Skinny Dipping

Last night I did something I had never done before. It was something on my personal "Bucket List". Now I have had a Bucket List long before the film starring Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman was ever released. In fact I didn't call it a Bucket List, I didn't call it anything. It was simply a personal "to do" list I had in a bound journal that sits on the desk in my office at work.

Up until recently my personal Bucket List, for the most part, contained locations I wanted to visit, Umbria, Italy, Mount Rushmore, County Mayo Ireland, Napa, California. It was a sort of travelogue if you will, a map of places I wanted to visit. Following a life changing experience, my personal Bucket List underwent a dramatic revision. It now focuses on experiences, things that would impact me in a personal way, enrich me. It has more to do with living life than visiting one. I still want to visit all of the places on my previous list....but now I am more focused on what I am doing rather than where I am going.

Last night I decided I was going to go for a swim. It was late, my son was asleep in bed, no one else was at home. My 24 year old daughter had just come in from a Brad Paisley concert. I was heading out the door to the pool area when she asked what I was doing. I told her I was going for a swim and to join me. She didn't want to swim but wanted to sit with me.

When we got out by the pool I told her to leave the lights off. I was wearing a bathrobe and nothing else. I told her that I had planned on skinny dipping for the first time in my life and if she didn't want to see her mother naked she should not look while I got in the water. Her jaw dropped. She was speechless...she asked what was going on with me. I simply told her that was doing something on my Bucket List and slid into the water.

I felt wonderful! Alive! Invigorated! I swam the length of the pool and back listening to my daughter's laughter ring out. I swam to where she was sitting and asked her to join me. She said no and kept laughing. I told her how good I felt, how I had always wanted to swim naked and how wonderful I felt in that water.

I asked about her own Bucket List...asked if she had one...and indeed she did. She told me a few of the things she had on hers, and like my old list, hers was a series of vacation spots. She asked then about mine. I told her, quietly and personally, some of what was on my list. I told her how my list had changed, mostly because I had changed. I talked about what things I wanted, what things I had not yet done. I talked. I had never talked to her like that before.

It's not often a child sees a parent naked. Stripped bare both figuratively and metaphorically. I had bared myself in body and thought. Shown myself without artifice, decoration and embellishment. I let her see me...really see me as a person and not a parent. I told her what I had hoped for in life, what I wanted and what I wished for. It was a moment I'll not ever forget.

I was not bothered that she did not join me in my skinny dipping. Not in the least. At 24 she's just not there yet. She doesn't see life the way I do, had the experiences I have had. She doesn't know the importance of having some experiences or know what experiences she really wants. She's not where I am. She has a whole life to live yet, her own self to discover. She is not ready to bare herself quite yet, not even to herself. Oh but she will ...she most certainly will. Someday.

Indeed.

Compliments.....

Compliments


Compliments are nice to receive. We always feel special when someone compliments us. It's an acknowledgement, a validation, a stamp of approval of sorts. We feel good when we get one, we feel a boost, walk a little taller. A compliment can break a mood, turn us around, change our outlook briefly.

We all accept these compliments in various ways. Some of us accept them with graciousness and pleasure. Some with suspicion, with an eye on lurking ulterior motives. Some with disbelief, almost a feeling of unworthiness. Some with surprise and delight and some simply take them at their face value. I am delighted by the compliments I receive, usually gracious in my acceptance but as I have grown older and wiser I tend to consider the source of that compliment. I have discovered, again quite recently, that some compliments are given solely as a way to ingratiate, to make the giver look good. A false compliment I would think.

I have never been stingy with compliments myself. If I like something I say it, if I think a person has done something special... I say so. Giving a compliment is a gesture of generosity, a kindness, and sometimes a person desperately needs that boost a compliment can give. I know I often do. I can think of days that nothing seemed to go right and out of nowhere someone will say, "I am glad I ran into you, you always make me smile." Immediately I will feel good, perk up, walk a little taller. My own compliments are sincere and heartfelt. I mean it when I tell you what I like about you, what I think is special about you. I mean for you to feel good, know that I think you are special.

I have been often complimented in my life... about everything from my appearance to my sense of humor. Hearing that I look pretty, have on a nice dress, smell good... is nice and I am not above wanting to feel attractive, feel a bit of superficial stroking. But these things aren't really what I am about, what I want to be thought of as, how I want to be perceived. I graciously accept such compliments but I don't dwell on them. They don't turn my head so much as one might imagine.

I do receive many compliments on my words. People will tell me they admire something I've written, something I've said. My favorite compliment is one I hear often, I love how you think. I never tire of that one, nor it's giver. I am touched deeply when I am told my words affected someone else, that a person had a reaction to what I've written or said. It's more personal to me, more intimate. So it is in this area, a very personal one for me, that I am wary of a false compliment. It is in this area that I am stung most by an insincere platitude.

