This years love…

This morning someone surprised me. And made my heart sing.  When I opened the door to my Jeep, there was a small gift bag on the driver’s seat. Inside, a heartfelt card, and a CD.

Track 8: This years love

Track 8: This years love

A CD that someone had spent time last night finding after the song spoke to him, reached his heart.   And standing there wrapped in his arms this morning, listening to the lyrics, it reached my heart to.

Now, I’m not too good at getting lyrics right, but I know in my heart that this years love  really will last.   And, I’ve looked up the lyrics to make sure I’ve got them right, because it means so much to me.  This gift took me completely unawares, brought tears to my eyes.


And, this man has truly swept me off my feet… he’s the one that holds me in his arms, listens to my dreams, my hopes, my fears.  He’s the one who laughs with me, who cries with me, and is learning to communicate with me.  

Yes, this years love is worth fighting for, is worth losing control for, and is so so sweet.

Steven, thank you so much  x x x 

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What is life really about?

It’s a big question… what is the meaning of life? What makes me genuinely happy – a happiness that flows effervescently from within me?

Just because someone is good at their work doesn’t necessarily mean they love it. And money certainly isn’t everything.  When it comes to it, it’s the people you meet along your journey of life that matter the most.  Family, friends, colleagues, acquaintances…. special people that touch your heart in ways you least expect.

And yet, sometimes it’s hard to discover what’s important. Life is about experiences, friendship and love.  And sometimes its unexpected experiences that really shape your life.  Like Boston.

A tragic day

A tragic day

It’s taken a bit of time before I was ready to share this experience, filled with pure emotion.

April 15th, 2013 is a day most Bostonians will never forget. Patriot’s Day, to mark the Anniversary of the 1775 Battles of Lexington and Concord; and the day of the Boston Marathon.

That afternoon, sitting in the park having eaten a late lunch, I was truly world watching.  My feet were tired having walked just 5km in heeled boots.  I was feeling completely indulgent in my decision to sit and watch, rather than walk the remaining three blocks to the finish line.   And so I sat and watched the runners wrapped in their thermal blankets after they’d finished the run, walking proudly with family, friends and supporters though Boston Common.  The elation on their faces, the achievement, the numerous photos in the park, testament to their achievement that  they’d conquered 42km of Boston roads.   

Sadly, there were another 5,700 runners that never had the chance to realise their dreams.  The tragedy that struck the finish line, people’s lives ripped apart by two bombs exploding just before 3pm.  264 people injured; 3 people tragically lost their lives.

A decision to rest, to people watch, was unknowingly one of the best decisions I could have made.  That decision kept me safe, yet in a state of confusion as awareness of the tragedy was realised.

People’s pace quickened, their faces filled with anguish; in a moment of panic, I stopped a couple with tears on their faces…. and in that moment, I have never felt so alone.  To be in a city with no family and no friends was a truly hollow feeling.  I was a scared rabbit in the headlights; a small fish in a huge ocean; trapped and stranded at the hotel as the city’s transport network came to a grinding halt.

I can only thank the hotel doorman at the Hyatt Regency, Boston, for his concerted efforts and commitment to ensuring my safe travel to the airport by a much waited for taxi. And, to the two runners that shared that taxi ride with me; a ride that passed in a blur of tightly held back tears.  Their joy at completing the marathon darkly overshadowed by an unexpected event that will forever hold a dark cloud over that day.  But, at least they were going home.  Home to loved ones.  Home had never felt so far away…

How quickly life can change… Some things in life are so important…  to tell someone you love them… to smile… to hug… and to spend your life doing things you truly love.

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A very special day…

Today someone sent me flowers… and yes, it made my heart sing. These flowers weren’t just any flowers, but beautiful roses with gypsophila, and beautifully arranged and carefully delivered by special courier from a florist an hour out of town.

special flowers from a special person...

special flowers from a special person…

What was more important was who the flowers were from, and the special heartfelt message that was written on the card.  Pure surprise, joy and delight.

It made my heart sing, because the roses and sentiments were an unprompted sign that a fledgling relationship was more than just a friendship. And cemented my place as a ‘girlfriend’.

Yes, it is Valentines Day today; millions of girls all the world over will be receiving flowers… but none as special and well thought as this delivery addressed to me.

