Tom’s Music on Primetime CBS show

My lovely husband. I am so proud of him. Although his ‘day job’ is wonderful and he’s an amazing leader of his organization, I know that his passion is his music which does in his off hours. Last year he completed his 2nd album, ironically titled Everything Takes Forever, a five year project?! It’s a beautiful CD.

He just received word that one of his songs—“Even So” from his 2nd CD Everything Takes Forever will be used on the CBS prime time show, Ghost Whisperer, tonight Friday (2/13/09, 8:00 PM ET; 7:00 PM CT) If you’d like, check it out.

Also, his website is:

www.myspace.com/tomhansonmusic in case you want to stop by to sample.

Peace to all, Melody

Compulsivity and Change

Between stimulus and response, there is a space.

In that space lies our freedom and power to choose our response.

In our response lies our growth and our freedom.*

STIMULUS —————> Freedom to Choose –————> OUR RESPONSE

For years it has been a compulsive habit to chew my nails. Frankly it’s a disgusting habit, and it is an instant signal to me (and to others unfortunately) that I’m feeling insecure. When I was in high school I noticed that my very accomplished and well-educated teacher had disgusting, chewed to the quick, nails. And I realized in that moment, which felt extremely profound to me as an 11th grader, that my teacher was insecure. And if you combined the fact that she over-weight, in my mind, she was extremely insecure.

My take away, I was not the only one! I know it seems strange, but at that point in my life, I was self-aware enough to see that I was insecure I didn’t realize that other people were too. But in that amazing moment in my class I accepted that other people were insecure too. I will never forget it.

What makes us so afraid of change? It takes three weeks to make a habit, supposedly. So are we basically lazy, or don’t believe in ourselves enough to change, do we think we somehow deserve what we have, or are we afraid of change? I’ve been thinking a lot about this as I work on internal and external issues. Internally, I am working on liking myself and acknowledging good and positive things about myself. Externally I am working on liking myself and fixing the things I don’t like. Actually, I’m working on change in both places.

But it’s seriously more familiar to stick my head in the sand, as they say, and just ignore the scale, my energy level, my moods, my low esteem for myself, and the good people in my life that love me and accept me. Even as I write I can see how screwy it is. But, it is….what it is.

But I’m working toward looking for the indicators in my life that say other truths. Although I have some friends who have said that I’m too difficult, manipulative, unpredictable, mean-spirited …. I have others who have said my story, my experiences, my processing my pain, helps them. Do I focus on the one that feels like rejection or on the positive?

Well, you know what I do choose, habitually and compulsively. The NEGATIVE!

Listening to those positive people, it doesn’t mean that the others were wrong. Alcoholics are manipulative. I am broken. Many times extremely dysfunctional. I am needy. I a’m impulsive. I am unfaithful. I’m … see how easy it is to make that list? (Deep breath.) But not always. Not completely. And I’m working to change. I cannot change the past, and even some relationships I can’t fix. As much as that hurts, I can’t stay there. And I trust that some day, something redemptive will happen there.

But for now, it’s on to mastering my life!

So, about the life change: I’ve been dieting and exercising for two weeks, Sunday, and had gotten pretty discouraged because I wasn’t losing weight more quickly. I started at 168.5 and yesterday, at noon the scale still said 165, which makes me fucking furious. (Please excuse my cursing. It’s a inelegant habit. Perhaps one of these days I’ll work on it too, but until then …)

Today I was finally at 163!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’ve changed two things.

1) I weighed myself first thing in the morning, before I got ready for the day, before eating, drinking my coffee, and exercising, and it was lower. Wahoo!

2) I actually think I may have been eating too few calories, so as Tom has told me a million times, my body thinks I’m starving it and goes into hoarding calories. It is impossible to lose weight in those circumstances. And although the fact is weird, I just lose my appetite when I’m not eating. And I’m just compulsive enough to not slam a bunch of carbohydrates if I happen to feel hungry, like I normally would. A chocolate croissant or even a Big Mac for lunch, yes that is me. (Did you know a Big Mac is 600 calories or something? That’s like half the day’s calories if you’re watching it.) So instead I’d have a couple pieces of string cheese or a hand full of almonds or a protein bar, none of which is more than 200 calories and not enough for a meal.

