Category: Gratitude

Splitting Logs – The Firewood’s Promise (and my “Why”)

If you were to visit me on my mountainside, next to a huge pile of bucked-up logs that I’ve cut and collected over the past year, using my fancy new log splitter, what would you see? 

A grandpa dressed in a snow suit and beanie, warding off the low-teens temperature and wind chill, wearing eye and ear protection, splitting one log after another. 

I’m stacking the split firewood into an “outdoor fire” bin (the crummy stuff that’s showing some signs of water damage that may or may not burn so great), and an “indoor fire bin” for the good stuff.  We have so much that I use IBC totes that I can forklift and move around with my tractor.   

What you’d miss is what this guy’s thinking.  Of all the campfires these logs will deliver.  The warmth, the beauty, and the cheery faces reflected in the golden firelight.  The togetherness, the raucous fun, and always the smoke that’ll chase each of us in time.    

Lately, I’ve been thinking about words that rhyme with stories, memories, starlight, marshmallows, love, and family. Of a way to express my “why” behind all this work.

My new splitter hums, its rhythm is true,
Each log cracks clean, split in two.
And with each piece, I see what’s ahead—
Fires that warm, where stories are said.

Golden flames dance in their eyes,
Joyful voices filling the skies.
Kids with marshmallows on sticks they will hold,
Turning white fluff to crispy gold.

The stars above will steal their gaze,
A quiet pause from the firelight’s haze.
But soon enough, they’ll leap to their feet,
Cousins chasing cousins, the night complete.

This work is heavy, my labor long,
But in each log, I hear a song.
A promise of warmth, connection, and love,
Of smoke below and stars above.

Each crack of the wood a memory in waiting,
Moments of joy we’ll spend creating.
I keep splitting, I’ll keep the pace,
Knowing the fire will hold its place.

One split, one stack, one stick at a time,
Building a future that’s warm and divine.
A pile of firewood, yes—but so much more,
It’s family, it’s laughter, it’s life to the core.

I can’t think of a better “why” than this. 

Photo by Kevin Erdvig on Unsplash

Bringing Home the Moonbeams

There’s a line in a Frank Sinatra song that asks if we’d like to, “…carry moonbeams home in a jar.” A crazy idea. Moonbeams can’t be contained or put in a jar, but their magic can be carried home just the same. What if we could carry home the kind of wonder and light that moonbeams represent?

Life throws challenges at us every day. Deadlines. Difficult conversations. The relentless tug-of-war between expectations and reality. Yet, amid the noise, we often stumble upon moments of beauty.  Unexpected acts of kindness, moments of connection with strangers, or simply a sunrise or sunset that stops us in our tracks. These are moonbeams.

Have you ever met someone for the first time and felt their kindness so deeply that it stayed with you? Maybe it was a stranger who gave you directions with a smile, a colleague who truly listened, or someone who saw you struggling and extended their hand. These are glimpses of humanity’s greatness.  Magic moments where we see the best of who we are reflected in someone else.

What if we made it our mission to carry that magic home with us?

It’s easy to bring home the worries of the day.  Our frustrations, our stresses, our nagging self-doubt. But alongside these, we can also bring moonbeams: the small, bright moments of beauty, hope, and love that we encounter every day. We can share the wonder of a chance conversation, the joy of something new we learned, or the inspiration we felt when we saw someone overcoming adversity.

Carrying moonbeams is about being conscious of what we pass on to those we love. It’s about choosing to share curiosity instead of cynicism, gratitude instead of grumbling. It’s about being the explorer who brings back stories of the world’s beauty to share with those at home, inspiring them to see the magic in their own lives, too.

Imagine if we all carried moonbeams in our metaphorical jars. How much brighter would our homes, our communities, and our world become?

What if we could embrace the day with the motivated curiosity of an explorer. Purposely looking for the moonbeams—the fleeting magic of kindness, beauty, and connection.

Imagine carrying them home to share, not in jars, but in our words, our actions, and our presence.

Because moonbeams, once shared, have a way of multiplying.

