There is a song in the play, “Annie”, which says: “You’re not fully dressed without a smile.” To my surprise my lack of smiling had reduced me to someone who had been separated from my creative talents. I had fallen captive, straight into the abyss of the daily battle and although it is important, I wallowed in something I have no love for and that is politics. The hostile political environment of the past three years, has left me bereft of the smiles I was accustomed to wearing. I had allowed myself to be swept off my feet by the impossible. The most ridiculous reality show of them all. I had gotten distracted from growing. I have not been fully dressed, so intense had I been directing my attention on a vile and loathsome situation.
It’s Sunday afternoon, morning to me and I fill my head with jazz from musical aficionados from the past and present. The coffee in my cup is practically finished, and for the first time in over two years, I feel once again in-tune with my iMac keyboard. I adore singing and only wish I had been disciplined to learn to play the piano. Oh, I diddled with the ivory keys here and there, but I was not destined to present the musical melodies, just interpret the lyrics. I do have a way of putting thing off but instead of saying I am wasting precious time, I look on this as biding my time. Timing is everything.
So, I found myself sitting here and the only thing missing was that infectious smile. As the corners of my mouth drew themselves upward, I felt my heart lighten and my eyes … beacons of light. I connected with pure source energy and I’m staying plugged in. A smile changes everything.
© 2019 Theresa H Hall
I am dedicating my 1,000th post to our Forty-Fourth President, Barack Obama.
You will be remembered with great love, appreciation and affection. You and Michelle have served our great nation with determination, strength, honesty, intelligence, and with caring and loving hearts. Lately, I, as millions of Americans, have poured over video footage and photos of you and your family. We have witnessed with our eyes and hearts your goodness, your sense of humor and your integrity. You have been the greatest leader I have known, and We The People thank you most sincerely.
You will be remembered and your legacy will live on. In time the history books will concur with what I have said. To watch the way babies and kids and everyday citizens respond to your enchanting smile is lovely. Children can always sense when someone is good.
I wouldn’t have missed these last eight years for all the gold in the world. You are a national treasure and will be sorely missed. It is with great hope we will see much of you in future. You deserve to reconnect with your family and friends. And so it goes. Good-bye for now and I shall say once more with pride, thank you Mr. President.
Copyright © 2017 “Sleeping Kitten – Dancing Dog!” All rights reserved.
A Wayward Dream
Tonight I revisited the songs
We used to dance to
I thought about
The way our bodies
Touched and swayed
To the music
And for a few moments
We were suspended
A time when we
Were in tune
With one another
About seven years
Packed with laughter
tears tender memories
Some were bad
But mostly good
Deep and true
A wayward dream
of eternal love
trapped between the past
And between the now
A love paralleled
Alive with contradiction
For my heart to
A wayward dream
Written by: Theresa H Hall
December 29, 2016 @ 5:00 AM
Copyright © 2016 “Sleeping Kitten – Dancing Dog!” All rights reserved.
For my left ear Soundscapes, for my right Miles Davis. The small computer fan on my desktop whirls air to cool my iMac, and the floor fan spins out the re-streamed air from the ORECK air-purifier. Every so often Hannah, who is one of my four cats, softly snores and Lillian, her small frame emits soft puffs of slumber. Cosmos paces to-and-fro, waiting for me to carve more turkey. While Regis, is curled into a ball of fluffy black and white, on the console table by the window. I am attuned to every nuance of released sound. It is peaceful. My half-eaten salad lies silently waiting in a bowl colored in turquoise, with patterns of white circling the rim and snowflakes in the well. I think of the bottle of wine waiting to be un-corked as I curl my toes under, to feel the softness of the carpet. Joe is on his way to his office and the skies outside are a light but soft gray. Clouds are blanketed between the earth and the sun.
Listening to both movements of music I am calmed and attuned by the inspiration of the composers. Messages from the hearts of musicians. I decipher their moods and dreams and yearnings, together with the intended energy to echo around the chambers of my brain. I acknowledge a knocking on the doors to the chambers within, and they continue their inquiries, until a door opens wide, to either create new thoughts or to re-play old memories. Music is magical.
During a movie or symphony, music interprets the mood of the scene asking us to follow along on flourishing emotion, or to imagine an experience. These melodies are movements of vibration and each of us tolerate them according to our current vibrational experience. They either carry us along making us yearn for more, or they may call forth the opposing desire. When we are not the vibrational match, these tunes, no matter how thrilling or moving, can make us feel annoyed and we rush to shut them out, or switch them off. Many times changing the channel makes a world of difference. Some days I find I have to search until our vibrational match is found.
The theory of musical conversation is simply an acceptance. Chords and notes strung together create a message of hope or despair, longing, or the freedom from a circumstance. Our heart-strings either absorb or reject but there is always a reaction, whether it is acceptance, reluctance, exuberance, passivity or indifference.
