Showing posts with label my writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label my writing. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 1, 2014
Rain
Life giving rain. Have you ever watched a tree right before a downpour? It’s leaves uncurl, growing large to drink up every drop of the rain to come. The tree releases an earthy, deep smell of need. It needs the rain to flourish, to grow, to create life. May you today seek the life giving rain, in order to flourish, ripen, and create life!
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
hmmm... Doing something aka learning to rest well
Why is it so hard to listen to my body and not feel guilty that I should be "doing something"?
I'm whipped today. I came home after fighting the white out snow. Not the brightest of ideas driving in those conditions. A 15 minute trip took an hour.
I slept on and off in the comfortable lazyboy chair snuggled under a blanket with Tink on my lap channel surfing and feeding the wood burner in between.
I've gone to bed early with a soothing rice bag on my neck. Yet something nags and I can't go to sleep yet. Somehow I don't feel like I've justified my down time. I didn't make use of my precious few hours and "do something constructive".
Why is taking care of myself and listening to my body when it says rest not enough? Why do I have to justify it? Who am I seeking permission from? Down time is important too. Maybe even first and foremost. It just feels strange.
I'm whipped today. I came home after fighting the white out snow. Not the brightest of ideas driving in those conditions. A 15 minute trip took an hour.
I slept on and off in the comfortable lazyboy chair snuggled under a blanket with Tink on my lap channel surfing and feeding the wood burner in between.
I've gone to bed early with a soothing rice bag on my neck. Yet something nags and I can't go to sleep yet. Somehow I don't feel like I've justified my down time. I didn't make use of my precious few hours and "do something constructive".
Why is taking care of myself and listening to my body when it says rest not enough? Why do I have to justify it? Who am I seeking permission from? Down time is important too. Maybe even first and foremost. It just feels strange.
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
wisdom
I think part of becoming wise its to find our feminine voice again. We had that voice, strong and wise, as children. As we grew, we accepted the wisdom of others and in the processes allowed our own voice, our own individual wisdom to be silenced.
As I age, I am finding that voice - my voice- and my childhood wonder again.
As I age, I am finding that voice - my voice- and my childhood wonder again.
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Possibilities
What do you dream of being?
The world of possibility lies not in "I can't" but in "I can"!
The world of possibility lies not in "I can't" but in "I can"!
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Happy New Year 2014
In this New Year may you...
Find new friends,
Strengthen old bonds,
Clear out the clutter and noise,
Make time to meditate, create, and heal;
Forgive yourself and others,
Enjoy your time with family and loved ones,
Make peace with youself,
Give back to our home - the Earth,
Share your love and feel it reciprocated threefold,
Find your heart, compassion, and love for our fellow man.
Diana
Find new friends,
Strengthen old bonds,
Clear out the clutter and noise,
Make time to meditate, create, and heal;
Forgive yourself and others,
Enjoy your time with family and loved ones,
Make peace with youself,
Give back to our home - the Earth,
Share your love and feel it reciprocated threefold,
Find your heart, compassion, and love for our fellow man.
Diana
Wednesday, May 22, 2013
Heart Song
Heart Song
05/22/2013
DRoof
My Heart Song
Floats on a breeze
Light as the wind.
Do you hear it?
My Heart Song
Drums its' own beat
High above the street
Do you feel it?
My Heart Song
Tender in the night
Seeking out a beat
Playing your song too.
Sunday, May 19, 2013
Homecoming
I'm coming home.
Coming home.
How profound. .
I've never thought of this in depth before.
It is my house? Possibly. i think today it means my physical home...my body. I think it also means recognizing my spiritual self and my journey on that path and how this all relates to my physical vessel.
It is about who I am and being comfortable in my oneness of self.
That is wayward journey. It means accepting all of myself even those parts I don't like, trust, or even acknowledge yet.
Coming home.
How profound. .
I've never thought of this in depth before.
It is my house? Possibly. i think today it means my physical home...my body. I think it also means recognizing my spiritual self and my journey on that path and how this all relates to my physical vessel.
It is about who I am and being comfortable in my oneness of self.
That is wayward journey. It means accepting all of myself even those parts I don't like, trust, or even acknowledge yet.
Tuesday, April 9, 2013
Early morn
The early morn smell of damp earth, not warm, but warming the burgeoning thrust of Life.