Photo by me, capturing a “moonbeam” of a sunrise view outside my kitchen window the other day

The Ribbon of Music in Our Lives

Life is a long and winding road.  Along the way, music teaches us to let it be, to take it easy, and to carry on. Sometimes, it whispers, “you’ve got a friend,” and other times it shouts, “don’t stop believing!” Through every high and low, music lifts us when we’re down and brings light to our darkest days.

It inspires us to learn to fly, take the long way home, and dream the impossible dream. It tells us to follow the yellow brick road and live like you were dying. When the world gets heavy, we can put our toes in the water, our ass in the sand and live knee deep in the water somewhere. It’s a gentle reminder to hold on loosely or to simply keep the faith.

When we’re all alone, it wraps us in a warm embrace, softly humming, “I’m with you,” and promising, “I’ll stand by you.” It keeps us company when we’re wasting away again in Margaritaville or stranded in the purple rain (whatever that is).  

Music sets the tone for life’s moments. It’s the sweet sound of silence in the still of the night, the easy rhythms of cheeseburgers in paradise, and the fiery rush of being thunderstruck. It’s the gentle plea of someone asking, “Have you ever seen the rain?” and the daring call to take a walk on the wild side. It urges us to dance in the dark and reminds us that it’s five o’clock somewhere.

It can challenge us to ask what’s going on, or who are you? It paints visions of wide-open spaces, islands in the sun, and clear mountain mornings. It reminds us that we’re merely candles in the wind and there’s never a wish better than this when you’ve only got one hundred years to live.  So, dream until your dreams come true.

Music brings us together to clap our hands, stomp our feet, and feel the beat.  It calls us to praise every morning. It’s a bridge over troubled water.  It’s an anthem of unity.  We’re rockin’ in the free world. There ain’t no stopping us now.   

Music is more than sound.  It’s a ribbon in the sky, an endless summer, a stairway to heaven, and friends shaking hands. It weaves through our lives, bringing joy to each new day.  

Take it to the limit.  Don’t stop thinking about tomorrow.

After all, music reminds us what a wonderful world it truly is.

A quick word about copyrights.  This post is my attempt to create a cohesive thematic message using as many song lyrics as possible (trust me, there are 100’s more that didn’t fit) from artists I’ve loved over the years.  Borrowing their words was a fun writing challenge, and an homage to the original artists. 

By my quick count, I’ve referenced lyrics from over 50 songs, placing them like Easter eggs or tile fragments in a mosaic.  Most are obvious and easy to find…a few may be obscure and tougher to recognize.

In the end, it’s only rock ‘n roll, but I like it.  (couldn’t resist one more).   

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

The Strangeness of September

As a kid, September marked the end of summer’s glorious freedom and the start of another school year. Truth is, by mid-August, all the kids on my street were getting bored and restless, ready for something new.

My birthday is in September. But because it coincided with back-to-school season, my presents were school clothes. Useful, yes, but hardly the exciting stuff of childhood fantasies. My brother, whose birthday is also in September, was in the same boat—more school clothes. Still, it usually meant two cakes in one month, which always felt like a win.

Fast forward to adulthood.  September takes on a new meaning, especially if you own or run a business. It’s the last month of the third quarter—the point where you should have a pretty good idea if your business is on track for the year. Strategic planning for next year is underway — the annual cycle never stops. Little time to pause and reflect.  There’s always a new deadline, a new target. September is less about questions and more about answers and execution.

Then life throws in its own strange layers. In 2019, my father passed away on my birthday. A heavy twist of fate that turned my annual day of celebration into something far more complicated. In a strange twist of symmetry, last year, my mom died on my brother’s birthday.

Now, both of our birthdays are marked not just by the passage of time, but by the memories of losing our parents, their passing dates forever linked to our birth dates.

September marks the birth of my oldest son-in-law, my youngest daughter (32 years ago tomorrow), and one of our eight grandchildren (also tomorrow).  Lots of celebrating and gift giving…and some ice cream, of course.

All of it adds up to a certain strangeness in September for me—a month of beginnings and of endings. A mix of personal milestones and bittersweet memories.

p/c – Blessing Ri on Unsplash

Finding Laughter Amid the Chaos

Life can often feel like a series of unpredictable events coming at you without end.  In this whirlwind, maintaining a sense of humor helps make sense of it all. Humor helps us see challenges not as obstacles, but as opportunities to grow and understand.