Our Creator, the Universe, God, knew we needed this important dialogue. Birdsong, the wind, storms, the ocean, insects, all living creatures … they provide for us comfort and background for us to enjoy their presence on this planet. We might gaze to the heavens above but in outer space there is no sound. I suppose the earth’s atmosphere acts like an echo chamber. Our communication relies totally on our vibrational response to the musical conversation in play. A drumbeat is another type of music as they offer a primitive power of a different vibrational pull.
I just heard a distant boom like a discharged shotgun. Although it is now hunting season thankfully, we live in a protected area, a wildlife sanctuary. I disturbed Regis to look outside to share four deer standing on the rise, about 300 feet from our home. I roused him to look, but in his confused and sleepy state he didn’t understand, jumped down and walked away. I waved to them and they stared back. Once Joe looked outside our bedroom window to see a magnificent buck standing two feet away. He may have been visiting Regis, who looks outside a lot of times. Joe said he was quiet and could see the buck standing at attention as if sensing being watched. My husband got the gift of experiencing the thrill of being so close to this beautiful creature that he didn’t want to move. For a long five minutes, they acknowledged one another in silence before the buck sauntered off into the night.
Musical conversation while varied are most appreciated when we truly listen, and are in accord to hear the messages intended by the composer.
You’d think it’s a private matter, not something one debates or discusses. Understanding the fundamentals of achieving happiness or joy is paramount unless you enjoy spinning your wheels. No one else can ever be responsible for our joy. I am speaking of the inner glow. This is where we come in. We must take responsibility for our feelings, whereby we practice and train ourselves to think the right thoughts. Most things around us or surrounding us are little exercises in life we must sift through, in order to figure out what it is that we do want. It changes moment by moment, thought by thought.
It was explained to me that we cannot be against anything. I wondered how this could be the truth. The Universe is based on quantum physics. It includes the much preached about Laws Of Attraction. It is relevant. What we send out, like a boomerang, we draw back to ourselves. Especially those self-righteous beams of thoughts. Not be against violence? Exactly. For when you are against a thing it provides instantaneous momentum. We need rather to be for self-improvement, the clean environment, people’s rights, spreading goodness, etc. What we focus on makes it more powerful.
Taking my own advice, I have decided to focus on the kind of world I want, which equates to my curtailing my reading and listening to the horror show that has been unfolding right before our very eyes. Like a snowball rolling downhill, it is compounding and we can no longer afford to continue allowing the negatives to grow bigger. It is a distraction and we need to collectively stop giving these persons, our energy and attention. We need to do the exact opposite. Promote all good things. Only the good stuff. No matter how so and so, has been spewing on and on, or what the news channels are hi-lighting, because it has brought our nation to its knees. It is time to wake up and smell the roses. In the meantime, pick some flowers, send out good vibrations and let’s focus our attention on them in order to see how quickly things improve.
The first matter is to understand that only we can make ourselves happy. No one else has the power to do this, so we may now all stop depending upon others because they only turn into the excuse when we are miserable. We can take the pressure off of them. We need to accept our energy and our connection to The Source, in order to move things along. I like that I am in control. I won’t give away my power ever again. I Am demanding my own happiness from myself. Being the responsible party … it’s so much easier.
I feel my parental chest swell whenever I notice new blooms
Taking pride in proving to the world … I have not killed this plant
Although I know I only play a small part in this arrangement
The joy I experience knowing that my flora skills are developing
Exceeds the simple truth that
I’m just the caretaker
I water … I prune … I set the pots in sunlight
I speak to … dance with … and sing to them
I’m just the caretaker
But I feel like the mother
Well … my African Violet is getting ready to have babies, lots of purple ones. This is the first time I have ever been successful with nursing along my plant, and its bearing the fruits of my love. I am thrilled! I know Mama, my Grandmother, is looking down from above and smiling. She had such a green thumb. Her violets would bloom year round. So pleased!
And speaking of green, Happy Saint Patrick’s Day.
I can see it, hear it, feel and smell it as well. Spring is in the air. Here in Washington, D.C., our cherry trees are stretching their branches, lifting their buds up to the sky. The warmth of the sun’s rays stirs all those glorious, pent-up emotions inside the tree. I expect the life-energy to be teeming with a flurry of action and buzzing with accelerated vibrations. Each limb has its job to perform so the tiny blossoms will burst open against the blue skies … and when they do, it’s almost as if it happens overnight. The waterways and parks become magical.
Along the Tidal Basin, cherry trees line the curved waterways, gracing the entire area and pathways. The blooms are almost ready to puff open thus releasing their fragrant perfume. It is a wondrous sight once the stage is set for throngs of people to visit our Nation’s Capital. Truly, it is one of the most popular times to come to Washington, D.C. Some of the trees on either side of the paths are so mature they touch each other, creating a romantic archway or tunnel of blossoms overhead.