I have found a surefire way to avoid that sting or at least detect the falseness of it. I look to the behavior of the giver, how they act toward me, how they follow up that compliment. It's very easy to tell someone what you think, feel. It's quite another to show them. Actions speak louder than words......

I think it bears repeating......actions speak louder than words.

Indeed

Same Time Different Year...

I have been very quiet these last few weeks. My thoughts turned inward, reflecting on what might have been. Reflecting more on what turned out to be, on what is yet to come. For as much as I resisted and tried to push these thoughts from my head they have prevailed, they have made their presence known in precise terms. I was not to escape them. And rightly so.

I had to commemorate a certain sort of anniversary this past week. It was not the sort of anniversary warranting a card or gift certainly. I received no flowers, no special dinner. It was the anniversary of the day I was to face my own mortality. A day, for my life to come, that will never go unacknowledged. Ever.

It's funny how you imagine you will handle some of life's challenges. We all imagine the scenario of the physician telling us that we have six months to live and we let our minds wander to what we would do with those last six months. I know I have thought about this. But what of being told you have a few hours to live? What then?

Having come out the other side of a devastating situation, having beaten odds and earning a spot on the one in a million team, I can tell you what you do during those hours...indeed I can. What is far more interesting, far more important to discover, however, is what is to be done with all of the hours that are yet to come. The hours, but for miracles and fate, are in front of me now.

Not a single one of those hours will be wasted on petty nonsense, gossip and destructive thoughts. Those hours will be filled with joy and pleasure. With love both given and received. With a firm resolve to live those hours and not simply pass them.

This year has been one of discovery, one of recovery and one of limitless possibilities. I will never again take for granted the notion of Someday. Someday is now. Someday is in my hands and Someday is mine to have and to hold.

I am holding on to Someday and I am not about to let go.

Indeed...

Sweet, Summer Soundtracks.....

I was at the beach this past week. I spent a part of each day, in a swimsuit, soaking up the glorious summer sun and swimming in the Gulf of Mexico. My tan is rich and deep, my mood energized, my soul fed, nourished and filled with sustenance. I live for that trip to the beach...I love it so. So many memories flood in.

While I lay on the sand, I thought about so many trips to the beach when I was younger. Trips to Wildwood Crest, NJ, Seaside Heights, Brigantine, Ocean City. Trips farther south to Ocean City Maryland and my favorite Myrtle Beach, SC. Wonderful summer sojourns, carefree summers, sun streaked hair. Heaven on earth for me.

As I lay back, I listened to the gulls and the surf. Unlike past summers of long ago there wasn't any music. Everyone had an iPod or mp3 player, private music, personal selections. I remember a Transistor Radio as a "must have" along with a bottle of Coppertone, a bright bikini, matching flip flops and Ray Bans. The radios tuned in to Top 40 hits on whatever channel we could tune it to. We'd lay back and listen to that summer's soundtrack. So much of my summer memory is tied to this music. Once back from The Shore, we'd listen to the same music at the local swimming pool, the hamburger stand, pizza parlor or ice cream stand. Those summers really did feel endless. Our worries were minor, our pressures as simple as our pleasures. We lived to hang out, date, go for rides around the lake, slow dance with older boys who wore weejuns and smelled of English Leather. We were happy, free spirited, fun loving. We traveled in packs, enjoyed to be part of a crowd that would pair off around sunset. We had a blast.

For as many things that might change for me, for as many things that might end....these summer memories will never fade. They are right at my fingertips, ready to be called up, conjured for a bout of reminiscing. I did so this past week.....many, many times. I listened to that eternal summer soundtrack in my head. I heard the music, the water, every delightful beach sound took me back. I conjured my young man, wearing madras shorts, crisp shirt, holding my hand for a walk on an evening beach. Stopping in a quiet spot to sit, I am nestled between his propped knees leaning back into his chest. He's pushed my hair to one side, leans in and rests his jaw on my collarbone. This feels intoxicating, cool air brushing along skin warmed all day under a hot sun. Quiet talking punctuated with the feel of masculine fingers slowly running back and forth on my forearm. He catches a waft of scent as he plants a soft, sweet kiss that catches me by surprise when I turn my head to say something.

Such nights should last forever but as all good things do...they come to an end. Tucked away in memories brought to life by the scent of sun tan lotions, sounds of rolling surf and music...the summer soundtrack. Wistful, lovely thoughts uncovered again for a sweet reliving.

Such nights should last forever....even now if only in our dreams....

Even better if dreams should come true....

Indeed.