Anyway, lessons for life. Making positive change in your life is firstly about believing in yourself. Deciding, just for today, I’m going to do something different. Not glancing back at yesterday, for it is likely to have some failures. And NOT looking at it like it is for the rest of your life. It’s today. What am I eating that is in the positive column, if you will: fruit, veggies, protein, even carbs if they are grains that are good for you. Did I exercise in any manner. Why not a 15 minute walk? or, something else.

If I’ve learned anything about this alcohol addiction it is live for today. Today is the one I can do something about, not yesterday, and not tomorrow. Just this minute. Make it count.

* The Seven Habits of Highly Effective Familes, Stephen R. Covey

Mastery of Life: About Face!

The whole idea of blogging about diet and exercise is such a pedestrian stereotype. But be warned, this is a journal about a personal transformation. No, even better, my personal body revolution! No blood will be shed, but change is occurring! And if, by following along, it is meaningful to others, that’s a reward too. I won’t be preposterous and say it with help someone. But I know MANY people struggle with “issues” of weight loss or gain, disordered eating and body hatred, so that’s why I make this journal public. It will be about mastering my body and life.

A week ago Sunday I began to use our treadmill for a long walking workout. Every day, I walk for at least an hour, because this gives my body a “wake up” time and then once it (my body) is fully awake and functional, I give it a good hard sweat. Doing this, I am able to burn from 500-750 calories in about an hour. And I feel great afterwords. I drink about 32 oz. of water during and after the workout and am feeling really good. I know I just said that, but it bears repeating! This type of workout makes me feel really, really good.

When I quit drinking in July, 08 my weight was up to 169, which is the very highest my weight has ever been when not pregnant or recovering from pregnancy. I’ve always said I will never ‘get fat’ I am not certain that I have the willpower to take it off. As members of my family have struggled with their weight for years, the yo-yo of a life of dieting was something I feared. I do not want that!! I’m afraid of that eventuality. An yet, here I am at 42 and 168 or so pounds, and the scale and my BMI tell me I am over-weight at 5’6″. As I said, I thought when I quit drinking that the weight would drop off, but I guess that my body had adjusted and was comfortable with it. This puts me at a size 14 and uncomfortable. For about a half a year I have been in MAJOR denial about this weight gain. But you can’t deny it forever and hitting 170 would be it for me. There’s no denying it.

Since giving birth to three kids in 1997, 1999 and 1991, I carried about ten pounds for each child. In 1992 I tried the first diet of my life more out of a desire to be supportive to Tom. I can actually say that South Beach diet works and I lost 17 pounds in about two months. I was a beautiful size ten and I have to say that I felt fantastic. I wasn’t working out at all and people told me I looked “unhealthy.” But for the first time in years the heavy, bloated, thick-waisted feeling was gone.

So now, in my closets I have my skinny clothes (did I just say my skinny clothes? Ew!) (9-10s), my medium clothes (11-12s), and my heavy clothes (solid 14).

All this rambling brings me to today. As already mentioned, a week ago Sunday I started working out and watching my calories. Tom’s the kind of dieter that counts calories, tallying in his mind all day long. When he gets to his limit he stops eating. For me, counting calories doesn’t work. I can’t remember the value of everything and after about three or four days of writing everything down on scrap pieces of paper in the kitchen, I want to scream and stop writing things down. But with eating through out the day and then a workout to subtract and have no idea where I am.

During the first week, I fluctuated up and down, but couldn’t break the 165 barrier. Frustrated and confused, I kept limiting calories and exercising every day, and drinking lots of water…. Yesterday, finally, after two weeks, I weighed in at 165. Today it is 166 again.

OH, just to be clear: My commitment is daily exercise and I’m going to apply Phase I of the South Beach Diet. The South Beach is perfect for me. It’s simple, healthy, and kicks my body into turbo calorie burning. I need the immediate results. I can’t wait to see what happens next although today I’m frustrated to not see results yet. To be sure, it didn’t help to eat some birthday cake last night. Strictly speaking I broke all the rules, but, I’m back on the plan today. Cheese and meat for breakfast. Lots of water. I woke up with a pick ax behind my eyeballs, which has been a reoccurring problem and Tom’s theory is I’m dehydrated.

