About Pat

Here is a place where you can come to get a lift for the day, perhaps, a little insight to carry you through onto the next adventure of your life. A place where I’ll share a story, perhaps a thought and some reflections and we’ll meet somewhere in the middle. I like to think of it as a gathering around the kitchen table late at night when everything is still and the world has quieted down to rest. Occupation: Writer, blogger, wife, mother, grandmother, sister, daughter and one learning and sharing stories in my life. Location: Bailey, CO Introduction: 2007 Plain Talk and Ordinary Wisdom came out of Wisdom for the Ages, which was born in the corporate world where I gave workshops and facilitated talking-stick discussion groups. When my employer closed their site in 2002 and relocated back East, I took it outside corporate giving presentations as a speaker at Kiwanis, Mile High Sales Professionals, CWEE (Center for Work, Education and Employment) and Business Honoring Spirituality meetings. I also led weekly discussion groups at Morningstar Assisted Living Center. I am passionate about creating a safe environment where people can put aside their differences, share their experiences and wisdom without being right or wrong and benefit from truly listening to one another. It all started with inspiration from a quote from Ram Dass in his book, "Still Here": ….”when there is true surrender and service between people, the roles of helper and helped and the boundaries between those in power and those who are powerless begin to dissolve.”

Being Human

Posted on June 28, 2018 by Pat

Children-daffodils-flowers Courtesy MSN Clipart

This, being human, has it’s interesting twists and turns. Some days I’m tuned in while others I’m at a total loss and confused. But, this poem puts it back in perspective for me and is tender in helping me realize what’s important in life and why I’m here.

The Guest House ~~ by Rumi

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

(A teaching story translated by Coleman Barks © by owner. provided at no charge for educational purposes)

~~~~~~~~

I can relate and understand that ups and downs are lessons, if I listen. Some just don’t make sense but that’s the point. It’s not what I understand with my head but with my heart. As I travel further on this journey, with this insight, I see the magic.

Sometimes, these twists and turns teach us to face our biggest fears. It reminds me of a story, I once read I never forgot, in “Saint Francis” by Nikos Kazantzakis, where he had a dreamlike vision. The one thing Francis was most terrified of was the very thing he was instructed to do . . . kiss a leper on the mouth.

I can pretty much guess this isn’t something we would be asked to do today but the fear Saint Francis experienced with being challenged to follow through on this request was as real as any we could possibly face now. You could sense his entire body was tormented and trembling at the very thought of it.

To paraphrase, this story goes on like this: Almost paralyzed in fear, the next day Francis managed to get up and walk down the road, with Brother Leo, attentive for the sound of bells off in the distance. This was the sound of a leper coming. They wore bells to let others know they were near

Francis soon heard it and as he got closer he could see the leper. He came close and gazed in horror as half of his nose had been eaten away. His hands had no fingers and were just stumps and his wounded lips were oozing.

Ignoring his own terror, Francis then embraced him, throwing himself upon the leprous man and kissed him upon the lips choosing instead to follow God’s request. He, then, picked him up, wrapped him in his robe and began carrying him toward the city. As he got closer, Francis stopped and bent down to uncover the robe carrying the leper but as he pulled it away the robe was empty.

Unable to speak, Francis suddenly realized, with tears flowing from his eyes and falling to the ground to kiss the earth, that it wasn’t a leper at all. It was Christ Himself who had come in the form of a leper to test his faith.

You may ask if we’re really tested like this . . . maybe or not. But, magic happens, like Saint Francis experienced, when we have the same realizations. Our eyes are opened to the same possibilities, when we accept challenges we face each day and ignore our greatest fears. Are the beliefs we have real or are they just illusions?

How strong is the belief that we’ll risk our very lives to hold on to it. That’s the greatest challenge some are facing today in very real ways and it’s valid. It’s like the story of the man holding on to a rope unwilling to let go.

And a little like what I saw yesterday at a breakfast gathering when the conversation turned to the latest controversial topic of immigration and children being separated from their families.

The emotions were real, strong and valid. There was anger, yet tears in the eyes of the one who spoke. Even though our positions are different, I understood. I had been there and felt the dilemma on the inside where beliefs are so strong and justified but being challenged with different feelings from the heart. It’s hard to know what is true and how to let go.

It’s something we each struggle with and have to learn to identify. When we get what we think is guidance, who’s talking and can I trust it? Individually, it takes time to figure that out. But with it comes magic. It’s possible to work through and so worth it on the other side.

Thank you for reading and hope you’ll share some thoughts and experiences you’ve had too.

Pat from the ol’ kitchen table.

Acknowledgements: The Guest House - by Rumi and transla more...

I Wanted to Say Goodbye

Posted on June 6, 2018 by Pat

I was convinced I had said everything I created this blog to say but something keeps me holding on to it. I wanted to say goodbye and had imagined so many ways to compose my last post before shutting it down — even began copying and saving my posts before preparing to delete them. But, for some reason I’m still here.

Maybe, it’s a result of listening to an interview today that Adam Davis, executive director of Oregon Humanities, had with Barry Lopez that made me reconsider. Lopez spoke of being responsible, as part of a community, to share our stories with those younger and with social media. He said it was important not to give up and was something I didn’t want to do.

(I hope you watch . . . was very powerful and moving to me.)

Life has been good for hubby and I, up here in our mountains, putzing around and enjoying our golden years together. As each season comes and fades and the days unfold, I come to notice how precious life is and I’m grateful to be a part of it.

But, lately life has also become complex and fast paced. It’s hardly manageable to keep up, or frankly, I’ve wondered if it’s worth it to stay plugged into the internet. Just when I get caught up another update shows up with some asking for a little more money. So, who really wants to hear these stories, anyway, and my opinions or has the time?

But, I guess with this interview, along with a young lady I met at the Dept. of Motor Vehicles the other day, where she thought growing up in the ’60’s era would have been interesting, I think I’ll hang around a little longer.

Maybe, I still have more to say that would pique your interest and start a conversation. I hope so. I have enjoyed meeting those of you over here on the internet over the years and value your thoughts and our connection.

So, here we go. I’m still here.

Pat from the ol’ kitchen table

Acknowledgements: Oregon Humanities exec director Adam more...

Merry Christmas And Happy New Year

Posted on December 24, 2017 by Pat

On this holiest of nights, I wish you love and peace.

Christmas Star courtesy of MSN Clipart

And before Santa delivers his last package and the bells toll their last jingle for this old year, I wish you a blessed Christmas and the happiest of New Years.

May God bless you all. I love you.

Pat from the ol’ kitchen table.

Hurricanes and Fires

Posted on September 9, 2017 by Pat

Pat from the ‘ol kitchen table

Magic

Posted on July 26, 2017 by Pat

Feather Photo by Jim Ruppel 2017

It’s incredible to see this beautiful delicate feather just lying on the ground, especially when I learn it’s only slightly larger than my pinky nail. Hubby noticed it, though, when walking in our backyard, and captured it in this photo. It’s magic — just the fact, something so tiny and delicate could have been overlooked. But, what isn’t in life?

Who’s to say how long it has been there, unnoticed, or how long it will remain. We may have walked past it a hundred times, could have crushed it under our shoes or the wind may blow it away.

That’s the thing. I wonder what else I haven’t noticed. What have I missed mainly because I haven’t taken the time to look and listen?

