Freedom of Voice

An empty box and a bouquet of tulips greeted me when I got in from walking the dog yesterday evening.  John stood there, a smile on his face. He knows my favorite flowers are tulips, and these vibrant purplish pink ones just looked like the color of love. I read the card stuffed inside the box and sniffed back a few tears.  I knew the box itself had significance, but unlike the 27 tiny boxes I stuffed with memories on paper, the purpose wasn't obvious to me. In my defense, it was stressful day, and my brain was not functioning at full capacity.  (Disclaimer: I know lots of women would be irate at receiving an empty box for an anniversary gift, but we vowed to go gift-free this year.) I must have looked at him quizzically. "It's empty so we can fill it with 27 more years of memories."  This. This is why I love this guy with all of my heart. After all this time, he still wants to make memories with me.  As I ran my hand over the box this mor...

When I began this blog, I promised to show my heart. Currently, it's divided among 27 tiny boxes, each one containing a memory I've shared with John. (If you read my post,  Sound of My Soul , you know the song, "Boxes" by the Goo Goo Dolls has become our theme song.) After a tumultuous and expensive year and a half of moving many times and not being sure of anything except for the strength of our marriage, we have settled back into a comfortable groove. Unfortunately, both of us have been busy acclimating to new jobs, so were haven't had tons of mental energy once we get home. Sometimes, we spend our time at home working. Often, I think about doing something nice for him, but I can't seem to gather up enough will to peel my butt off the couch. I try to say nice things, to show how much I still appreciate him, but I get sidetracked. Our upcoming anniversary on the 27th seemed like a perfect time to wow him with a meaningful (and cheap) gift. When the song ...

A funny thing happened this week: My drives home from work were relatively stress-free, the areas that usually stack up considerably lighter. And, lighter traffic means a lighter Annmarie. Like laundry, traffic is on my top ten list of annoyances. My family tells me I'm an aggressive driver. Perhaps. I prefer to think of it as defensive driving. The problem is, I do become a tad too defensive and get myself all riled up, every misstep by another driver giving me an excuse to rant. But, this week was different. I found myself just cruising along, and other than the orange jeep that almost ran me off I75 yesterday, I didn't have moments I feared for my life. I sat in the middle lane for the most part, not worried about the people doing 100 zooming by me or the others puttering along at 55 I was passing. I let a couple of cars in when they were in the merge lane. What's the difference, I thought, if I am the 3rd or 5th car in line? I did draw the line, however, at lettin...

I've been feeling more than a little uninspired these days, even with potential muses all around me. But, yesterday, I went on an adventure with two dear friends and writing circle buddies that helped renew my intention to live life in the moment. At first it didn't seem all that promising. It was the opposite of swampy due to the time of year and the dry conditions we've had. But, as I  gazed up at the ancient cypress trees, listened to the wind dance through the tall, impossibly skinny pines, and opened my ears to the bird  symphony, I began to feel inspiration well within me. But, other than a couple of bees getting busy with a flower, there wasn't a lot of wildlife making itself visible. Yet. When I tell you we walked smack dab into the middle of a paradisal oasis, I am not exaggerating. I don't have pictures to show the scope of how magical the place was because I decided to leave my big camera home in an effort to be in the moment, so you'll just hav...

I would like to think everyday, I move closer to a better understanding of myself, my place and mission in this world. "Closer" by Mario Sanchez Nevado Some days are better than others. I know I'm here to be helpful to others, to somehow bless the people I come into contact with. I managed to do that in a small way Friday when I found a ring in the bottom of a Target bag while unloading my groceries. I had an inkling that it slipped off the cashier's hand when she was filling the bags, and my instincts were spot on. When I handed it to her, she looked so grateful, it made my heart happy. "You came all the way back here to give this to me?" she asked. "Of course," I said. She thanked me, and as I walked away, I could hear the customer she was ringing up say, "That was so nice." I actually didn't think it was particularly nice--just the decent thing to do. The store is all but 15 minutes from my house, and I was back a...

My week started well enough--I managed to make serious strides with some kids who up until now were hell-bent on on disrupting not only their education, but the learning of the entire class. As the principal sat in the back of the room, I was nervous she would think the noise level was out of control. It was loud, but it was a good loud--kids laughing and shouting out as they competed to figure out the central idea of a text, kids going back and forth with peers on what details mattered and which ones didn't. The sound of learning, music to my ears. After school, I peeked into her office to let her know that was the best day I have ever had with that particular group and how excited I was to see them eager to learn and figure things out. "You're a saint," was her reply. Then, we had a good chuckle. The rest of the week, well, that's another story. Courtesy of a 24-hour pukey flu on Tuesday-Wednesday (yes, that's the official term for what I had), I h...

I've been thinking a lot about friendly discourse--mainly if such a thing exists anymore. My friends and I seem to be capable of it, but I don't see much evidence of it on a larger scale. Instead, there seems to be an attitude of "If I believe it, it's right; if you don't, you're wrong." As I lamented the loss of civility in our civilized world, it got me thinking about what it means to be a friend. Then, about my eclectic group of friends--friends that truly span a wide range of age groups, socioeconomic status, belief systems, ethnicities, and sexual orientation. Here is one thing all of my friends have in common: they stand up for what they believe in without bashing those who don't believe the same. They stand firm but respect that others have different views.  I don't choose friends who will always agree with me, tell me what I want to hear. Instead, I choose friends who challenge me to consider different perspectives, hold my feet to ...