More later on, the psychology of dieting and the South Beach program and why I like it.

Goal: 140 March 15th!

1/16/09 168

Meeting Patrick.

humbledOriginally uploaded by M e l o d y

It’s been a while since I’ve posted.

This is worth re-posting (from April, 08 on my flickr account.)

Humbled. It isn’t often that I meet someone who I instinctively want to protect; to grab hold of and hold on tight. And take them home with me to keep them safe. Take them home to my warm house full of laughter and hugs, and a home cooked dinner at 6:00, with books, music and photographs, a warm cozy bed with a fluffy pillow and most importantly love.

I met that person today and he knows who he is. It seems overly dramatic to say I’ll never be the same, but I think that is true.

Perspective. My life with its ups and downs, even my struggles to heal my mental health, my life is good. I have shall we say ‘issues’ and I find it difficult to find balance, but my life has been a cake walk compared to so many people’s. And I am grateful.

I am loved unconditionally. I am accepted for who I am as a woman, a wife, a mother, a feminist, a person of faith, a white person, and a heterosexual. Oh sure, I didn’t exactly feel unconditionally loved by my parents, but I think in retrospect I was accepted, encouraged, and affirmed. I was safe (mostly.) Those things that are huge to a child. At a minimum, what every child deserves. But they deserve better than just food and shelter, they really do.

People need to be accepted. I am aware today how as you live and work around people you never know their challenges. They may not have the next meal, they may not have a place to live. They may not have anyone in their life that loves them unabashedly.

I keep thinking about how blind we can be. We need to care for those around us. Do we truly accept friends and family just as they are and not expect them to change for us or for any person or institution. I certainly don’t do this perfectly, but at least I am aware of my own propensity to want my kids to ‘be smart’ to ‘do better’ or ‘behave according to standards’ or ‘be x, y, or z.’ I’m aware of it and because of what I’ve been through, and because of people like the person I met today, I will continue to fight against that thing inside me that says ‘fit in,’ ‘don’t make choices that will alienate you from Society.’ Okay, I’m dancing around the issue of our children’s sexuality something we have no control over. Oh, I know there are debates about whether sexuality is nature or nurture, a choice or biological. I’m not having that conversation simply saying love each other damn it!.

Unconditionally loving others. It is a profoundly difficult way to live but so important.

Enough preaching.

A poem I wrote a while back about growing up NOT feeling loved.

It returned, again
The dream that continues to visit me
Night after night
Year after year,
Unbidden. Uninvited
Not unexpected, but unwelcome.
A dream that says
You are unwanted.
Question yourself.
Question love.
Doubt everything you know to be true.
Nothing is real.
A solitary thought that says
Night after night
In various, complicated dreams
You are Unlovely, unlovable.
The fragile peace that comes by day
Is broken during the dark hours of sleep.

“Nobody’s Perfect” Give me a break!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I am sitting here listening to the White House Press Secretary and I just want to scream. Of course I generally support our new President but give me a break. This isn’t accountability or new leadership. This isn’t reformation. This is same old government.

“Nobody’s perfect” is their response to Daschle not paying his taxes. I want to know what would happen to me if I don’t pay my taxes.

I just mailed in a check for more than $3,200 for HALF my property taxes. What would happen if I just “forgot” to pay, or if I made an “honest mistake?” If I said, well, “nobody’s perfect.” What would happen?

Well I just checked and quess what? The average American citizen, that’s you and me, we would, after ignoring many letters from the government informing us of our need to pay, would face …

If you continue to pursue your personal revolt against taxation, it could cost you! The government has the right to recoup its money as it sees fit. It can:

Place a levy on your bank account

Place a lien on your home

Seize your car, boat, or any other personal or real property of value

Simply put, failure to file, failure to pay and tax evasion can result in any number of civil and even criminal punishments, including imprisonment.

I’m pissed off. Why do they have different rules for politicians???? Tell me what you think? And here’s what I think.

Let’s vet all politicians – make it a prerequisite for the job. I’m thinking, if two out of Obama’s cabinet have now had issues with not paying taxes, there’s like a few more old dogs in Washington that think they can get away with ROBBING the American people. It’s no coincidence, people. They are ripping us off WHILE we pay their salaries.

Here they are, asking us to fork over billions in bailouts, when they are even keeping their own houses clean.

