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Window Seat Faith

Living by Faith and Enjoying the Journey

Hanging on for Me

I know it seems crazy, but I honestly believe the sun waited for me. I totally miss ditching when I was on the train. I was a zombie filing off of the train with the other commuters. 

My preoccupation with nothing in particular, nearly got the best of me. I was walking through the parking lot and and noticed that the sun seemed to be be hanging with me; waiting for me to look up from my life. As I walked to my car, for the view just seemed to get better and better. 

Thank you Lord, for allowing me time to take off my blinders. Please, continue to help me see Your light. 

Head for the Open Door

How do you get someone to blast towards a closed door, with conviction that it will open? 

How crazy does it sound to say, run towards it as if you know it will be open when you reach it? 

It’s a race that I can’t run. I’m sitting on the sideline cheering. 

Even if I trust that the Lord is doing His perfect work — even if I can look and see God’s hand — I only wish the one I’m cheering could see what I see. 

I can’t transfer my trust into another’s arms and legs. Just like I can’t relax their body so they’re able to fall back into the arms of Jesus. 
I can only pray and watch from the sideline. I can only watch and trust.  

As I write this, God gives me a reality check. His bottom line is:  

If I truly believe in God’s perfect work; if I trust that the doors will be open for the person I cheer, then I have to also trust that Holy Spirit is capable of sparking the peace and forward motion that lines up with the open door. 

I need only watch, pray and praise. Thank you, Lord. What you have for us is undeniable. 

Let This Be Light

I was looking up at the stars this evening asking the Lord to lead and guide me. I looked up the sky and asked the Lord to allow my writing to break through the darkness in the likes of just one of the stars on the night sky. 

I imagined that if my testimomy, day to day walk or my living relationship with the Lord could be just a glimmer of light in the life of someone.

Lord, you fill me with light. You lead me day by day — showing me Your light. Lord, I want to shine for your Glory. 

10,000 Steps

I made an early train this morning and I made my daily goal of clocking 10,000 steps on my Fitbit. I’m sitting on the train, homeward bound. I’m riding backwards, it seems appropro, I’m replaying the day in my mind. 

  • I unloaded the dishwasher
  • Scrubbed a pan that had been soaking overnight from BBQ spareribs
  • Tools a load of towels out of the washer and put them in the dryer
  • Picked out an outfit from clothes that had been hung to dry from last night’s gentle cycle load
  • Took Jaco for our morning walk
  • Showered and jumped into my clothes like a fireman on alarm
  • Dashed out the door with my preseason football player kid in tow.
  • Slowed down just long enough for him to jump out at the high school football field
  • Watched the early early train blow into the station while I was parking. Quietly acknowledged if I was really good I would’ve been on that train first in line for coffee at the 8:30 meeting. But, why?
  • Slumped down in my seat on the train. Didn’t read, didn’t write, didn’t look out the train. I tried to sleep, I think I did. Until a man sat next to me that made me wonder if his face was real.y imaginationed wondered if it was one of those special FX masks and if he was on his way into the city to do something crazy. I took another look and relaxed my imagination. I feel asleep until we were in the Park Avenue tunnel.
  • Filed off the train and came out on 47th and Lexington. Speed walked to 55th and 2nd Avenue, the Manhattan Art & Antique Center for Where Magazine’s Meet the Concierges panel discussion. There was plenty of coffee and more bagels and lox than I was ready to see. 
  • I took a half cheese danish and a cup of coffee found a spot at the back of the room for the Concierge’s discussion. My cheese danish was actually thinly sliced pears. 😐
  • After the meeting did a speed walked to the office, in time for a conference call. Sadly, we didn’t have an opportunity to explore the various antique specialty shops that were all housed in one building. 
  • Got off the conference call and dashed to catch a train to Harlem.
  • Speed walked across 125th Street to a the Harlem Week Senior Juberlee Luncheon. 
  1. No bagels and lox at this luncheon; delicious soul food style string beans, fried fish, rice and baked chicken. And yellow cake that taste like it was made in Grandma Ruth’s kitchen. So many living legends from Harlem’s treasured community and New York’s living history. Hazel Dukes, Charlie Rangel, Lloyd Williams… And the cool surprise Dionne Warwick was being honored with an award from The chamber and countless proclamations.
  • After lunch, we speed walked dodging the raindrops, back to the train; headed black to the office.
  • Through a sea of people in Grand Central. It was hard to believe it was only 3.
  • Three hours later and countless emails later, made another mad dash. My Fitbit vibrated and displayed fireworks — a 10K day indeed.

I’m riding backwards, but my heart and mind are looking forward to what’s next. I’ll to step off the train, into my family world and stop the clock. 

Captive Audience in the Chair

I'm not the average dental patient; I'm not wigged out about the procedures or the pain. Somehow, I manage to relax and bare the pain pretty well. In fact, I can actually get so relaxed that I often get drowsy with long procedures like, root canals. I sometimes have to force myself to stay awake. That's provided, the chair-side manner, doesn't include endless talking. 

I had to go to the dentist today and I found myself dreading the scene. It was just a routine 6 month cleaning. No, it wasn't the fear that the dentist was give me a lecture about me not brushing well enough or reaching in the back to floss. I can accept the lectures. Nor was I afraid she would find cavities. In fact, she did find a cavity today! She said it was  something she'd had an eye on for some time, that had now developed into "something" that needed to be addressed. There was something about the expression on her face and the way she spoke that made me feel like it hurt her more to tell me than it would hurt me. I agreed to make an appointment for the follow-up work. 

