The Corner of Spirit & Brave

NOTHING IS AS GOOD OR BAD AS WE REMEMBER IT TO BE by Pennie Hunt

1/26/2025

Weird things come to my mind when I am in the shower. Sometimes amazing ideas hit me.
Sometimes it is an errand I must remember to do or a call I need to make. Sometimes it is memories of things that have happened in my life – yesterday or decades ago.

These thoughts can play out in odd, quirky little rhymes that don’t rhyme well or make much sense, but they lock my brain on a snapshot of time, like…

We built castles in the sandbox and
    washed them away with the garden hose.
We traded wobbly training wheels and scraped knees
     for first love and butterfly feels.
Life teased us with promises and possibilities,
     that we never took seriously.
Life was simple, time was slow,
   we didn’t know what we didn’t know.
Life was quiet and like the sand,
   time slipped quickly through our hands.

If you are like me, we recreate memories the way our brain wants us to remember them. From our perspective, it is enhanced with a bit of imagination that makes the memory better or worse than it really was.

For example, if you went to a new restaurant and had the best meal of your life. You can’t stop thinking about that steak or bowl of pasta. You can still smell the sizzling steak. The sauce on the pasta was worth the stain it left on your favorite shirt. The meal was perfect!

A month or two later you go back to enjoy it again. It isn’t as good as you remembered it to be. It was good but you glorified the memory in your mind- making it better than it was.

We are also good at making bad memories worse than they were. Every time we run it through our mind it’s worse and more painful. Our mind loves to make bad situations more dramatic.

When we remember good memories of having a pleasurable experience with people we care about, we feel happiness. So, emphasizing the memory of pleasure increases our happiness during the time of remembering.

In the same way, emphasizing the feelings of pain when we relive difficult memories increases our sadness and devastation. This can keep us stuck in anger or despair.

We can manage our memories. First, we need to realize that we can’t erase or change the memory bank in our minds. All deposits are there for a lifetime- there is no withdrawing them.
Simple childhood memories may be remembered very differently by siblings. We all have a vantage point and perception of how things happened in the past. This doesn’t mean that one person is right or wrong – we just all have individual, personalized memory files.

Next, we need to pay attention to how accurate our memories are. Have we glorified and enhanced the good ones?

I will never discount how devastatingly painful memories can truly be tied to tragedy. These will forever break our hearts. This is the holy ground of memories. The memories of grief and loss that are yours to hold as sacred to your heart. But be realistic about many of your bad memories… has your mind enhanced the drama by taking them (unrealistically) from bad to tragic?

Lastly, we control how often we visit memories. It begins in our mind- what will you give power to and what has power over you? If we are in a world of constantly reliving things that happened in the past, we are missing out on living life now. Enjoy the feeling of good memories. Don’t allow the bad ones to cause you to live in a constant journey from one pain point to another pain point.

Visit your memories. Let them wash over you as a quick trip to the past. Trying to change or erase them is like trying to hold water in the palm of your hand. It won’t work.

Maybe my little nonsensical poem makes more sense than I thought. Maybe life does tease us with promises and possibilities that we don’t take seriously. Maybe as I watch decades of memories drift through my mind and down the shower drain, I realize I didn’t know what I do now… life is like sand and slips right through our hands…memories and all.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Pennie’s Life Lesson:
We can’t erase or change the memory bank in our minds.
  All deposits are there for a lifetime- there is no withdrawing them.
   ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

YOUR TURN...
Share your thoughts and experiences relating to this post in a comment below. And please feel free to email me at:
[email protected].
Thank you!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
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Copyright © 2013-2025 Pennie Hunt
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He Will Always Be My Baby by Pennie Hunt

1/19/2025

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Today would have been his 40th birthday. I say, it would have been, because it has been 17 years since I have celebrated a birthday with him. Seventeen years since I have seen my son’s smile, touched his beard, or felt one of his famous hugs.

I remember that day 40 years ago. It was Monday. I vacuumed the house. I watched Back to the Future on a VHS tape rented from Blockbuster. I packed a pale green terrycloth sleeper to dress a baby in. I wore a purple jogging suit to the hospital. My parents came over to stay with my other two children at 5:45 pm.

A sports game was playing on the television in the delivery room. It was basketball or football, I don’t remember for sure- I was busy having a baby.

“IT’S A BOY!”

This was a different time. There were no ultrasounds to predict what color to decorate the nursery months in advance. The excitement of hearing whether I had a new son or daughter was saved for that moment.