I’m angry and disgusted.

This information was found at: http://money.howstuffworks.com/did-not-pay-taxes1.htm

We’re all going to die: 100 meters of exsistance.

There are many fine photographers in the world. But they are not all creative. They are technically good but lack imagination. I highlight the Danish photographer, Simon Høgsberg, because he came up with the idea to photograph pedestrians on a bridge in Berlin for 20 days.

The result is a “an incredible encounter a rich, vast humanity; highs and lows, love and rage, boredom and interest, the beautiful and the ugly, and all the realms inbetween where we average folk live life. It is well worth the few minutes it takes to take it in.

http://www.simonhoegsberg.com/we_are_all_gonna_die/slider.html

In memorium: John Updike

It just hit me, I heard John Updike interviewed on the radio just the other day for he had written a sequel to The Witches of Eastwick. I was interested to hear that he has been criticized for not writing strong female characters. His Eastwick books were an attempt to remedy the criticism that his “women are never on the move, that they’re always stuck where the men have put them.” His “only defense,” he said, “would be that it’s in the domesticity, the family, the sexual relations, that women interest me…” I can buy that, personally. We write what we’re passionate about and he left “IT” to others; I wonder: Why, in today’s Politically Correct times, do we expect EVERYTHING to be laden with message? I don’t have the answer, I’m just posing the question.

Mr. Updike wrote what he knew, what he liked. I liked his gritty take on what he called “the middles.”

“My subject is the American Protestant small-town middle class,” Mr. Updike told Jane Howard in a 1966 interview for Life magazine. “I like middles,” he continued. “It is in middles that extremes clash, where ambiguity restlessly rules.”

Were I to die, no one would say,

“Oh, what a shame!

So young, so full

Of promise — depths unplumbable!”

Instead, a shrug and tearless eyes

Will greet my overdue demise;

The wide response will be, I know,

“I thought he died a while ago.”

For life’s a shabby subterfuge,

And death is real, and dark, and huge.

The shock of it will register

Nowhere but where it will occur.

— JOHN UPDIKE

I will most remember Mr. Updike for his opinions, though so easily forgotten because they were prolific; the essays, book reviews, art criticism, reminiscences, introductions, forewords, prefaces, speeches, travel notes, film commentary, prose sketches, and ruminations.

He also wrote more than 25 novels and dozens of books of short stories. He was best known for his Rabbit series (Rabbit, Run; Rabbit Redux; Rabbit Is Rich; Rabbit At Rest; and Rabbit Remembered) which I have never read. Both Rabbit is Rich and Rabbit at Rest received the Pulitzer Prize. I will have to check these out.

“To give the mundane its beautiful due.” Not a bad life purpose I say.

Excerpts taken from The New York Times online.

My Poetry: The Quandary of Motherhood

As with all my poetry, this is written to be read ALOUD, slowly.

Motherhood is not simply a connection

from womb to life. It is that, and

a bond created by choice.

In the choosing, it is the care of another that ties you in a life giving way.

It cannot be fully understood, only carried out.

Many a day I am incomplete.

I question how I could be the one

doing the loving, the providing, the choosing of another.

Ah, then I realize, again and again,

motherhood isn’t perfection

nor accomplishment.

But it is in the choosing, daily.

Choosing to be the advocate, the provider, the buffer

between the world and this one child that I love.

As I sit on the floor with her.

As she sobs the sorrow of a thousand broken hearts.

As I think “who can I hurt” for causing this anguish?

As I consider the quiet relief that I want to confer,

likewise the pain I want to inflict on someone else;

As I think, I know the answer.

I am duty-bound to my child that I love

and to all children

to love. Destined to listen, to bring solace.

To uphold all in my path. And it is not glorious or praise-worthy.

It simply is a choice

of Motherhood.

Although it is not even possible to anticipate and prevent all pain

from this child, my child, any child;

I am beholden to all children,

to endure this quandary of motherhood.