Springtime also inspires us to deep clean our homes. What a good feeling it is to throw open the windows, clean between the nooks-and-crannies, sort through clothes and delegate whatever is no longer necessary or desired, into bags destined for donation or the annual yard sale. “Out with the old … In with the new”, was what Mother used to say. So freshen your homes and expect good things to come. Spring is just a week away. High time to welcome a fresh start … a new beginning.
Here is a link for 2016 Cherry Blossoms Update. And another: D.C. Cherry Blossom Guide.
Woke up today with my mind
Brimming over with ideas
Watched a Picasso video
Thanks to Julian
A friend really
He shares with us
Historical stories and facts
To keep us coming back
So back to my story
About how I have
Stayed in the background
Until now for such a
It’s just my artist’s inclination
Lying quietly while my brain
Produces dreams and such
Feeling terrific vibratory joy
It’s my artistic inclination
Painting in my head
Scripting words for the living
My artistic inclination
Singing favorite tunes
Visiting musical days past
And yearning for what is
Theresa H Hall
February 9, 2016 @3:33 PM
Wow … this sure looks exciting! One of the first things I shall do after I win Publisher’s Clearing House Sweepstakes, is to learn how to sky dive. This suit is closest to those bat suits they use when gliding off the sides of mountains. I feel this would be a great and much safer way to achieve freedom when flying. I can imagine the dizzying trills fizzing around inside my brain and getting to see the world from as birds do. Most likely I would want a small oxygen tank with a tube for my nose, so I wouldn’t pass out. Doesn’t this look wonderful? Would you ever do this?
I have dreams, but only occasionally, where I am actually flying. No apparatus. No strings attached. Just I floating, stopping mid-flight and taking a look around, then rolling over and lounging on thin air. That is why they are called dreams. Sky diving seems the next best thing.
The PCH rules state that only 1 in 1.7 billion entrants is chosen to be a win. Sounds like it could happen to me as well as anyone else.
It happened in the afternoon on Halloween but I didn’t feel or notice a thing different. Did you feel anything? Hope you all enjoyed your Halloween.
As we center and surround ourselves with the inner-peace we are working toward, we can concentrate on the oneness of us all. We become secure in how we feel about ourselves. Negative words or thoughts from others carry no weight. As we tune into speaking our gratitude for things we have and those things we want, we are then able to enjoy life anew. We can draw power from those things which we have not noticed or paid attention to for a while.
Everywhere we look there is infinite intelligence and perfection. There is abundance all around and through us. We carry the Spirit of Our Creator, Our Universe within us. We create with our thoughts and words … good or bad. We must consider improving situations, relationships, our communities and in taking interest in our world. By listening to others … hearing with loving hearts … and speaking only good words today.
“We are not our bodies, our possessions or our careers. Who we are is Divine Love and that is INFINITE”.
Dr. Wayne W. Dyer
Photo: Earth at Night by NASA
Does what I wrote in the past still count? Or once written and read through, could it lose some of its impact? These are my thoughts as I wake up over my coffee. “I’ve Got You Under My Skin”, is playing repeatedly in my head, even now. I dreamt about Frank Sinatra, and each time I changed positions in bed, he was singing another one of his hits. Old Blue Eyes himself.
Last night I watched the recording I’d made of HBO’s two-part documentary about Frank Sinatra, “All Or Nothing At All”. I stayed up until 5:30 a.m. as I couldn’t resist watching the entire production. It was four hours well spent. The footage and video coverage brought home the enormity of the vision he’d dreamed about from the time he was a teenager. One that would touch us all. His strong work ethic, dogged determination and hard work, sometimes to the point of exhaustion, was the price he gladly paid in order to reach the stars, becoming a living legend of the twentieth century. When my attention has been captured, I morph into a human sponge to absorb all the details.
Beginning with his difficult entry into this world, baby Frank (weighing over twelve pounds!), nearly didn’t make it. He suffered a broken ear drum and the doctor who was called in to help, most likely used high forceps to pull him from his mother’s womb. He was left with a few scars but his grandmother was a hero for splashing him with cold water, then patting and massaging him to encourage him to survive. We’re so glad she did!
For the music lovers out in the world, Frank Sinatra’s hand in his song arrangements, the motion picture industry, and his inclusiveness of all people, regardless of their ethnic background, when it wasn’t the popular thing to do, is a story you won’t want to pass up. I know I’ll watch it again for the history I wasn’t taught in school, but mostly to review and watch his story unfold. It is personal and thrilling as well. I don’t want give away more than his precious beginnings in life. See for yourself this man who impressed and influenced the world, long before Elvis, or The Beatles did. His impact was huge and is long-lasting. You’ll be amazed at how he gets under your skin.