Make the Absurd your Friend

Consider this: you’re in the middle of a presentation when your computer suddenly decides to restart for updates. Everyone in the room is waiting, and you’re left standing there. In that moment, you have a choice. You can panic, or you can laugh and say, “Well, I guess my computer decided the razzle-dazzle portion of this presentation is over.” Embracing the absurdity of the situation lightens the mood for everyone involved and shows that you can think on your feet.

Imagine you’re about to start a remote interview.  You take that last sip of coffee and spill some on your shirt.  You realize this nice brown spot is visible on the screen just as the person interviewing you joins the meeting.  It’s easy to let this ruin your day.  Instead, you can chuckle and say, “Nothing like spilling coffee on yourself to make a great first impression!” This acknowledges the problem and humanizes the situation.  Plus, you’ll have a great story to tell later. 

Adding humor to our lives makes us more resilient and improves our attitude. Not taking life too seriously is crucial. Our worries and anxieties are often fleeting. Finding humor in our daily routines, like laughing off an unexpected reboot, shifts our focus from what’s going wrong to what’s funny, fostering a more positive outlook.

Laughter’s Power

Think about a time you were stuck in traffic with friends, running late for an event. Instead of stewing in frustration, someone starts making jokes about the situation, and soon everyone is laughing. The shared humor transforms a stressful experience into a memorable one, strengthening the bonds among your friends.

Laughter connects us to others, breaks down barriers and builds a sense of community. When we share a laugh with someone, we create a bond that transcends differences and fosters empathy. In a world that often feels divided, shared humor can unify. Moments of shared joy are essential to our well-being, reminding us that we are not alone in our experiences.

Life’s unpredictability can be daunting, but it’s definitely a source of great humor if we’re looking for it.  By adopting a mindset that finds humor in the unexpected twists and turns of life, we learn to appreciate the randomness of our experiences. Next time something unexpected happens, imagine it as a scene from a sitcom, with you as the lovable main character.

Find humor in the little things. Accept the absurdity, laugh at the unexpected, and share a joke with those around you. Maintaining a sense of humor is not just about finding joy—it’s about making sense of a life that doesn’t always make sense.

As Jerry Seinfeld puts it, “If you can find humor in anything, you can survive it.”

p/c – Frank McKenna – Unsplash.com

Nothing You Love is Lost

“Nothing you love is lost.  Not really.  Things, people – they always go away, sooner or later. 

You can’t hold them any more than you can hold moonlight.  But, if they’ve touched you, if they’re inside you, then they’re still yours. 

The only things you ever really have are the ones you hold inside your heart.”

– Bruce Coville (h/t James Clear for sharing)

I’m working on a project for my kids and grandkids that has me writing answers to a series of about 75 questions.  It’ll be an autobiography of sorts…a collection of memories and stories about life from my perspective.

While answering a question that asked me to describe a typical school day, I eventually got to my life in high school. 

I found myself thinking about the first person who I’d known well that died. 

Mr. McNally, my freshman pre-algebra and senior year chemistry teacher, was killed by a drunk driver who ran a red light and broadsided his vehicle.

I hadn’t thought about Mr. McNally for many years, but the moment I thought about my time in high school, all the wonderful memories about him came flooding back.  I could see his witty smile; the lab coat he always wore in the chemistry lab. I remembered where I sat in the chem lab and the goofy glasses we had to wear when conducting experiments.     

His untimely death was devastating news for our school and all of us who knew him.  Mr. McNally was loved by his students.  He was one of the special teachers in my life.  The kind that not only teaches their subjects extremely well but had a profound impact on my growth as a person.

The unfortunate truth about life is that as the years go by, you’ll have to say goodbye to countless special people.  Family members. Friends.  Teachers. 

Some will die, some will move away.  In each case, we will lament that it was too soon.  Their departure leaves a shadow on our soul where once they belonged.    

I think the most powerful part of Coville’s quote is the way it highlights the transience of love and our relationships.  We can’t grasp or possess the moonlight, but we can admire it and the feeling it gives us.  Similarly, we can’t possess the people or experiences we love.  We can only cherish the memories and the impact they’ve had on us, and hope that we were able to return a positive impact to them.