4/9/13
D. Roof
4/9/13
D. Roof
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Lincoln
He walks the halls of justice
In the dead of the night,
The weight of the unborn
Of a nation on his heart.
He walks the halls of the mansion
A new-born country to mend,
He knew the might of a nation
Depended on him.
He walked the halls of justice,
With his life he paid the price.
He walked the halls of justice,
Forever right.
1/27/13
D. Roof
In the dead of the night,
The weight of the unborn
Of a nation on his heart.
He walks the halls of the mansion
A new-born country to mend,
He knew the might of a nation
Depended on him.
He walked the halls of justice,
With his life he paid the price.
He walked the halls of justice,
Forever right.
1/27/13
D. Roof
Sunday, January 6, 2013
Acknowlege the Good
"...choose today to quench our thirst for the 'good life' we think others lead by acknowledging the good that already exists in our own lives. We can then offer the Universe the gift of our grateful hearts."
~ Simple Abundance: A Daybook of Comfort and Joy by Sarah Ban Breathnach
Gratitude. What is the meaning? Not superficially happy. Not just "lip service". True gratitude. The beauty of the day. No complaints superfluously lodged about the weather, the cold, the heat, the rain, the snow. True gladness for another glorious day to experience joy, love, happiness, no matter what chaos is spinning in my physical life. A conscious choice to get off the chaos merry-go-round and choose to be an expression of love, joy, and happiness in every moment. Like attracts like. I choose to attract good through my thoughts, actions, and attitude of gratitude.
~ Simple Abundance: A Daybook of Comfort and Joy by Sarah Ban Breathnach
Gratitude. What is the meaning? Not superficially happy. Not just "lip service". True gratitude. The beauty of the day. No complaints superfluously lodged about the weather, the cold, the heat, the rain, the snow. True gladness for another glorious day to experience joy, love, happiness, no matter what chaos is spinning in my physical life. A conscious choice to get off the chaos merry-go-round and choose to be an expression of love, joy, and happiness in every moment. Like attracts like. I choose to attract good through my thoughts, actions, and attitude of gratitude.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
The Kitchen
I envy those women who have immaculate kitchens. The uncluttered counters. The spice rack neatly stowed in the corner. Artful arrangements of blushing, ripe fruit. Not a space anywhere overburdened by clutter. Mine, however, is no where near that organized and clean.
Oh, I try hard enough during spurts of domesticity, but that never lasts long. My kitchen counters tumble over with the last canning of the season; lids and rings stashed in small pans in readiness for the next jar. Pint and quart jars randomly placed, some, precariously close to the counter's edge, waiting to hold some delectable peach, pear, or jam. Some partially filled spice jars waiting for the next addition of the dried herb before it goes into cupboard. Wire baskets with wooden plugs for a sturdy base overflowing with the latest item to be stashed away to remove the appearance of clutter. Not that this deception works for one second. It just makes me hopeful.
No, my kitchen is not immaculate. My kitchen is the room of experiments, creativity,, and some false starts. It is the room of science experiments, literally, and some the not so carefully crafted. In my kitchen recipes are born. Like any birth, it can be messy, long, and complicated. Smell this. Taste that. Add a pinch of rosemary. No, maybe bay leaves. Every now and again, when my ego gets too inflated, the culinary goodness comes crashing down, the offended taste buds rebel and the latest creation goes on the compost pile. They are fewer now than when I first learned the basics of cooking, but they still happen. Now I just laugh and start over instead of agonizing for days over the ruined meal. Thinking about homemade pasta can still make me giggle. It's bad when even the dog won't eat your cooking disaster!
Experimenting didn't come easy at first. Even now, there are spits and sputters, false starts to really memorable recipes. For that is what cooking is all about, the memories made and shared, disaster or not. I seem to remember more of the disasters - the ones that have flopped have been whoppers! Homemade pasta, burnt sausages - the house filling up with smoke because I forgot to turn them when I had my nose in a book! Even now I can't cook and read a book, it just doesn't work, it has to be either cooking or reading, never together. My first forays into learning how to grill. Grilling is and it isn't like cooking in an oven, there is a technique to be learned. I knew I was getting better when my son-in-law didn't offer to grill.
