 I WANT YOU TO GO FISHING! Before he said hello, I blurted out, "Do you have any coffee over there?” This was our code for – I need to talk, can I come over? I drove the 6 blocks to his office. He was sitting at his desk happily surrounded by pictures of his fishing adventures. These coffee conversations began with the same ritual. First he would show me the photo of his most recent “biggest catch.” The fish always looked huge in the photo. Once he told me how he had mastered the perfect angle and focus of his camera to make it look larger than life. I oooed and awwwed and called him the mighty fisherman. Next came the pouring of the coffee. It was thick, strong and served in a cup from his mismatched office collection. No cream. No sugar. No asking if it was too strong. It was the expectation that it was to be enjoyed- as is. Finally with the ritual complete, he would sit back with his cup, his hair framing his face and with a familiar silence stare at me. His eyes locking on mine without words said, --what do you need to talk about it? This was a scene we played out many times. The problem of the day was hashed out with laughter, at times tears, but consistently with his calm and clarifying wisdom. I walked away feeling stronger, smarter, and grateful for having him in my life. His name was Dan. One day during a work meeting, Dan was exceptionally quiet. Not his quipping, sharp witted, entertaining self. While chatting during the morning break, Dan mentioned that he had a head ache that wouldn’t go away. Soon the black moleskin calendar that he carried in his chest pocket, once filled with meetings, appointments and deadlines, began to mean very little. Painfully I watched my mentor, colleague, coffee mate, father, brother, teacher, friend slow down with the ending of life. I would call his wife to arrange a visit and drive to his home to talk. Our talks were shorter now with fewer words. No fish photos, no ooing, no aweing…. no ritual. One sunny day we walked slowly to his front yard patio. Silently we sat with the sun on our faces, listening to the birds and looking at the sky. His wife brought us coffee. Like Dan, the coffee was thinner, weaker and held in a smaller container than I was used to. Breaking the silence he said, “Are you happy?" Before I could respond his weakened voice followed with, “You need to go fishing!” I started chattering on about how, yes, I was happy and all was going well with me. I told him I wish I could slow down and enjoy the sun more like I was doing with him right now. He said, "Oh, I don't know if you need to slow down like me, but I want you to relax. I want you to have fun.” And adamantly ended with, “I want you to go fishing!" Again I began talking about how I had fished as a little girl and had taken my kids fishing when they were young, but really didn’t think it was something I would do now. His piercing eyes stopped my chatter. I have learned life lessons in many ways; through experience, through suffering, through joy, but this time it was sitting on a patio with the sun on my face through the locking of eyes. Silently his determined eyes told me – Wake up! This isn’t about baiting a hook or holding a pole…this is about finding what you love…coming alive with joy…. Being happy… this is about Living! The stare down continued until the communication of the moment was solidified. He knew. I knew. I got it! I understood. He loved fishing. Fishing was his worship, the river was the sanctuary for his soul. Fishing was where he found joy, peace, and contentment. That is what he wanted for me. I never forgot the lesson. And the amazing part is…. I found it! When I write, when I speak and look in the eyes of someone touched by my words and when I help people I am fishing. I feel it! I feel the contentment. I feel the peace. I feel the joy. I have found what I love to do…and I am doing it! Yes, Dan, I am fishing! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Pennie’s Life Lesson: “Find the river in life that brings you joy, peace and contentment. Swim in it, splash in it and fish in it!” 
***Since we all learn from each other, I would love to have you share your thoughts and experiences relating to this post in a comment below. Thank you!*** All Rights Reserved Copyright © 2013-2014 Pennie Hunt This was written and produced by Pennie Hunt. Feel free to forward this post. Please keep the entire message intact, including contact, logo, and copyright information. If you have any questions or comments, or for reprint permission please email: [email protected] Thank you!