~~~~~

Little Summer Poem Touching The Subject Of Faith
by Mary Oliver

Every summer
I listen and look
under the sun’s brass and even
into the moonlight, but I can’t hear

anything, I can’t see anything —
not the pale roots digging down, nor the green
stalks muscling up,
nor the leaves
deepening their damp pleats,

nor the tassels making,
nor the shucks, nor the cobs.
And still,
every day,

the leafy fields
grow taller and thicker —
green gowns lofting up in the night,
showered with silk.

And so, every summer,
I fail as a witness, seeing nothing —
I am deaf too
to the tick of the leaves,

the tapping of downwardness from the banyan feet —
all of it
happening
beyond any seeable proof, or hearable hum.

And, therefore, let the immeasurable come.
Let the unknowable touch the buckle of my spine.
Let the wind turn in the trees,
and the mystery hidden in the dirt

swing through the air.
How could I look at anything in this world
and tremble, and grip my hands over my heart?
What should I fear?

One morning
in the leafy green ocean
the honeycomb of the corn’s beautiful body
is sure to be there.
(Courtesy of Famous Poets and Poems)

~~~~~

It makes me think of how my life is unfolding. So far, it’s been a slow year, in our home, while enjoying my meanderings up here in my mountains. Though it’s been awhile since I last posted, there’s nothing much to report. But, I wanted to catch up and let you all know I’m still here . . . alive and kicking.

I’ve been watching events around me and in the world, somehow through different eyes. My heart has been heavy, at times, and yet full learning to see the magic in all of it. I’ve taken time to observe the process in the good and not so good times, realizing nothing really ever stays the same. Life is always changing in us and all around — ever shifting and moving.

And, ah yes, I did enjoy one of those mini-milestones in a senior moment this summer for my birthday. I’ve been looking for the magic this year, since I first noted it was going to be a year full of 7’s for me — this year being 2017, my birth day is 27, birth year 47 and turned 70. My grandson is even 17 most of this year until October.

Yet, the magic is not where I thought. It turns out some of it was in a little magic dust with hubby preparing one of my favorite restaurant-dinner dishes on my birthday. He even baked my favorite cake that I always loved back in my childhood days at my grandmother’s, making it special.

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Life takes us on twists and turns and I get caught up in it on occasion or simply never notice the little miracles that appear at my feet. I’m taken back at times, as I pause and find myself in awe at the wonder of it all.

There is magic around me in the little things and subtle shifts, when I join in the dance and notice. I can plow along and never perceive what’s happening around me, playing invisible or even insignificant. But, just like a tiny feather laying on the ground everything has value and a purpose.

Thank you for continuing to be out there and support me. I enjoy your visits and I’m humbled when you stop by to read and share your thoughts at my kitchen table. You’re my treasure.

Pat at the ‘ol kitchen table

Acknowledgements: Little Summer Poem Touching The Subje more...