How ironic that one tiny, fleeting moment can fill the heart, and that the resulting fullness renders one nearly weightless!
Savoring moments like velvety spoonfuls of an ice-cream sundae, Sylvia and Erma discover the key to successful dieting.
Being happy. Zero calories.
Erma: Sylvia, you can’t measure the immeasurable.
Sylvia: Thank goodness, Erma. That explains why I’m at my lightest when I’m at my happiest.
Hopes. Dreams. Wishes. Love. Joy. Trust. Respect. And so much more. You must keep filling your basket which of course requires energy.
Erma constantly reminds Sylvia to take good care of herself first- something Erma learned the hard way but she eventually learned!
The gals’ suggestion for today and definitely for the weekend: Do something just for you!
Ever have a time when you can’t shake a word, a melody, or feeling? You just cannot get whatever it is out of your mind? It happens to Erma more often than she’d like and usually when she should be concentrating on something or someone else. The word that has been stuck in her craw both last night and as she starts this new day is “delivery” (happy to say that it’s no longer gnawing at her since she decided to share her annoyance with Sylvia for a change) — yes, delivery. Indeed.
Of course, dealing with the impediment of having this word caught in my mind’s eye has been more than a tad annoying, but like the storms we’ve weathered recently, its presence no longer hinders and the reason for its resonance has become clear. Just as the storm arrives fiercely and then leaves quietly so that we may know what calm truly means, the word delivery keeps coming to the forefront of my mind so that I can find direction and purpose. The reminder succinctly: I need to deliver.
Delivery to most people means the act of dropping off something or making a deposit. It suggests a completed action. For me, it encompasses so much more. It means starting something, creating, producing, and feeling. Life is all about the delivery! How one delivers an idea, a gift, a speech, and even a baby reveals intention.
I’ve been thinking, writing, and editing a great deal (to some extent ad nauseum which is both necessary and painfully characteristic of most writers at various times), and doing all three because I firmly believe in the power of delivery. Delivery demonstrates intention– one can deliver with sincerity, with humor, with love, with hope, and with gratitude. On the flip side, one can also deliver with fear, with sarcasm, with disdain, with disgust, and with flagrant disregard. The difference is intention. And people -our connections, our friendships, and our daily audience- create intention. I’ll share with you that my audience motivates me and creates intent and purpose, both surprisingly and knowingly. I’m responsible for the delivery, but each of you reminds me that simply being and doing will get me through the day but will not necessarily make the most of my day. Each of you -my family; my friends (my Sylvias and Ermas) near and far; my father; and often my son (that young man especially inspires me)- every single one of you makes me think more deliberately about how I live and deliver both me and my message to the world.
What’s the message today?
On this Friday, Good Friday for many and at sundown tonight the beginning of Passover for others, I’m finally able to get past this sticking point and carry myself from pause to purpose. Hoping that your weekend delivers you from any troubles that may be weighing on you and brings you to a place of peace and purpose– wherever you need to be at the moment.
Mark this one delivered with love from Erma.
You may not be able to teach an old dog new tricks, but Sylvia & Erma know better than anyone that old chicks and new tricks go together like peanut butter and jelly, coffee and muffins, and wine and chocolate.
Take a look and a listen to their new YouTube channel, especially their playlist. Don’t forget to subscribe so that you’ll know when “the gals” go live. Stay tuned. https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCvXlx7iqvz2zPRaGsgtjjHA
Do you see that? Yes, that right there? I’m a part of that. Just an ever-so-small but necessary part of this microcosm. I say necessary because today I’m sitting at a table looking out on this daunting yet somehow comforting urban landscape and feeling that I belong.
Lately as I’ve been sharing with Erma before I can share with anyone else, I have felt like I’ve been playing Jenga; but today, this afternoon to be exact, as I furiously click away at the keyboard just rambling (I like to think of it as collecting thoughts) and trying to make chicken soup from chicken shit, I realized that I am not playing Jenga at all. I am a piece, THE piece, in the game. I’m that corner block, the one on the 39th floor, the one that has windows from top to bottom that always gets light. I’m the block that gets so much light that it can make the room uncomfortably warm on occasion. That same block also provides the only heat source at times. I’m also that single puzzle piece that when missing prohibits you from completing the game but only because you have no choice. That misplaced piece almost always requires the game to come to an end, an anti-climax of sort forever making the feelings of completion, fulfillment, and what some might consider victory elusive until that piece can be substituted, replicated, or replaced.
Erma: Sylvia, I have absolutely no idea where you are going with this. Are you saying that life would be incomplete without you? Are you saying that you are an integral part of life as we know it? What the hell are you saying?
Sylvia: Let me see if I can explain it better. I’ll pour us each a cup because this might take a bit.