He arrived at 9:30 pm weighing 6 lbs. 14 oz and measuring 20 inches long. His name was Jameson Tanner. That was very quickly shortened to J.T.

He didn’t cry. He looked at me with wide-open eyes that twinkled as if he was back- not new to this world, but back for another visit to a familiar place. He was calm, but his eyes looked around as if he was ready for an adventure. An adventure that I wasn’t sure I was ready for.

I remember that day in colorful detail. I feel like birthdays are a joyous celebration of a new life and anticipation of what is to come. Year by year we celebrate who this person is, who they have become, and the progress they have made moving through this life. We bake cakes, blow out candles, and unwrap gifts.

I also feel like this day should be a celebration and recognition of the momma who carried this baby within the protective space of her own body. The mom who labored and birthed this soul. It should not only be a celebration of the safe delivery of a baby, but also a celebration of the mom’s birth-ing day. The day she gave birth to another human. The day she released a part of her soul into this world. A part that is never fully disconnected from her.

I can easily remember each of J.T.’s years on this earth. Each celebration. Each cake. Each blowing of candles and opening of gifts. I remember each one from the first to the 22nd. That is when the images and memories stopped.

Today would have been the 40th. I can’t see him at 40. My mind tries to imagine him with a little gray in his beard and a few wrinkles around his eyes. I try to imagine what job he would have and how much he would still love playing his guitar. I try to imagine him laughing with his brother, sister, and his daughter. I try to imagine 40 years of his famous hugs.

But I can’t.

Today is a quiet day like every day. A cup of coffee while my dogs slept on my lap. A little reading and my morning meditation. Today I hit 1,000 days of consecutive mediation sessions. I don’t believe it is an accident that my guided meditation topic today was about addiction.

I don’t believe it was a coincidence that today I saw a young man walking down the street wearing a black sweatshirt, black baseball cap, and baggy jeans. As he talked on his phone I could see his auburn beard and curly hair reflecting the sun. A twin of J.T.

I don’t believe that it was an accident that when I started my car this morning, my music app began playing a song by one of his favorite artist, Bob Dylan. A song I had never heard before titled, I Will Be Your Baby Tonight. Interestingly, this song began playing on its own after I had spent the morning thinking of that day of birthing my baby 40 years ago.

I looked up the lyrics. It is a short simple song, and I realize it is meant to be about a couple, but today, for me the lyrics fit. Today it was about the day of J.T.’s birth. About how J.T. will always be connected to me and how he will always be my baby.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Pennie’s Life Lesson:
From birth to death, everything in between, before, and after…
a mother will always be connected to her child.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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I’m Not a Quitter- I Just Need More Time by Pennie Hunt

1/12/2025

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Did you know the second Friday of every January is Quitters Day? I didn’t. This was brought to my attention this week. By the second week of January, most people who set a New Year’s resolution have given up on their big audacious goal.

The target they wanted to hit seemed exciting. It sounded good at the New Year’s Eve party when they announced their resolution. They were going to make a change and stick to it!

At first, they were determined. But the shiny ring they hoped to grasp lost its luster quickly. It is hard work to change. Instant gratification didn’t happen. The resolution plan was flawed. So that was that. They quit.

Does this sound like you? Resolutions are hard to keep. Motivation wains. The glory of the idea deflates. Statistics vary, but around 88% of people who set resolutions fail by the end of January. Hence “Quitters Day” was born.

I haven’t made resolutions for years! I do like picking a word for the year. For the past 12 years I have picked a word that guides my thoughts, actions, and intentions. I write about it and share my word every year. I place the words in spots that I notice like my desk and bathroom mirror- to keep it front and center in my life.

I thought of some great words for this year, but then I began reviewing my word from last year and how it worked for me.
My 2024 word was “CREATE.” I announced this last year in my column, so I pulled my writing out to review what my plan for the word was. This paragraph hit hard:

“This year I hope to create more of this calm beauty in myself, my life, and my world. I will do this by making time for things I love doing. Time for painting more, sewing more, cooking more, reading more, writing more, and speaking more. All the things that put me in that space of creative calmness. I do have a few things in mind that I plan to create this year that I expect to be fabulous. But I won’t be pushed by a list of goals or an outline of projects and steps to completion. I will be guided by the gentle journey of creating.” (Pennie Hunt 1-2024)

I love the intention. I felt calm reading it until I realized I hadn’t done a good job at most of it. I hadn’t painted more, sewn more, tried new recipes, or read more books than normal. Was I a quitter? Do I need to join the 88% and admit to failing?