When I experiment in the kitchen, my taste buds come alive! I hum softly to myself. I close my eyes and inhale deeply of the titillating odors. I taste a small morsel. Do I need to make changes? I am CREATING! It feels exhilarating to take a fruit, vegetable, other food I've known for years and think about it in a totally unique way. What dessert recipe in my memory can I draw upon to create this jam? What flavors would go with this veggie that is different? How can I change the recipe yet still keep the essence of the food? Yes, watching all those cooking shows help - sometimes. They just fuel my desire to get in the kitchen and create something delicious!
Oh, I try hard enough during spurts of domesticity, but that never lasts long. My kitchen counters tumble over with the last canning of the season; lids and rings stashed in small pans in readiness for the next jar. Pint and quart jars randomly placed, some, precariously close to the counter's edge, waiting to hold some delectable peach, pear, or jam. Some partially filled spice jars waiting for the next addition of the dried herb before it goes into cupboard. Wire baskets with wooden plugs for a sturdy base overflowing with the latest item to be stashed away to remove the appearance of clutter. Not that this deception works for one second. It just makes me hopeful.
No, my kitchen is not immaculate. My kitchen is the room of experiments, creativity,, and some false starts. It is the room of science experiments, literally, and some the not so carefully crafted. In my kitchen recipes are born. Like any birth, it can be messy, long, and complicated. Smell this. Taste that. Add a pinch of rosemary. No, maybe bay leaves. Every now and again, when my ego gets too inflated, the culinary goodness comes crashing down, the offended taste buds rebel and the latest creation goes on the compost pile. They are fewer now than when I first learned the basics of cooking, but they still happen. Now I just laugh and start over instead of agonizing for days over the ruined meal. Thinking about homemade pasta can still make me giggle. It's bad when even the dog won't eat your cooking disaster!
Experimenting didn't come easy at first. Even now, there are spits and sputters, false starts to really memorable recipes. For that is what cooking is all about, the memories made and shared, disaster or not. I seem to remember more of the disasters - the ones that have flopped have been whoppers! Homemade pasta, burnt sausages - the house filling up with smoke because I forgot to turn them when I had my nose in a book! Even now I can't cook and read a book, it just doesn't work, it has to be either cooking or reading, never together. My first forays into learning how to grill. Grilling is and it isn't like cooking in an oven, there is a technique to be learned. I knew I was getting better when my son-in-law didn't offer to grill.
When I experiment in the kitchen, my taste buds come alive! I hum softly to myself. I close my eyes and inhale deeply of the titillating odors. I taste a small morsel. Do I need to make changes? I am CREATING! It feels exhilarating to take a fruit, vegetable, other food I've known for years and think about it in a totally unique way. What dessert recipe in my memory can I draw upon to create this jam? What flavors would go with this veggie that is different? How can I change the recipe yet still keep the essence of the food? Yes, watching all those cooking shows help - sometimes. They just fuel my desire to get in the kitchen and create something delicious!
Monday, July 23, 2012
Un-learning behaviours
Unlearning behaviors is like un-sewing (ripping out) a quilt: it takes time, patience, and perseverance.
~~ Diana Roof
Saturday, May 26, 2012
The Woodland
The cool of the wooded veil beckons me.
It calls my name, softly, on a breeze.
"Come hither, come rest. Come watch and learn."
Diana Roof
5/26/2012
Tuesday, May 8, 2012
After the Storm
After the Storm
My World hums with the green-ness of Spring!
What joy!
My World hums with the black-brown earth,
the life within yearning to spring forth.
My World hums!
What joy!
My World hums the blue-ness of the sky and water.
What joy!
My World hums the gold of the flowers,
the warmth of the sun.
What joy!
My World hums in blues, greens and golds!
What Joy!
Friday, April 20, 2012
Strength Is
Weakness Is...
Stagnation,
Excuses,
My wants before others needs,
Isolation,
Not Crying,
Not Feeling,
Not Expressing anger, love, joy,
Living the addictions,
Not asking for help,
Inaction,
Not living life to the fullest.
Strength Is
Getting up and moving forward,
Accountability to myself and others,
Doing the best for others,
Taking care of my needs - not wants - first
Knowing when to ask for help and then asking!
Crying,
Feeling,
Expressing anger, love, joy,
Conquering addictions,
Action!
Living! Breathing, Loving...
Beginning with myself!
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Morning Musings
The inky darkness studded with muted light from distant worlds greeted me as I began my day. What joy to just drink it in, however briefly!
Breathe
Breathe.
The stress melts away.
Breathe.
The tension is no more.
Breathe.
Focus - each breath is one of joy.
