Posts Tagged ‘healing’


As I turned off the highway and anticipated arriving home to my little abode, the main thing on my mind was gratitude that it would be warm inside. I was chilled to the bone, and I know that people all over the world exist in that miserable state–chilled. How lucky I am to have a warm place to come home to on a rainy day. Being warm is so soothing, so comforting, so healing. 

I flashed back to my morning shower, and how I had turned away from the showerhead and reveled in the feel of warm water on my back and shoulders. What a blessing, to go from a warm bed to a warm bathroom and into a warm shower. 

Being warm or just being in contact with a warm object  is among the greatest feelings on Earth. A blanket that’s been warmed and placed over you  is the only redeeming feature about being in a hospital. You fall in love with the sensitive nurse who provides this simple comfort.

In the same category fall: heating pads, hot water bottles, hot tubs and mineral springs all intended to heal our aches and pains and improve our dispositions. A massage is all about warm hands awakening dormant cells and restoring life all over the body.

I guess if I had to pick a word that comes the closest to paying forward  love, it would be the word warm. So for this whole holiday season coming up I wish you warm!


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Being a Realtor, I worked yesterday.  Not the first time I’ve spent the Fourth of July and countless other holidays at my office.  But, I figure you can’t serve your clients roasting hot dogs. 

It had been a beautiful day; perfect even.  My drive home offers an opportunity to drive right down to the water to watch the waves and all the living things who get to spend their lives there.  I find that just breathing in the salty air and having both negative ions and positive ions coming at you at the same time can be very healing, exhilirating even.

I have never seen so many people down there before.  I got parking space # one, of course, like I always do, clear on three sides.  Directly in front of me was a toddler rehearsing to be an American, maybe even an American hero.  He was demonstrating those qualities that make for success and give us our reputation as Americans.

He was at the highest point of a mound of sand and had a little yellow cart to play with.  I’ve never seen one just like it.  It was small, had four matching wheels, was no more than 14 inches wide and half again that long.  It had a low back and two sides but the front had been dropped down making it like a tiny dump truck. 

This little guy could not have more than 17 or 18 months old, tiny little thing still unsure of his footing when he walked.  When he backed up to the cart, it only came to his knees.  He was oblivious to anything else going on around him.  His mission was to climb up into that cart, butt first.  Oh, yes, he could.  He would get into that cart no matter what it took and no matter how  long it took.  There is no such word as ‘can’t’, just watch me. Nothing was going to stop him.  

He would try and fail, over and over and over again.  He would put a handfull of sand into the cart (I don’t know what that was about) and try again.  Finally, ‘daddy’ took notice, came over, picked the little kid up, put him into the cart facing the front and went back to ‘mommy’.  

Seconds later, this determined kid crawled out of the cart and started trying to get himself back in all over again.  He didn’t want to BE in the cart.  He wanted to GET in the cart.  How American.

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