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

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

 

 

DAWA, Coronavirus, and Normal

I remember thinking how simple it all sounded, and I was relieved to know I had a model to follow. What I didn’t know at the time is that this simple model is anything but simple…

 

Denial.

Anger.

Withdrawal.

Acceptance.

I first learned about these stages of grief when Grandma Anne died (over 30 years ago).  My cousin, who was a newly minted police officer at the time, described how he received training on this model in the police academy.

I remember thinking how simple it all sounded, and I was relieved to know I had a model to follow.  What I didn’t know at the time is that this simple model is anything but simple.

Models provide a basis for understanding a concept or an idea…and that’s helpful.  Models make the complex seem simple.  But models rarely capture the layers of detail or the often-gut-wrenching processes they describe.

Today, the DAWA model is a bit outdated.  Additional “stages” have been added over the years to the original model.  Stages like shock, bargaining, depression, and testing are layered into discussions of the grieving process nowadays.

How does all of this relate to the Coronavirus?

Thanks to Coronavirus, we are suddenly sharing a grief experience with every person on the planet, at the same time.  Every single one of us has lost something extremely important because of Coronavirus.

The normal that we knew, the normal that we understood, the normal that we took for granted…died over the last 30-60 days.  If you could ask all 6 billion-plus people on Earth when, exactly, normal died, their answers would vary by a few days or few weeks.  But nobody would deny that their normal is gone.

When we grieve or face a major crisis in our lives, we come together with others, we gather closer to the people we love, we comfort each other with hugs and shared laughter.  We cry together.  We cook together.  We share meals.  We share stories about what we’ve lost.  We might go to an inspirational concert and hold hands while we sway and sing along with tears streaming down our faces.

We love to be with people, even if we describe ourselves as introverts or “not a people person.”

Unfortunately, that part of normal has also died (at least for a while).

While it doesn’t look like it (because our beloved normal is gone), we are all grieving.  Every one of us.

Make no mistake about it.  Something we loved, something we treasure, and something we counted on has died.  We are grieving our loss, even as events unfold in front of us that may make things worse before they get better.

We probably don’t think we have time right now to grieve.  But, we’re each somewhere on the DAWA continuum of denial, anger, withdrawal, or acceptance.  In fact, we’re bouncing around on that continuum today.

We’ve lost our normal, and we’re being forced to live in a new normal.  This new normal will probably give way to yet another new normal a few months from now.  None of us know what any of this will look like.  That mystery is an unfortunate part of our new normal (as crazy as it may sound).

It’s normal to be in denial.  It’s normal to be angry.  It’s normal to withdraw or try to escape.  It’s also normal, and necessary, to find acceptance.

Acceptance doesn’t mean giving up.  It means that the energy we’ve been using to fight the new normal can be channeled toward making the best of what’s in front of us.

Sure, we all miss our beloved normal from the past.  We’d prefer to have our old normal back in our lives.  But we must find a way to accept, to allow ourselves to rest, and let go of our longing.

The good news is that we’ve each had normal die before.  We’ve had to adjust to new normals throughout our life and we’re generally pretty good at it:

  • Moving from one school to another and making new friends
  • Graduating high school or college
  • Starting our first “real” job
  • Leaving our first job
  • Starting our second job
  • Meeting the person of our dreams that we plan to spend the rest of our life with
  • Divorcing that person
  • Experiencing the death of a loved one
  • Becoming a parent (or a grandparent)
  • Starting your own business
  • Selling that business
  • Losing a house and everything we own in a fire
  • The knee injury that forced you to stop playing your favorite game
  • Having your house destroyed in a tornado

These are all examples of events in our lives that require us to let go of the old normal and embrace the new normal.  Sometimes the new normal is because of something amazingly good, and other times it’s caused by something amazingly bad.

I’m not sure I’ve reached the acceptance stage in my own grieving process.  I tell myself that I’m there, but I know it’s not always true.  As I work through the process and prepare myself for what lies ahead, I like to keep this list of ideas in mind:

  • Take things one day at a time
  • Prayer is your instant connection to someone who loves you completely
  • Celebrate your victories, no matter how small
  • Give yourself a break
  • Be grateful and enjoy what you have
  • Forgive yourself for not knowing exactly what to do (none of us know, which is true a lot more than we’d like to admit)
  • Only allow yourself to worry about the future for a few minutes each day and move on. I’d say to stop worrying completely since worrying is a non-productive use of energy, but I know it’s not possible to eliminate it completely.
  • Check-in once each day for the news on Coronavirus, and what the latest government directions are (social distancing, masks or no masks, etc.). By now, you know the symptoms, what you’re supposed to be doing to prevent the spread, and what you’re supposed to do if you or someone close to you become symptomatic.  The rest is probably not super useful, and you can catch-up on all of it during your once-a-day check in.
  • Be kind to others. Your kindness will go a long way and may lead to more kindness in your “downstream.”  Even a smile to a stranger letting them know we’re all in this together is helpful.  By the way, your eyes show your smile, even if your mask doesn’t.
  • Realize that you are grieving, and so is everyone else. We will each have good days and bad days in our grief journey.
  • Take time to gather with your friends and family members by phone, video conference, or even a nice email note.  These are your people.  Embrace them remotely.

We are living through future history.  The events happening around us and to us today will be discussed, debated, and written about for decades to come.  Our lives are forever changed, and the changes are continuing to unfold.

We can use our energy to reach back to the past with all that we have, searching for the normal that’s gone.

Or, we can channel our energy to reach toward the future, creating the best possible new normal for ourselves and our loved ones.

While I grieve for the past, I choose to reach for the future.

Photo by Mike Labrum on Unsplash