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 DRUMSTICK MARKS ON THE WALL
It was the time of release. I walked through the house for the last time. The carpets had just been cleaned and the smell of ten years of memories washed away. Yet, the walls talked to me reminding me of family holidays, arrival of grand babies, and all that fills the seasons in life…the good, the bad, the wondrous and the sad. Each room spoke of specific years, specific occasions, and specific memories. I walked down the stairs to the room I dreaded saying goodbye to. It was his space… the entire downstairs in one open room. His domain. The place that at one time was filled with his friends, guitars, speakers, his drums and the smell of him. They were never a formal band, as the faces changed daily, but I called them , “J.T. And The Basement Boys.” This was the gathering place. The place where secrets were told, laughter was heard and the business of music was the theme. Beginning with a tiny drum set from J.C. Penney, J.T. moved to bigger and better until he acquired an expensive Remo set from his uncle. The shiny collection of silver and gold stood in the corner under the silk Bad Religion banner. Sitting on his drummer’s throne he would raise the sticks high, striking the drums with the message that came from within him bringing his soul through the music. By clashing the cymbals he caused a vibration that went right through the walls of the house and out into the ether. At times, he drummed with such speed and concentration he would leave drumstick marks as he hit the wall behind him. I brushed my hands over these marks now. The room had been quiet for many years since he passed. Standing here with eyes closed I once again saw J.T. And The Basement Boys laughing, singing and living in the music. I felt the throbbing of the drums circle me. My hands cupped the wall as if trying to clutch on to the stick marks, the feeling, the sounds and the memory. I wanted to hold on to the marks, cut them out of the wall and keep them forever held safely with me. But, a time comes when everyone must open their fisted hand and release. Release memories, release people, release anger and hurt … release whatever is holding your heart captured in space and time. It was time to release. It was time for me to release the house. It was time to open the space for new people and their memory making. It was time for me to release myself from this space and allow me to move forward. It was time to release the drumstick marks on the wall. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Pennie’s Life Lesson: “There comes a time when you must open your fisted hand and release what is holding your heart captured.” ***Since we all learn from each other, I would love to have you share your thoughts and experiences relating to this post in a comment below. Thank you!*** All Rights Reserved Copyright © 2013-2014 Pennie Hunt This was written and produced by Pennie Hunt. Feel free to forward this post. Please keep the entire message intact, including contact, logo, and copyright information. If you have any questions or comments, or for reprint permission please email: [email protected] Thank you!  FRAME YOUR LIFE
I am not a photographer. At least not like my daughter, the professional photographer who captures the ice cream as it drips off the nose of a two year old or the unpredictable belly laugh of a bride as her new husband kisses her neck. I look for frames. I see the world as frames that will hold my words, my feelings and my emotions. When I spot a frame I snap it quickly to be used with my writing to illustrate the point I intend to convey. At times the frames I see create my words; or at least allow my words to come together in a meaningful way to reach the heart of the viewer. One snapshot may speak of peace and calmness. One photo may paint the canvas for love. What if you looked at every moment in your life as a frame? How would you fill it to create a memory? Do you want to frame a moment filled with examples of happiness, kindness and love? Or will you allow your frame to hold moments of being disengaged, angry, sad and confused? Many times people drift along believing that life is happening to them and they are helpless in the process. That is a distorted view. The control is in your hands. You direct the focus and what the lens of your life captures. It is up to you to search out the frames and fill them with the people and experiences YOU want to have. I am not a photographer, but I fill my frames with meaning, with emotion and with feeling. How will you fill your frames? ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Pennie’s Life Lesson: “Frame your world moment by moment, memory by memory to create a masterpiece of love and happiness.” ***Since we all learn from each other, I would love to have you share your thoughts and experiences relating to this post in a comment below. Thank you!*** All Rights Reserved Copyright © 2013-2014 Pennie Hunt This was written and produced by Pennie Hunt. Feel free to forward this post. Please keep the entire message intact, including contact, logo, and copyright information. If you have any questions or comments, or for reprint permission please email: [email protected] Thank you! |
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