I reread the lines, “… I won’t be pushed by a list of goals or an outline of projects and steps to completion. I will be guided by the gentle journey of creating.”

I don’t think I failed. I didn’t quit. I just needed more time to work on my word. I decided to do something I have never done - repeat last year’s word again this year. I decided to give myself more time to create. More time to paint, read, cook, sew, write, speak, and do all the things I love doing. More time to be guided by the gentle journey of creating.

It isn’t about a day that marks failure or quitting. It is about learning lessons. I need to work on the lesson of making creating a priority in my life. Check in with me next January to see how I did.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Pennie’s Life Lesson:
We all have the ability to create beauty in life.
Allow yourself the time to create it.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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I Wanted a Cardinal- but I Needed a Lesson by Pennie Hunt

1/5/2025

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I don't receive many messages from my mom. Maybe I have not paid attention and missed some in the last 5 years since she passed. This Christmas I was thinking of my mom a lot.

When I decorated my home for Christmas, I carefully hung ornaments on my tree that belonged to her. I used the tablecloths and napkins that she made for me, and her hand-sewn bells once again hung on my front door. Memories of her were everywhere. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I needed a message from her. A sign that she was with me.

I have thought of her often as I have enjoyed the bird feeder my son gave me last year for Christmas. My mom loved birds and the color red, so cardinals were her favorite.

Right after Thanksgiving, I made a deal with her. I would gaze out my window watching the sparrows and blue jays in my bird feeder and tell my mom out loud that I wanted to see a cardinal. (Yes, I talk to dead people.) I would tell her over and over, if she just sent me a cardinal I would believe it was a message from her and I would know she was around.

For weeks I repeated this. For weeks I watched the bird feeder. For weeks, I saw the normal parade of sparrows, bluejays, finches, and even had a huge hawk visit my yard. But no cardinals. It was a pretty high standard for a request since I had never seen a cardinal where I live. I didn't even know if cardinals visited my part of the country.

I guess that is why I wanted one so bad. It would be unusual. Out of the ordinary. Rare. To see a cardinal in my yard, it would have to be sent in a magical way. Then, I would believe it had most definitely been sent by my mom.

Christmas came and went. No cardinals.

Two days after Christmas my daughter called to see if I wanted to do some after-Christmas clearance shopping with her and my grandsons. We went to a couple of stores and ended up going up and down the aisles of Hobby Lobby. My daughter and one grandson were in front of me as we walked through the colorful decorations. I looked behind me and didn't see my other grandson. Suddenly he came around the corner with something in his hand and said,
"Grandma I feel like you need this."

He handed me a statue of a big, fat, red cardinal.
My mouth dropped open. I said,
"Brady, where did you find that? What made you bring it to me? Why do you think I need that?"

He said,
"I don't know. I saw them on a high shelf, but this one was sitting lower and looking at me. I just felt like you needed it."

I hadn't shared with anyone my request for my mom to send me a cardinal as a sign from her. I had been down the same aisles as Brady and hadn't seen the cardinal, but when he took me back to where he found it, I realized I had walked right by them. The three on the high shelf all had a flaw or chip of some kind, but this one...the one looking right at Brady was perfect.
"You are right, Brady. This one needs to come home with me."

I am sure my mom was proud of herself. She had probably laughed at my request and thought I was silly to think a cardinal would show up in my yard. She probably thought if I studied my bird facts, I would know cardinals are not in my area. (I have since verified that to be true.) She was probably very pleased with the way she landed a fat, red cardinal in my hand in an unexpected way.

I learn many lessons every year. This year the most important lesson came on one of the last days. The lesson of paying attention. The lesson of believing. And the lesson that not everything comes to us in the way we expect it to, but many times it is laid right in our hands in a magical way.
Thanks, Mom, for always being with me.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Pennie's Life Lesson:
We learn lessons in magical, unexpected ways.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

My mom and me. Notice the cardinal on her shirt and on her Christmas tree above our heads.

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NOTHING IS AS GOOD OR BAD AS WE REMEMBER IT TO BE by Pennie Hunt

He Will Always Be My Baby by Pennie Hunt

I’m Not a Quitter- I Just Need More Time by Pennie Hunt

I Wanted a Cardinal- but I Needed a Lesson by Pennie Hunt

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