Coville’s quote encourages us to appreciate the moments and connections we have while we have them.  Knowing that if they end, the love we shared with them and their significance endures, enriching our lives. 

May the memories you have of your loved ones remain with you always, and may those memories be a source of light and inspiration even as your journey continues without them. 

I have one favor to ask. If you enjoyed this post, please forward it to others.

p/c – Mike Labrum – Unsplash.com

Exiting the Tomb of Pessimism

“We must strive to exit our tomb of pessimism.”  I heard this phrase echo through the Cathedral during the Easter Vigil homily, a little over a week ago. 

As Catholics, we celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ every Easter…His triumphant exit from the tomb, three days after his crucifixion.

In a much smaller way, we have a daily invitation to cast off our heavy shroud of negativity.  To exit our tomb of pessimism. 

To break the shackles of hopelessness and redirect our thoughts toward a brighter horizon.    

If everything great begins with a thought or an idea, imagine channeling this power toward an optimistic future, filled with amazing possibilities. 

It’s easy to stay in this tomb of our own making, looking through the bars at all the people out there who are clearly happier, more successful, and have all the things we yearn for.    

The truth is none of them matter.  They have no impact on us…except to show us some possibilities, some ideas, and some pathways that worked for them.    

We have the power to rewrite our own narrative, to pivot our lives toward a more hopeful outlook.  The choice is ours alone. 

Escaping the tomb of pessimism demands courage and resolve. It requires us to confront our deepest fears and insecurities, to challenge the status quo of negativity that has held us captive and kept us comforted for so long.

Yet, it is only by confronting these challenges that we can find the promise of transformation.  Only through the struggle that we can discover a new sense of purpose.

Will you remain ensnared in the confines of pessimism, or will you seize the opportunity to step into the light, and walk away from your tomb of pessimism?    

The choice is yours.

Choose wisely.

p/c – Jelle de Gier – Unsplash

A Season for Renewal

True renewal is a deliberate act of self-reclamation…

p/c: a recent sunset at our little homestead

Prayer to Saint Joseph the Worker

O Glorious Saint Joseph, model of all those who are devoted to labor,

obtain for me the grace to work in a spirit of penance for the expiation of my many sins;

to work conscientiously, putting the call of duty above my natural inclinations;

to work with thankfulness and joy, considering it an honor to employ and develop by means of labor the gifts received from God;

to work with order, peace, moderation, and patience, never shrinking from weariness and trials;

to work above all with purity of intention and detachment from self, keeping unceasingly before my eyes death and the account that I must give of time lost, talents unused, good omitted, and vain complacency in success, so fatal to the work of God.

All for Jesus, all through Mary, all after thy example, O Patriarch, Saint Joseph. Such shall be my watch-word in life and in death. Amen.  – Pope St. Pius X

In life’s journey, we may find ourselves off course or losing track of our original path. We may even fail ourselves or those we love. It is in these moments that we are being called to profound self-discovery and renewal. 

Renewal is not a passive occurrence.  As the prayer to Saint Joseph states, it requires us “to work conscientiously, putting the call of duty above [our] natural inclinations.”  True renewal is a deliberate act of self-reclamation.  We have a duty to ourselves and those we love to put in the work that leads to our self-transformation. 

It isn’t easy (nothing worthwhile ever is).  It involves adapting, finding new ways, and being intentional about embracing change. 

When we realize that ours is always a season of renewal, that we can “work in a spirit of penance for the expiation of [our] many sins,” then we will be able “to work with order, peace, moderation, and patience, never shrinking from [the] weariness and trials” of our self-improvement. 

May the spirit of renewal be our guide, not diverting us from our journey but enhancing it.  May we find the resilience within us to adapt, renew, and move forward with a fresh sense of purpose and determination.

The Gentle Shepherd

This poem is dedicated to the Gentle Shepherds God brings to each of us as we make our way along His path… 

Photo by Jelle de Gier on Unsplash

Our pastor recently announced that he’ll be leaving our parish after serving here for 10 years.  Needless to say, he has had a profoundly positive impact on all of us, and he will be dearly missed. 

