Life Happens. Live it!

So very proud of my friend Jake French. I knew him when he was a young lad hunting, fishing, snowboarding and chopping wood. His family lived near us in rural Oregon. He was a non-stop active kid with an amazing ‘I can do anything’ smile. He still has that smile, even after a tragic accident paralyzed him from the collarbone down in 2008. His life happened and he is living proof one can live life to its fullest, infused with optimism, no matter the daily obstacles one encounters. Go Jake! You’re my hero!

His book is available on Amazon

Parque Kennedy – Cats Rule

Cats, Parque Kennedy, Lima Peru

Lima Peru public park where hundreds of cats are adored and taken care of daily with food and water. And care if needed. Perfect place to sit and get your cat energy renewed. A treat!

Cats, Parque Kennedy, Lima Peru
Cats, Parque Kennedy, Lima Peru image
Cats, Parque Kennedy, Lima Peru
Cats, Parque Kennedy, Lima Peru
Cats, Parque Kennedy, Lima Peru
Cats, Parque Kennedy, Lima Peru
Cats, Parque Kennedy, Lima Peru
Cats, Parque Kennedy, Lima Peru

 

 

Good Morning Diego Garcia—Excerpt Chapter 16

“I watched Alon and Dylan take in sails and lower the speed.

Another storm! More bashing waves. I sighed. Wish I could flap my wings and fly to the closest strand of land. Best to grab my book and move back inside to stay safe.

“We’ll ride them,” I heard Dylan say as I went below.

I returned to our room. Charles was nowhere in sight. He must be using the bathroom. I waited.

Wild waves hit us from all different directions and thrashed the boat about. I sat on my bed and listened to the alarming bashing sounds. Would the hull hold up? With all this stress?

I heard a gagging sound coming from the bathroom. Charles was retching. “Heaven help us,” I said out loud. Poor Charles! Bad enough to be depressed. Being sick on top of it all? I waited to see if I could help him.

After more vomiting, he staggered out of the bathroom looking pale.

“Can I get you anything?” I asked. “Ginger tea is good for the stomach.”

He waved me away and crawled back into his bunk.

I waited and watched the violent storm spin around us from our porthole window. It slapped us side to side with blasts of wind and pounded us with mountains of waves. My perspective shifted and in an instant I saw myself and the world in a different way. Perhaps I wasn’t atop an ocean on planet earth. Perhaps instead I sat in a turbulent area outside the atmosphere of earth? Perhaps in a vast field of past and present time in deep space. And how did my soul fit into this grand scheme called life?

Dust to dust took on a new meaning. I saw myself as a tiny speck of matter temporarily filling a space while living on earth. Absolutely scared to death, I felt more alive than I had ever felt. My senses were heightened to a whole new level; a new and different perspective of my finite reality. I felt a unique awareness beyond the normal five senses; an awareness on a higher level of understanding.

I thought of my upbringing; raised in a religious home, my parents instructed me to ask God for guidance for everything. Now I found myself asking myself for guidance. A voice told me to shine a positive light of energy around the boat to protect us. The message rang true. So I did.

In that moment, when everything looked upside-down and inside out, I sensed that everything was fine—just the way it was meant to be. Would this ‘positive energy’ be my savior?

By facing reality head on, I was discovering the meaning of living life to its fullest with senses wide open to listening and learning. Being aware, I felt empowered by the hum of nature and collective unconsciousness. It was a soothing song.

Giving Thanks for Good Friendships!

My friend Betty is arriving tomorrow for a five day visit. She is an American woman I met while studying Hebrew in Israel in the late 60s. Haven’t seen her since 1974, following the Cyprus War. It’s exciting to know we can share those “Remember when?” moments and celebrate being together.

Not sure she will recognize me when we meet at the Montevideo port tomorrow morning. Perhaps a “Welcome Betty!” sign will jar her memory. There aren’t many woman named Betty in South America.

Welcome BettyQ
Welcome Betty!

Take a moment and give thanks for your good, long-lasting friendships! Mine inspire me. I am blessed!

We Love Memoirs Day–Monday, August 31

Mon 31st Aug, 2015 will be We Love Memoirs Day!