Thank you Behly x

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The depth of emotion

On Saturday I experienced some of the history that abounds in London… and was astounded by the absolute depth of emotion that washed over me.  Heading to Greenwich  Meantime, a kind Scottish gentleman visiting the Cutty Sark recommended I visit the Chapel and Painted Halls at the Old Royal Naval College.  In his lilting accent he said he was sure I would appreciate the beauty and history attached to the place.

What he didn’t say was how deeply moved I’d be… almost moved to tears, particularly from the moment I entered the chapel.  To experience the place is an understatement.

This chapel was truly testament to the devotion and love that generations past had.  The beauty was worship in itself and I could only imagine how moving a service would be in this chapel.

Surely when the organ played it would be as if angels were singing from the heavens above. And, as the sun shone through the windows, the place filled with warmth, as God’s radiant love shining on all those within.

Faith is the substance of things hoped for; the evidence of things not seen.

 

The passion, the love, the joy, the beauty… each moment spent in the chapel was a moment closer to letting go of the stresses of the past few days.

And, the statues in the foyer, gave pause for reflection, for considering the true meaning of life, of God’s presence, and of the importance of family, love and peace.

To sit and contemplate in such a place of awe was to really start to understand the evidence of things not seen, and to believe in the substance of things hoped (and prayed fervently) for…

What better way to stop and smell the flowers following a somewhat tumultuous week…

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A simple pleasure

Every since I’ve had my house I’ve been wondering about a lamp for the coffee table.

And finally I found it! Something suited to my roughcast, 50′s house.  A lamp with style, design and a ‘look’ unique to  the 70s. And with a lot of interest on Trade Me. Bidding was intense in the last 2 minutes, price rapidly rising closer to my limit, but finally it was mine.

And it looks perfect.

Perfect during the past two days of rain and wind, sitting by the fire with the soft glow of the lamp creating a cosy ambience on a winter’s afternoon.  Perfect for relaxing with a book, and perfect for soft lighting while having a cuppa with a good friend.

It really is the simple things that can create much pleasure.

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Cats are onto something!

How often do you see a sick cat? It’s something I’ve been thinking about the past few days as I battle a chesty cough, sensitive ears and congested sinuses.  My body is definitely telling me something, but it’s about time I listened!

Cats really do know how to enjoy life

Just look at George… he knows how to stop and smell the flowers (or lax out in front of the fire). And, he’s looking pretty good for a 12 year old cat! Why is it that it takes a serious cold/flu to shake me up and slow me down?

So, for the last few days, I’ve pulled out Wendyl Nissen’s “A Home Companion” book and found the recipe for the Cold Potion (yes, feeling decidedly witch-like!).  But, with the cayenne pepper, ginger, garlic and lemon, I’m sure it’s got to be good for me, and surprisingly pleasant too. And, it’s reminded me to spend some time reading Wendyl’s blog www.wendylsgreengoddess.co.nz

 

And, while I’m not likely to get chickens in my backyard, I am inspired to reinvigorate myself with wholesome cooking and therapeutic gardening, as well as minimise chemicals with the natural (and aromatic) cleaning recipes.

Maybe something good does come out of a cold… I might not be smelling the flowers today, but relaxed by the fire… my cat, decadently stretched by the fire, thinks I’m onto a winner anyway!

 

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Surprises…

Sometimes life surprises you and can throw a curve ball your way. The unexpected, blurring what seemed clear.

Does it really matter if it’s straight…?

On the weekend I stacked wood. 3.5 cubic metres of it… and it took hours. My mum came to help me out, and instead of saying ‘thank you’ and appreciating the help, I was concerned about the shape of the stack – that it was straight and still looked good. In reality, did it matter…? What was important was having some companionship, some company and sharing the stacking.

It’s not just stacking wood that’s thrown a curveball this week, but relationships too… some people exit your life, then drift back in, for seemingly unknown reasons… just to complicate things. And, it’s a jolt to appreciate those you have around you – some that may not fit the mould, or conform to ideals and a preconceived image…

I’m learning that time uncovers the ‘real’ person behind an image.  There’s no rush… it’s important to enjoy the moments, take the time to explore and learn about someone. It’s all part of the fun.

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