing is permanent.

I forget to remember how much I enjoy the therapeutic effects of essential oils and minerals.

I forget to remember how beautiful the Driftless Region is.

I forget to remember my gifts as a horsewoman, writer, teacher, friend.

I forget to remember that cayenne pepper makes my ears burn.

I forget to remember to laugh and cry.

I forget to remember to meditate, sweat, write and play everyday.

I forget to remember that consuming too much sugar is a slow death.

I forget to remember the rancid smell of puppy farts and the magical odor of jasmine.

I forget to remember the medicine in music and travel, friends and strangers, animals and nature.

I forget to remember that my body prefers raw, vegetarian foods and lots of pure water.

I forget to remember to embrace winter before the heat and humidity of summer.

I forget to remember that an acorn can only become a mighty oak.

I forget to remember that my barefoot shoes will give me the enthusiasm of a kid again only when I wear them.

I forget to remember the blessings of people I don’t see often enough.

I forget to remember the actual words to that song I love to sing.

I forget to remember that nothing is permanent.

You are a valued reader and friend, how can I help you know this?

I really enjoy reading your comments – please write your own version to “I forget to remember…”

I also invite you to share your favorite posts with friends and family or contact me to let me know what’s on your mind.

Blessings and Smiles, Diane

The Weight of Winter

Taken Christmas Eve two years ago.

The weight of winter is a comforter of snow in the pasture and an extra blanket on my bed.

The weight of winter is pine scents in my house and Carmex fumigated scarves.

The weight of winter reveals eagle nests in the tippy tops of trees and conceals extra pounds on my backside with layers of clothes.

The weight of winter talks emphatically about holiday spirit and whispers about seasonal depression.

The weight of winter is a crisp snowball upside my face and candy cane fingers.

The weight of winter is heavy canvas winter wear and lightly whipped eggnog.

The weight of winter makes getting to work a challenge and friendly gatherings worthwhile.

The weight of winter is bright from snow reflected moonlight at midnight and burning light bulbs at suppertime.

The weight of winter reveals the barren wooded trail concealed in summer’s lusciousness.

The weight of winter is dormant seeds and awakened sloth.

The weight of winter is the Big Dipper in the North and snowbirds in the South.

The weight of winter is warm breath on an icy window.

The weight of winter is a good book in front of the fireplace and a mischievous cat lap warmer.

The weight of winter is big holiday debt and little promises of spring.

The weight of winter is childish sledding splendor and grown up stress.

The weight of winter cannot be stopped but will end your plans without notice.

 

I would love to hear how you finish the sentence “The weight of winter…” in the comments.

Hibernation – Not an Excuse to Neglect Self

Until April 2009, I had lived in the Twin Cities area for the better part of the ten previous years.  News of significant snowfall there this past week got me thinking about hunkering down for the winter and entering a form of hibernation.  Although there’s only been a few sightings of snowflakes in the Madison area, my fuzzy ponies assure me winter is coming.  I pulled up the following poem recently and felt it fitting for the upcoming season – both internally and externally.

Awakening

by Diane Ludeking

A hibernating bear wiggles her toes

Slowly turns over and is attacked by a stretch

The most amazing, gratifying stretch

The kind that sneaks up on you wonderfully

And lasts a whole minute

Accompanied by an equally alarming, satisfying yawn

And random squeals and peels of delight

The most yummy way to greet the day

She picks herself up

Indulges in one more delightful stretch to the sky

And wanders outside

Blinking away darkness into sunshine

Blinking, blinking, blinking

Nothing is changing, she cannot see

Blinking, blinking, blinking

Vague shapes begin to reveal themselves

As withered, fruitless trees

Starving, frantic rodents

Skeletons of creatures that just couldn’t hang on

Grey, grey sky

Barren, barren land

This is not the world she exchanged for a nap

The most distressing sound she has ever heard

Startles her and brings her massive form

Crashing to the childless earth

Only the earth will not receive her

There is an unspeakable battle that ensues

Fangs, claws, blood, earth-shattering cries

That echo off the lifeless surface of her reality

Exhaustion, defeat, wounds, deep life-hungry wounds

Devour her and she passes alone into unconsciousness

Serenity greets her

And she lives there for a time

Surrounded by nothingness

It is revealed to her that the battle that nearly took her life

Was a battle with herself

The distressing sound that started it all

Had been building deep within her for a lifetime

And once it was freed

Everything worth hiding came barreling forth

Finally she had heard herself clearly

Felt the wounds deeply

Had seen the life she’d been living

Was a shadow of her true self

And was nearly destroyed by the truth of it all

As unconsciousness slowly returns her to life

A sense of wasted time gives her urgency

She jumps to her feet and takes off running

Only it feels like flying, soaring

Through fertile forests that house healthy creatures

Splashing through streams of life-giving water

Adventure of the most amazing kind

The alive-kind

The I-know-who-I-am-kind

There is no longer a need for hibernation

When illusions have been vanquished

And true self has been embraced