During his homily last Sunday, announcing that he’ll be returning home to Spain in a few short months, I kept hearing the words, Gentle Shepherd, in my mind. 

I realized these words were describing the amazing and loving man who was speaking to his flock about trusting God and the path He has for each of us.  

Inspired by Father Sergio’s loving service to our parish and his homily last Sunday, this poem is dedicated to the Gentle Shepherds God brings to each of us as we make our way along His path:     

The Gentle Shepherd

Graced with the compassionate love of God,

Through valleys of darkness, and deserts of despair,

He humbly guides his flock.

He is the Gentle Shepherd.

With fidelity to God and His Church,

Our shepherd shares with us the Word of God,

Unwrapping its sacred mysteries for all to hear.

He is the Gentle Shepherd.

Strengthened by our loving God,

He brings great tidings of joy and mercy,

Of God’s forgiveness and redemption.

He is the Gentle Shepherd.

He trusts and serves the Lord,

His purposes and His desires,

By loving and protecting each of his flock.

He is the Gentle Shepherd.

May the Lord’s blessings always shine down upon our Gentle Shepherd.

-Bob Dailey, 2022

#PadreSergioFita

The Dance of Light and Dark

I originally wrote this poem eight or nine years ago.  It was an exercise in using contrasting words, contrasting rhythms, active and passive voices, sensory symbolism, and a few other style toys that I thought would be fun to try (for a hobbyist writing nerd).

As often happens when I write, the theme I had in mind when I started was quickly overtaken by other ideas.  The words and symbolism began pointing the way.  A new theme slowly emerged.

Then, just as I was gaining momentum, some shiny objects interrupted, and I set this poem aside.  A whole bunch of amazing life events started happening and years (eight or nine to be exact) came and went.

This poem sat on the hard drive of what would become my “old” computer.  When I moved over to the new computer, somehow all the data didn’t get transferred properly to the new computer (or to any of the cloud storage locations I use today).

I forgot about the poem until a couple of weeks ago when I was looking for a fictional story I’d written.  After some searching, I realized the only place it could be was on that old computer that we hadn’t turned on in years (and that we kept for some reason).  Imagine my surprise when I was able to boot it up and look around on the hard drive for some of my old (nearly lost) work.

I found that fictional story I was looking for (maybe I’ll publish it in some form in the future), along with a bunch of other work I had forgotten…including this poem.  Again, shiny objects intervened, and I didn’t get around to re-reading this poem until today.  The toys I’d been playing with so many years ago were just lying about where this big kid had left them.

I picked up my writing toys and continued playing with the words, the styles, and the symbols.  The theme that was there so many years ago was showing itself but in a new way that I hadn’t quite seen in the past.  Again, the words and symbols pointed the way (just like Mr. Cox told us in eleventh grade English class).

I hope you enjoy it.  Let me know what you think in the comments.

 

The Dance of Light and Dark

Lengthening shadows descend across the forest floor.

The perpetual dance as day gives way to night.

Glorious palettes of color and light,

Surrendering to shadows in the growing darkness.

 

The air grows cold with the smell of decay.

Death wins a battle in its forever war on life.

 

Your heartbeat echoes behind your ears.

A quiet rhythm of life.

You hear the mournful wail of a distant companion, howling for a moon not yet risen.

 

Stars shine like pinholes through a curtain.

The moon rises in the distance, casting new light in the dark.

 

While creatures of the night toil in the shadows,

Hunting and evading, hiding and pouncing, dying and surviving.

They don’t know what their future holds.

Pain or comfort.

Life or death.

 

Trees moan quietly as they sway against the wind’s unending assault.

Each is alone in the crowd to persevere as they must.

These trees know without knowing that morning will come.

A distant dream in the long cold night that’s just beginning.

 

Morning brings new light.

An eternity of hope.

Wistful breezes carry the freshness of this glorious day.

The sun lends its brilliant glow to all that it touches.

 

A new day, with promises to make.

Promises to fulfill.

Promises of life, of love, of laughter, and joy.

 

This dance of light and dark,

Of hope and despair,

Of life and death.

An eternity before,

An eternity after.

This dance is our journey.

This dance is each of us.

 

Photo by Casey Horner on Unsplash