A Casual Affair
When we first met I didn’t understand
The skip of my heartbeat
When you took my hand
Ain’t it grand
Two people meeting
Again and again
Lovers in bliss … a gift
Isn’t this what I’d wished
It was remiss of me to expect
Through the rains of spring
Into the heat of summer
We’d meet and exchange plans
For a future you knew
Would never be
Unexpectedly I realized
I had fallen in love
And when you saw it In my eyes
You pretended not to see
You turned and walked away
A casual affair is only good
Until it gets serious
I cry into my pillow from loneliness
For a lover who doesn’t want ties
There’s no compromise
You’ve said your good-byes
I cannot ask you to love me again
You said we’ll remain friends
You’re over me
But I am left holding on
I wonder if you ever think of me
From time to time
I can’t get you off my mind
Replaying each moment we lay entwined
Between sheets and thorns
Where my heart was laid bare
You really don’t care
You said we’re still friends
It was remiss of me to expect
You told me you’d see me around
I can’t ask you to love me again
We’re no longer lovers
Written by: Theresa H Hall
March 31, 2015 @ 4:29 PM
I just looked up and saw it was after midnight and I’d gone from yesterday to now. Where did Monday go? I usually take off on Mondays … allow myself to cool out and concentrate on relaxing my mind, my body, my spirit. I like to let my mind go blank and absorb what is going on in the vibrations of teeming life surrounding me, my home; the new life buzzing by my windows. I really meant to do this and lounge around without concern for wifely duties. Even the cats slept most of the day away. I had good intentions, but it fell by the sidelines when I sat down to enter Facebook land.
It’s nice to see my friends and what they get up to, hear about performances of musically passionate peers and catch some social news. I must admit to becoming engrossed and roped in. I visited but then felt compelled to write, make comments and voice my point of view about animals, videos, horrible and tragic news, some kindnesses of caring people, and that an elderly woman in a nursing home can keep her elderly cat with her. I was so upset the other day when I read about this happening, that she and her beloved cat would be separated. Apparently enough of us disagreed and it made a difference.
I didn’t get my day off. I got involved and I was emotionally wrung out … like a dish rag. For those of you who never used one, it’s the old-fashioned way to scrub your dishes. An old saying. I bet the people behind the scenes at Facebook land, have determined, sifted, what posts will show up on my feeds. I have been targeted with so much controversy lately, that I am forced to write something helpful, encouraging or speak out over social injustices.
Time to figure out how to get back to a more simplistic feed, shut out the things that disturb me. There’s too much sadness going on and it is dragging me down. Just wanted to say that I finally got it. I’ll have to visit Facebook land sparingly, unless my feeds improve to a gentler atmosphere. Otherwise I’ll go screaming into the night. That’s another old-fashioned saying. IGSITN is the new way to write it, so it sounds/looks current. I’m hip to a lot of the newfangled abbreviations. Wishing you a better world than the one happening right now. I’m returning to the place I refer to as Teesa’s World. Time to sit in my hanging chair.
On Sunday, I will celebrate my eighth year of blogging. Over the past two years I have been keeping more to myself. I suppose as the old saying goes, every seven years our tastes change and sometimes our direction. I’d felt overwhelmed by outside challenges and my focus on blogging became distracted. Through the years I have kept to myself, even when I was an on-stage performer for two decades. One might believe being “out there’, was not only very public … but it seemed to negate my privacy issue. I must insist that other than having some very close friends and acquaintances, I am still a private homebody. I do venture out occasionally, and feel that now we are settled in our condo, that I shall be doing a lot more exploring as soon as the weather turns warmer. There’s lots of territory to discover with my camera and I’ve decided that I will dine with people I am interested in with the intention of conducting personal interviews. Peeling back the persona to see the inner-workings of another is a delicate process.
Our world is complex, mainly because humans grow bored quickly then turn their attention to the next popular thing. I find it amusing to have so many directions from which to choose how I will fill my days. I’m shifting my computer in order to stand up for the most part. The downside result of sitting down for hours at a time, has made me discover a lack in stamina. My Tony Gazelle is to my left and lately I have been putting him to good use. Moving is key and whilst I will continue to write, I will also begin to adventure out to meet new people and visit new places. My city is full of historical memorials, artists, restaurants and an old theatre, plus I’ll be tapping into the music venues, too.
Friday is the best day to me as it heralds in the weekend. Have a blooming Cherry Blossom Weekend to all who are in the Washington, D.C. area, and a lovely weekend to everyone else.
We were in the mood for pasta tonight.
It was delicious.
Joe and I are still battling the winter season cold. We are into our third week of this mess!