Written by MHH, January 26, 2009

Why I am not Patriotic

I don’t know if it was being born outside the United States though I am not a citizen of Papua New Guinea (they don’t allow it.) Or being raised a global citizen by parents that knew what that meant and lived it but I have been privileged to be friends with people from all over the world. I don’t know if it is because my closest friends are non-white or are “mutts” like me which were raised as 3rd culture kids. I don’t know if it is because my family moved eight or nine times, before I finished high school. I don’t really know why, but I am not that proud of and I don’t get gushy about, being an “American” and most of the times in my life that I’ve been identified as American, it’s been embarrassing.

In that context, I just have to comment on how inspired I am by our President-elect, Obama — by his life, his choices, his rise to leadership, responsibility and authority, his civic care & commitment, his educational achievements, and his healthy family.

In one of his speeches recently, he said:

” In this country, we rise or fall as one nation, as one people. Let’s resist the temptation to fall back on the same partisanship and pettiness and immaturity that has poisoned our politics for so long ….

To those who would tear the world down: We will defeat you. To those who seek peace and security: We support you. And to all those who have wondered if America’s beacon still burns as bright: Tonight we proved once more that the true strength of our nation comes not from the might of our arms or the scale of our wealth, but from the enduring power of our ideals: democracy, liberty, opportunity and unyielding hope ….

This is our moment. This is our time, to put our people back to work and open doors of opportunity for our kids; to restore prosperity and promote the cause of peace; to reclaim the American Dream and reaffirm that fundamental truth, that, out of many, we are one; that while we breathe, we hope. And where we are met with cynicism and doubts and those who tell us that we can’t, we will respond with that timeless creed that sums up the spirit of a people: Yes, we can.”

And so, I’m feeling a little proud to have a decent, intelligent President-elect that inspires and challenges me. And I suppose I’m caught up in that sense of hopefulness. That is why I highlight this YouTube song here on my blog. Because although I am not yet that proud to be an American, this song gives me hope! Even if it is a country song. Even if it uses that old language of the Christian faith: born again. It has nothing to do with that.

And believe it or not, I have signed the pledge on the Born Again website. I commit to sort out how I can do something to make my country, my community in Madison, a better place for the less fortunate, the widow, the orphan, the incarderated, the poor. This will take fortitude, commitment, deep thought and prayer.

If it is true I am my country’s keeper then we must commit ourselves to being active, involved and thoughtful citizens—a Born Again American? It sounds like an unlikely use of words, but I like it.

Will you share your voice. Declare your commitment. Perhaps sign the Pledge. Make your own video or add to the lyrics of the song and share it with the world!

And let me know what you decided to do! And I will do likewise.

Let America be America Again, by Langston Hughes

Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.

(America never was America to me.)

Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed–
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above.

(It never was America to me.)

O, let my land be a land where Liberty
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,
But opportunity is real, and life is free,
Equality is in the air we breathe.

(There’s never been equality for me,
Nor freedom in this “homeland of the free.”)

Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?
And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?

I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,
I am the Negro bearing slavery’s scars.
I am the red man driven from the land,
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek–
And finding only the same old stupid plan
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.

I am the young man, full of strength and hope,
Tangled in that ancient endless chain
Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!
Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!
Of work the men! Of take the pay!
Of owning everything for one’s own greed!

I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.
I am the worker sold to the machine.
I am the Negro, servant to you all.
I am the people, humble, hungry, mean–
Hungry yet today despite the dream.
Beaten yet today–O, Pioneers!
I am the man who never got ahead,
The poorest worker bartered through the years.

Yet I’m the one who dreamt our basic dream
In the Old World while still a serf of kings,
Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,
That even yet its mighty daring sings
In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned
That’s made America the land it has become.
O, I’m the man who sailed those early seas
In search of what I meant to be my home–
For I’m the one who left dark Ireland’s shore,
And Poland’s plain, and England’s grassy lea,
And torn from Black Africa’s strand I came
To build a “homeland of the free.”

The free?

Who said the free? Not me?
Surely not me? The millions on relief today?
The millions shot down when we strike?
The millions who have nothing for our pay?
For all the dreams we’ve dreamed
And all the songs we’ve sung
And all the hopes we’ve held
And all the flags we’ve hung,
The millions who have nothing for our pay–
Except the dream that’s almost dead today.

O, let America be America again–
The land that never has been yet–
And yet must be–the land where every man is free.
The land that’s mine–the poor man’s, Indian’s, Negro’s, ME–
Who made America,
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,
Must bring back our mighty dream again.