But, no as I said, the procedures and nature of the visit wasn't a concern. What bothered me was the one sided conversations that happen while I have my mouth open. 

The dental hygienist has gift for gab, but it's sort of an open line of her stream of consciousness. I have to assume that's what it is, why else would she openly note that I have facial hair. Surely she didn't really mean to say that. She just sort of mentioned it, in between putting the bib around my neck and what flavor polish I want. There was no opportunity for me to reply to the facial hair observation. I wanted to ask her to give me a facial. I wanted to ask her to snag those peekaboo chin hairs. I wanted to say I'm 50 something, yes, I have facial hair!

 I can't deny her comment was on my mind this morning. As I made my way to the office, I felt unprepared. I showered, brushed my teeth, but what had I done about my chin hairs? 

Today, she was talking about a movie that she saw last night. It's not that the discussion was ridiculous or uninteresting. It's just that I'm a talker and if I can't talk then there shouldn't be talking. Let's just go with silence. I'm truly okay with silence. In fact, I could appreciate the dentist experience as a mandatory unplugged opportunity. I would put my cell in my pocket and I sit in silence. 

She talked, I listened and spoke with my eyebrows and words stuck in my throat. That seemed to be enough for her. At the end of the visit, she told me to check out the movie. She left the room before I could pull it up on my phone. 

When I was heading home, I thought about the scene — I was just passing through her 9 to 5 day. She needed to do what she needed to do to pass the time and make the most of her day. If talking through my cleaning made her better or happier with her job and she was satisfied with facial gestures, than I will just sit back and close my eyes. It really isn't a big deal — the visit is always over before I know. 

My Lazy Sunday Gaze

If I were in Newport Beach, I would get up and walk across the street to the beach in my play clothes (my flip flops, I❤️NY t-shirt, and stained yoga pants. I think I have just enough energy to walk across the street to the beach. 

No, I’m here, on the Hudson River side of the country. I don’t have enough energy to get in my car and take a drive. That just requires more brain power than I want to exert. I don’t think I have it. I’ve taken a nap, had a glass of wine and the back porch is as good as it gets. 

I’m lounging in a love seat with my daughter. If we dash right now we could catch the sunset. If we dash right now, we could have ice cream before dinner. It all sounds wonderful, but it’s Sunday. It will soon be Monday, we’ll be tagged back in the rat race. Rest and chill time are now or never. 

From where I sit, I see angels and light. 

This view and my carved space in time give me perfect peace.

Live, Living and Legendary

Music lovers put the Falcon Underground and the Avalon Archives Museum of Roots, Rock & Roll on your bucket list. 

The Falcon has become world renowned as a cool venue for live music in New York. 

The owner, Tony Falco is passionate about supporting living artists. 

And the venue has a priceless curated collection of iconic and legendary music memorabilia.  

I was there to enjoy dinner with frienda and experience Deadhgrass, a cool collaboration of bad ass sting musicians, interpreting the music of Jerry Garcia.  I thought the only treat of the evening would be my husband sitting in with the band for a few selections. It was grooving, indeed. But, the most moving part of being at the Falcon Underground was to be surrounded by so much music history. ​

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Commuter Among Tourists

A Saturday morning ride down to a work event in the city. The train is packed and there’s endless chatter. I’m sure I was the only one who dragged out of bed, stepping on the train without a thrill. I often have my face glued to window, enjoying the views and capturing the moment. Today, I was riding backwards with mental blinders on. Not enough coffee this morning. No casual dog walk. No family breakfast. I think I needed that kind of Saturday. 

At every stop day trippers file on. They found a parking space; they found their friends on the platform; they managed to figure out how to buy a ticket from the machine. They have their coffee and water. And I smell egg sandwiches, maybe a hint of scallion cream cheese. Their chatter cuts through my ear buds. I’m a commuter with sensitive ears. I’m a commuter who’s spent tooamu rides in the quiet car. 

I’m happy for them. There’s nothing like hopping on the train for a day trip. I spend the greater part of my day cooking up packages and campaigns to get folks on the train for pleasure trips. It’s the job that most days doesn’t feel like work. But, it’s a Saturday; a summer Saturday. What was I thinking? Did I consider how draggy I would be?

I’m a commuter, heading home on a train to the Hudson Valley. For the train full of tourists, this is a joy ride along the Hudson River. For me, I’m feeling squeezed out by the two 20 somethings that talk like they’ve had way to much Starbucks. Noise cancellation headphones would be the move on this train. Pulling into Peekskill, my seat mates just asked what station. They paniced, thinking they’d talk and missed the conductors call for Beacon. 

I’m a commuter watching the sun break through the late afternoon clouds. The closer I get to home the more I sit up in my seat. I just passed a cluster of kayakers on the Hudson River. They were enough to spark it for me. The view was undeniable. My seat mates faces each other, watching videos on their phone. I sat with my back to them. My eyes glued to the window. I’m a commuter, but I’m a tourist at heart. 

A New Chapter

I bought two black & white cookies and a kiwi Snapple and a Hal’s seltzer. I’m about to start a new chapter in my life journey. I’m on the train, about to meet up with my new college kid. He’s going to hop on at Harlem-125th Street Station, coming home for the weekend! 

I know this guy, I won’t have to give him the window seat. 

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