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We Love Memoirs was set up on 31st August 2013 by two memoir authors, Victoria Twead and Alan Parks, who wanted to create a place where memoir readers and authors could come together and chat. Victoria Twead is a New York Times bestselling author of “Chickens, Mules and Two Old Fools” and the “Old Fools” series, while Alan Parks is the author of “Seriously Mum, What’s an Alpaca?” and the “Seriously Mum” series. Victoria and Alan were determined to foster a warm community and have always discouraged authors from pushing their own books at readers. The results have been astounding, and WLM has grown quickly. New friendships are formed every day, and WLM meet-ups across the globe have become common. Small wonder that the We Love Members community – which can be found here – is often described as “the friendliest group on Facebook”.
Join the conversation!
Thanks!
Susan Joyce

A Serendipitous Life

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Something serendipitous happened to me yesterday. I often seem to make fortunate discoveries at the right moment. Perhaps that’s because I learned to think in terms of serendipity early in my life.
My great aunt Gladys, a world traveler, introduced me to the word. I loved saying “ser·en·dip·i·tous!” It had a lyrical sound, expressing imagination in a beautiful way. Aunt Gladys explained its origin in a Persian fairytale called “The Three Princes of Serendip.” Sons of Jafer, the philosopher-king of Serendip (ancient name of Ceylon, now Sri Lanka), King Jafer insisted his sons receive the best book education from the wisest men in the kingdom and required them to travel far and wide in order to learn life lessons first hand by observing the customs of other cultures. So they traveled, not in search of riches but rather in search of fortunate discoveries about life through their keen observation. A journey of discovery.
Until yesterday, my new book (about my travels to India, Sri Lanka, Diego Garcia, and the Seychelles) had a working title of “Sandalwood Sanity and Diego Garcia–A Journey of Discovery” But yesterday while working on notes from my travel journal., I realized I had heard radio announcements coming from Diego Garcia days before actually seeing land. My scribbled notes were about a DJ named Aceman who broadcast live reports from American Forces Radio Diego Garcia at 1475 AM. After treacherous days at sea crossing the equator, Aceman’s announcements kept hope alive of reaching land and being able to make repairs on a badly damaged yacht. My notes also detailed “crushed coral paved roads” on the island. While researching the coral paved roads, serendipity led me to a site where sailors stationed there in 1975-76 reminisced about life on the boot-shaped atoll. Sure enough the roads were paved with crushed coral. One entry on the site was from Aceman and it showed his email address. I was thrilled as I always wanted to thank him for his fun broadcast.
I sent Aceman an email and received a prompt reply. He is indeed the DJ who said, “Good Morning Diego Garcia!” In light of this new serendipitous discovery, my book will now be titled, “Good Morning Diego Garcia!” Thanks Aceman!

Going Home

 

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Returning home after being away is always thought provoking. For me anyway. My husband and I have just returned to our home in Uruguay after a cruise on the Alaska Inside Passage and a visit with our son in Arizona. Following our arrival in Uruguay, I expressed feeling grateful to be blessed with a comfortable home and loving animals waiting to welcome us. Over the years, when I’ve returned home to various places around the globe, I’ve scribbled notes in my journal of my diverse thoughts about going home. Each time I’m aware that I see ‘home’ in a different light.

When I lived in Germany on my own in the late 70s, I discovered Dory Previn’s music and rediscovered myself after a painful divorce. One of my favorite songs was from her album “Mythical Kings and Iguanas (Going Home is such a Ride).” Her sad but realistic lyrics tell about “a low and lonely ride.” I knew that feeling. The song comforted and inspired me, and I sang it often when I would first arrive home from a journey.

A prolific singer and songwriter, Dory Previn was queen of the seventies confessional songwriters and her honest words and music struck a clear chord that resonated deep within as I searched for meaning in personal relationships and the absurdity of the world around me. My life seemed calm compared to Previn’s troubled one but I found her irony in dealing with religion (she was raised in a strict Catholic upbringing) and psychology most refreshing. Seems she was rediscovering herself as well. I read once about her live performance at Carnegie Hall and how a whole row of nuns got up and walked out when she sang her song, “Did Baby Jesus Have A Baby Sister.” I laughed out loud. Seems the audience did as well.

As I wandered up and down the stairs of my life in Germany and learned to release losses and embrace new horizons, I felt grateful to Dory Previn for her pure and profound poetry encouraging me to dive to the bottom and go “down, down, down where the Iguanas play.”

Thank you Dory Previn for teaching and reaching me.