Sure, call me any ugly name you choose–
The steel of freedom does not stain.
From those who live like leeches on the people’s lives,
We must take back our land again,
America!

O, yes,
I say it plain,
America never was America to me,
And yet I swear this oath–
America will be!

Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,
We, the people, must redeem
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.
The mountains and the endless plain–
All, all the stretch of these great green states–
And make America again!

Langston Hughes, wow, one of my favorite poets. Prophetic. Incredible. He spoke in ways no one else could. On this historic weekend, before Barack Obama will be sworn in, I am drawn back to where we came from lest we ever forget. We dare not forget!

Flow of Consciousness: 16 Random Things About Me

Originally uploaded by M e l o d y

A contact on flickr, Charlotte Augusta, sent me an email that said that I’d been tagged for the 16 Things group, explaining “. . . this means you have to post a picture and tell us 16 random facts about yourself. Then tag 16 other people.” Because she’s such a great person, I have tried to write it and quite enjoyed doing so, but the perfectionist in my is hurting (LOL) from the thought of writing a definitive 16. As for tagging, I hate being so forward so I’ll save that for the end of this post. – Melody

16 RANDOM FACTS ABOUT ME

1.When I was not even two years old, I nearly choked to death on a peanut. We were in Papua New Guinea in the late 60’s and medical services were good, but through a series of inconceivable and unforeseeable events (what some might call coincidences, but what I would call miracles) my life was saved. I spent about two months in the hospital and I lived when I “should have” died.

Though I have struggled with a low self-esteem and dark moods all my life, for some reason I have always carried with me the belief that I would accomplish something great and noble with my life; that my life was saved for a reason.

I long to accomplish a great and noble task, but it is my chief duty to accomplish small tasks as if they were great and noble. – Helen Keller

I do not know if this great thing has been accomplished, but I don’t think so. And I continue with the daily tasks of loving and nurturing my children, creating beauty, and hopefully growing into the person that might one day accomplish these things.

2.The ocean renews me. But I don’t think I could ever live by the ocean or the magic might stop.

3.When I was young, I wanted to be a jungle pilot and an artist. And a writer. I kept journals from when I was very young, but in my late twenties in a rash act of extreme foolishness, trying to “start over” , I threw them all away. My heart still hurts when I think if it.

4.I have always wanted to have the super power of Invisibility.

5.I am very shy, but you will find me to be extremely friendly if you work hard enough to get past my “aloofness.” I also suffer from social anxiety but I manage it so that you would not know it if you met me.

6. I’d like to live somewhere warm and rural, somewhere in Europe or New Zealand or, I’m not picky, Montana. I love Montana.

7.I cannot cry, although as a child I cried uncontrollably with just a stern look from my father. But today he is gone and I cannot cry. It’s not that I don’t feel sorrow or extreme emotion, I do. But that mechanism of crying, cathartic as it may be, is broken.

8.I love books, which for some reason represent home, familiarity, love, knowledge, affection, history, and belonging. I could spend hours in a bookstore, used or new, but my preference being old, used and the best is in my possession.

9.I have a freakishly weird obsession with education, brilliance and general genius. I like smart people and I hate to be around stupid people. And I know that’s horrible, superficial, and mean, but it was the one thing my dad really, really admired in people. It was around 2nd/3rd grade that I decided I was stupid.

10.I have no, I mean no sense of direction.

11.I played the piano for nine years (age 6-15) and I should never have given it up. I love to sing, have done it all my life, and try to keep it in my life somehow. I love Opera and world music, other genres pale comparatively. Music gives me life. The Cowboy Junkies Trinity Sessions got me through three natural childbirths with no medication.

12.I like the idea of being a vegetarian; the idea of lowering my cholesterol and weight, but then I smell a New York Strip or a burger and I forget all that.

13.I love to sleep. For a melancholy type sleep is a relief.

14.My husband saved my life – emotionally he’s solid and so beautiful. And twice, he saved my life, literally.

15. I never enjoyed eating before I met my husband Tom. I never ate for pleasure. Although I am now 30 pounds heavier than when we met, I think learning to experience pleasure is worth it.

16.I like to say I’m a cynic and a skeptic, but honestly I am loyal to a fault though I don’t automatically trust anyone.