Breathe.
Brings me back to "now", not tomorrow, not yesterday, now!
Breathe
in the energy!
Breathe.
in the joy!
Breathe
and smile!
Breathe.
The stress melts away.
Breathe.
The tension is no more.
Breathe.
Focus - each breath is one of joy.
Breathe.
Brings me back to "now", not tomorrow, not yesterday, now!
Breathe
in the energy!
Breathe.
in the joy!
Breathe
and smile!
Breathe.
My Words Are Worthy!
4/13/12
I have finally realized that whatever I write here is special. My words are worthy! Why save the beautifully bound books of "some day"? Blank p0ages are just a new beginning waiting to be written!
I have finally realized that whatever I write here is special. My words are worthy! Why save the beautifully bound books of "some day"? Blank p0ages are just a new beginning waiting to be written!
Thursday, November 24, 2011
My Body
What happened to the body I knew?
The one I used to have? Where by breasts were firm and high? Two babies nurtured and nursed and years gone by. Now not so firm and high but where grandbabies love to snuggle – right by my heart!
I do not know this body of mine now. It has aches, pains, and ouches in very odd places. Outstretched arms, once belonging to my children, no longer lift up. Now those same arms reach down to their children. Once lifting children was my life, now I settle on the couch, “come sit by me,” I say, “you are getting too big to carry.” Surprisingly, they come and snuggle in beside me to read a book, or watch tv, or show me their latest booboo.
I do not match this body of mine. Inside I am youthful, energetic, joyful, and full of life. What I see in the mirror is not me…who has invaded my body? I do not know her. Round in so many places that once were strong and toned, still long limbed but thicker than when I was younger. If I don’t put on my glasses I can no longer see me clearly at all…maybe that is my rose colored glasses…seeing out of focus.
When did my babies grow so strong and tall? In the blink of an age, they are now awesome moms, uncles, aunts, and mentors with little ones who look up to them now.
When did the babies turn into grand-babies? What is so grand about a grandma? I like being a grand-mom. It fits me. I have much more time to stop and watch the ants (although I draw the line at watching the snake), paint a picture, rub a back, cheer on a soccer player, kiss a booboo.
A new group of babies giggle at me knees, sweetly sing-songing “maw-maw”, “maw-maw”, “watch me”! I swore, when young, “maw-maw” I’d never be that was for old women. Grams – never grammy, g’ma, g-mom. Now maw-maw is the sweetest words I hear! I don’t mind at all!
The one I used to have? Where by breasts were firm and high? Two babies nurtured and nursed and years gone by. Now not so firm and high but where grandbabies love to snuggle – right by my heart!
I do not know this body of mine now. It has aches, pains, and ouches in very odd places. Outstretched arms, once belonging to my children, no longer lift up. Now those same arms reach down to their children. Once lifting children was my life, now I settle on the couch, “come sit by me,” I say, “you are getting too big to carry.” Surprisingly, they come and snuggle in beside me to read a book, or watch tv, or show me their latest booboo.
I do not match this body of mine. Inside I am youthful, energetic, joyful, and full of life. What I see in the mirror is not me…who has invaded my body? I do not know her. Round in so many places that once were strong and toned, still long limbed but thicker than when I was younger. If I don’t put on my glasses I can no longer see me clearly at all…maybe that is my rose colored glasses…seeing out of focus.
When did my babies grow so strong and tall? In the blink of an age, they are now awesome moms, uncles, aunts, and mentors with little ones who look up to them now.
When did the babies turn into grand-babies? What is so grand about a grandma? I like being a grand-mom. It fits me. I have much more time to stop and watch the ants (although I draw the line at watching the snake), paint a picture, rub a back, cheer on a soccer player, kiss a booboo.
A new group of babies giggle at me knees, sweetly sing-songing “maw-maw”, “maw-maw”, “watch me”! I swore, when young, “maw-maw” I’d never be that was for old women. Grams – never grammy, g’ma, g-mom. Now maw-maw is the sweetest words I hear! I don’t mind at all!
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Teach me how to whisper
Teach me how to whisper
so I can learn to be gentle with myself.
Teach me how to whisper
so truth and soul become one within.
Teach me how to whisper
so I speak my truth, gently, unerringly, infinitely.
Teach me how to whisper
so I may show others their beginning paths.
Teach me how to whisper
so I have no need to shout.
Teach me how to whisper.
3/27/11
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