I don’t pretend that I am so relevant that life could not or would not go on without me; that’s not at all what I’m suggesting. The corner piece of the building does not hold up the rest; and obviously, it’s not a part of the foundation. It rests upon and garners its strength from all of its surround. Here’s what that block/piece represents though – it’s how I’m beginning to see myself. I’ve learned that while everyone does not particularly enjoy its presence (especially when it is unbearably warm in the summer sun, even with the air conditioning running steadily), there are many who count on it. Just being there to fill in. Well, guess what? I’m not replaceable or even an interim filler. I’m not an extraneous puzzle piece! I’m the biggest piece– in my game. So, if you make it to the 39th floor, and you can stand the bright light and the warmth, even when it is a scorcher of a day, participate in the game because here’s what I, Sylvia, and every Erma has learned over time: the 39th floor has the most magnificent and bold views. And once you have reached the 39th, there really is no need to go any farther. That corner room is the most welcoming, the brightest, the warmest, and the only piece in that game of Jenga capable, strong, and perfect enough for the place it occupies.
Be the irreplaceable piece in your game. Sylvia’s scraping skies, and she’s going to come out on top. If you want the view and can stand the fluctuating temperatures, join her. If not, the elevator going down is right there waiting for you.
Today the full sun isn’t drawing any lines. Sylvia’s feeling everything at once. Erma’s just arrived to help provide the guide lines. Guide lines not guidelines.
There is a thin line that separates laughter and pain, comedy and tragedy, humor and hurt. ~Erma Bombeck
#breathe
You do not need to become worthy. You were born worthy! Be perfectly imperfect as was the plan all along.
Sylvia and Erma are each doing their own thing this Saturday morning. One thing’s for sure though- they’ll catch up with each other later and remind one another with a little push from Viola that each [of them] is exactly as God/the universe intended. Meanwhile, Sylvia’s sharing a favorite of hers (author unknown).
The story goes:
When God created Woman, he was working late on the sixth day.
An Angel came by and asked, “Why spend so much time on her?”
The Lord answered, “Have you seen all the specifications I have to meet to shape her?
She must function on all kinds of situations.
She must be able to embrace several kids at the same time, have a hug that can heal anything from a bruised knee to a broken heart.
She must do all this with only two hands.
She cures herself when sick and can work 18 hours a day.”
The Angel was impressed. “Just two hands? Impossible! And this is the standard model?”
The Angel came closer and touched the woman. “But you have made her so soft, Lord.”
“She is soft,” said the Lord, “but I have made her strong. You can’t imagine what she can endure and overcome.”
“Can she think?” the Angel asked.
The Lord answered, “Not only can she think, she can reason and negotiate.:
The Angel touched her cheeks. “Lord, it seems this creation is leaking! You have put too many burdens on her.”
“She is not leaking. It is a tear,” the Lord corrected the Angel.
“What’s it for?” asked the Angel.
The Lord said, “Tears are her way of expressing her grief, her doubts, her love, her loneliness, her suffering and her pride.”
This made a big impression on the Angel. “Lord, you are a genius. You thought of everything. A woman is indeed marvelous.”
The Lord said, “Indeed she is. She has strength that amazes a man. She can handle trouble and carry heavy burdens. She holds happiness, love and opinions.”
She smiles when she feels like screaming. She sings when she feels like crying, cries when happy and laughs when afraid. She fights for what she believes in.
Her love is unconditional. Her heart is broken when a next-of-kin or a friend dies but she finds strength to get on with life.
The Angel asked, “So she is a perfect being?”
The Lord replied, “No. She has just one drawback.
SHE OFTEN FORGETS WHAT SHE IS WORTH.”
—Author unknown
(Picture/painting credit: S.Chakamian)
Sylvia’s finally learning the difference between kindness and love. The hard way.
Don’t confuse kindness with love. Kindness you give away freely. Love requires a key.
“Erma, start a pot brewing. We’ve got lots to talk about.”
Sometimes coffee is just coffee, but coffee delivered to a perfectly-appointed hotel room is a decadent indulgence that Erma always enjoyed on her girls’ getaways. So, this sunny Sunday morning, before Sylvia heads back home to weather another storm in life- just a little teacup tempest not full-blown furor-she’s treating herself to a deep, dark, steaming roast. In bed. It’s the jump start she needs.
For those of you acquainted with Sylvia and The Best Cup of Coffee Sylvia Ever Had, the coffee is steaming not steamy at this hour. But hey, the day is young. Enjoy, friends.
_____________________________
Making coffee has become the great compromise of the decade. It’s the only thing “real” men do that doesn’t seem to threaten their masculinity. To women, it’s on the same domestic entry level as putting the spring back into the toilet-tissue holder or taking a chicken out of the freezer to thaw.
— Erma Bombeck
Sylvia deliberates, ponders, ruminates, and reflects. Today, Erma has reminded her that life doesn’t always have to be difficult.
#findingmyway #becomingme #overthinking #overfiftyandfine #lifeliveit #yourlifeyourchoice #keepitsimple
"ARE YOU THERE, ERMA? IT'S ME, SYLVIA." 