I just have one thing left to say if you’ve read this far, thank you. You should try writing this list, it’s hard but you will learn a few things about yourself as you see where your mind darts to in the process!!!

If you’re on flickr,: “Tag. You’re it.“

memory

Originally uploaded by M e l o d y

Memory   believes

before   knowing

remembers.

Believes longer

than   recollects,

longer   than   knowing

even   wonders.

He just received word that one of his songs—“Even So” from his 2nd CD Everything Takes Forever will be used on the CBS prime time show, Ghost Whisperer, tonight Friday (2/13/09, 8:00 PM ET; 7:00 PM CT) If you’d like, check it out.

Also, his website is:

www.myspace.com/tomhansonmusic in case you want to stop by to sample.

Peace to all, Melody

Ya'll, thanks for sharing.

Between stimulus and response, there is a space.

In that space lies our freedom and power to choose our response.

In our response lies our growth and our freedom.*

But it’s seriously more familiar to stick my head in the sand, as they say, and just ignore the scale, my energy level, my moods, my low esteem for myself, and the good people in my life that love me and accept me. Even as I write I can see how screwy it is. But, it is….what it is.

If I’ve learned anything about this alcohol addiction it is live for today. Today is the one I can do something about, not yesterday, and not tomorrow. Just this minute. Make it count.

Ya'll, thanks for sharing.

Ya'll, thanks for sharing.

This is worth re-posting (from April, 08 on my flickr account.)

Ya'll, thanks for sharing.

I am sitting here listening to the White House Press Secretary and I just want to scream. Of course I generally support our new President but give me a break. This isn’t accountability or new leadership. This isn’t reformation. This is same old government.

“Nobody’s perfect” is their response to Daschle not paying his taxes. I want to know what would happen to me if I don’t pay my taxes.

I just mailed in a check for more than $3,200 for HALF my property taxes. What would happen if I just “forgot” to pay, or if I made an “honest mistake?” If I said, well, “nobody’s perfect.” What would happen?

Ya'll, thanks for sharing.

There are many fine photographers in the world. But they are not all creative. They are technically good but lack imagination. I highlight the Danish photographer, Simon Høgsberg, because he came up with the idea to photograph pedestrians on a bridge in Berlin for 20 days.

The result is a “an incredible encounter a rich, vast humanity; highs and lows, love and rage, boredom and interest, the beautiful and the ugly, and all the realms inbetween where we average folk live life. It is well worth the few minutes it takes to take it in.

Ya'll, thanks for sharing.

Ya'll, thanks for sharing.

Motherhood is not simply a connection

from womb to life. It is that, and

a bond created by choice.

In the choosing, it is the care of another that ties you in a life giving way.

It cannot be fully understood, only carried out.

Many a day I am incomplete.

I question how I could be the one

doing the loving, the providing, the choosing of another.

Ah, then I realize, again and again,

motherhood isn’t perfection

nor accomplishment.

But it is in the choosing, daily.

Choosing to be the advocate, the provider, the buffer

between the world and this one child that I love.

As I sit on the floor with her.

As she sobs the sorrow of a thousand broken hearts.

As I think “who can I hurt” for causing this anguish?

As I consider the quiet relief that I want to confer,

likewise the pain I want to inflict on someone else;

As I think, I know the answer.

I am duty-bound to my child that I love

and to all children

to love. Destined to listen, to bring solace.

To uphold all in my path. And it is not glorious or praise-worthy.

It simply is a choice

of Motherhood.

Although it is not even possible to anticipate and prevent all pain

from this child, my child, any child;

I am beholden to all children,

to endure this quandary of motherhood.

Ya'll, thanks for sharing.

Ya'll, thanks for sharing.

Langston Hughes, wow, one of my favorite poets. Prophetic. Incredible. He spoke in ways no one else could. On this historic weekend, before Barack Obama will be sworn in, I am drawn back to where we came from lest we ever forget. We dare not forget!

Ya'll, thanks for sharing.

Ya'll, thanks for sharing.

Memory believes

before knowing

remembers.

Believes longer

than recollects,

longer than knowing

even wonders.

~ William Faulkner

Ya'll, thanks for sharing.

**But it is in the choosing, daily.**

**As I think “who can I hurt” for causing this anguish?**