An Old Business, A New Start

July 10th, 2014

Rem singleWhen I began this company almost 10 years ago, I wanted to name it reminisce. Unfortunately at the time, that business and domain name was already taken. I stewed over that until Ben came up with the name Reminesse, the essence of remembering. I liked it then and I still do. Thanks Ben!

Now, I am marketing it more heavily. When I talk to people about what I do I can often see the wheels begin to turn. They begin to think of moments in their lives that they wished they had documented. And I gently tell them it is not too late.

Some clients are older. They are the fun ones. They look at their photo albums and they start telling the stores of their life. Their eyes sparkle remembering. The moments come back and so do the feelings. It is a wonder to witness. Then when they watch the moments of their lives right before them on their own TV, they smile and often cry.

There are so many opportunities in documenting lives and stories. Sometimes, the story is happening right now. A birth, a birthday, a vacation, a family reunion, a graduation, a special trip, a wedding, an anniversary, and even funerals are all moments that can be documented.

So take a moment and take a picture.

Reminesse, a place that remembers.

Curiosity is Not Courage

October 9th, 2013

AnHutTrialI’ve been writing. And I’ve come to understand the importance of writing every day. You loose the flow of writing in the absence of the daily current.   I don’t know. Maybe that’s a good thing, but in re-reading it, the story feels choppy right now, kind of like learning how to drive a stick shift. You’ve got to get the feel of it and even then, sometimes you stall. I know eventually it’ll smooth out, but right now it feels choppy.

I have been re-writing a story that keeps haunting me. Sometimes I can’t stand the not knowing. I have to open the basement door and face the dark. I inch forward  grasping for the unseen string to pull the light on. Sometimes I find it and sometimes I bump into unknown things. Let’s not confuse curiosity with courage. They are definitely not the same thing.

It was necessary, this re-writing. I’m in search of a truth. And as I finished the second draft, I discovered that the question was completely different than what I once thought the question was. Perhaps what changed is me and that is now reflected in the story. Or maybe what has occurred in my life has opened up my mind to realize what the story really was about. Again, I don’t know. All I know is that it feels right. The question feels right.

What is the question? Hmmm. It is not a new question. It is about courage. Having the courage to do what your heart tells you to do or accept the fact that you won’t and live with it.  Either way is painful. Either way you have to let go of something that you are or thought you were. Either way you feel more alone.  The main character gave up her country, her extended family, her comforts and her security  to obtain the freedom to live as she wanted among others of like mind. It all seemed so liberating, but it soon became apparent that she was more imprisoned in her safe haven then she had ever been before. She tried to succumb. She really did. But she could not deny the lie of it all. She finally knew she couldn’t live with herself if she stayed. She walked away from what she thought she wanted, and found what she was really searching for.

It did not end well. But she ended well.

And as a result of her courage, we live in the land of the free and home of the brave. Ironic, isn’t it?

Pride and Prejudice

July 15th, 2013

Screen shot 2013-07-15 at 11.47.02 PMSaturday Ciera and I watched Pride and Prejudice for her birthday. Me and my girls kind of like that movie.

It went along with what I’ve been thinking a lot about lately. This thing called love. And I readily admit I am a little slow on the uptake so forgive me., but….

My thoughts begin with this body concept. How easily influenced I am (won’t throw everyone in my little sink hole).  But frankly my dear I have to justify to myself why it is ok to let go of what I once looked like and acknowledge I will never look like again. Of course maybe I never looked all that good to begin with! Anyhow…

An old friend told his wife to stop obsessing about what she looked like. “You should just enjoy who you are because you will never look this good again.” He was wrong. She did look “good” again and still does! (Reverse psychology?  I don’t think he’s that smart.)

I digress.

I believe that this body is just a shell to protect something more fragile than my inner organs.  I’m not talking spiritual…ok, maybe I am.

I believe my body houses and protects a most extraordinary essence, a soul, my soul.  But the older I get the more I believe that it is protecting it from something much more than physical harm. It is shielding it from emotional and spiritual trauma. Perhaps some are able to be vulnerable and trust that love can and will embrace the intangible asset, your soul, but I know I don’t.

So when I watch pride and prejudice and I witness a love that, at least to me, is the epitome of the sharing of souls, my heart breaks just a little. My body has become a prison. It has a life sentence of solitary confinement. And I concede that I am the guard, with the key, hidden away where I can’t even find it.

I don’t know why I am that way.  I have trust issues. And with societies obsession and distraction on body image, I think everyone does.

Vulnerability is the most precious gift. The body melts away not with a touch of a hand, but with the acceptance of another’s heart. A soul exposed, in the light of love, recognizes perfection in oneself.

Health Care Reform

May 17th, 2013

I do not even try to pretend to understand the political issues being bantered back and forth between parties, families and friends.  Everyone is so heated and convinced that the “other side” means harm to our freedoms and country. With all the noise and rhetoric, I feel I am not getting an objective point of view. So I try to expose myself to both sides and hopefully I can get a sense of what is real.
Next week the firm is sponsoring an event that will try to explain the consequences of the reform to small and medium sized business owners. It should be interesting. One of the perks of the job. Getting an education.

Health Care Reform Seminar

I’m Sorry…

April 11th, 2013

head hitI realize I’m a little slow on the uptake. I actually believe what everyone says to me. It is later, as I begin to dissect the conversation that I realize something does not ring true.  Or sometimes you have to hit me over the head.

Take for instance, apologies.  It took me years to realize that the rare apologies I occasionally received were not apologies at all. And it wasn’t that I figured that out all by myself.

There are times in life, no matter who you are; that people will say or do something that is wrong, hurtful, selfish, or mean.

Please don’t Eleanor Roosevelt me.  I am not as tough as she and never will be. I do not give anyone permission to hurt my feelings, but occasionally it occurs. Some choose to attribute my hurt feelings to hormones, chocolate or the weather. I blame it on people being thoughtless and cruel. It happens. And as a result, being human, it affects me.  That is what is true for me.

And to be clear, I am not innocent in the hurting of feelings department.  I have had to extend my apology to those I wronged. It was difficult. I felt humiliated, but at the end of it all, the relationship was stronger and ironically so was I.

But the hitting me over the head occurred one night in the distant past. After explaining my hurt feelings to an offender I said, “Don’t you think you should say you are sorry?” The offender laughed. I was told quiet clearly that I had never received an apology and frankly never would. I begged to differ. I pointed out the few times I received one and quoted the dialogue back to refresh memories.

This was answered again with laughter.

“What I said was, ‘I’m sorry you feel bad about what I said or did. ”

I sat there stunned. Then I laughed. I mean really, how very clever. Carefully chosen words that never did and never would admit fault, sorrow or contrition.

The consequences fell back on me.

I guess it could be worse.  I mean to never receive any sort of apology at all might be worse.  And I can tell you from personal experience I think it feels worse.  It kind of makes me feel discounted and just not worth the effort or maybe the relationship is not worth the effort.  Where’s Eleanor when you need her?

For those of you who choose to get defensive or angry or choose to take this all personally…

I am sorry you feel bad about what I wrote.

See, I can be clever too.

Driving Miss Crazy

January 17th, 2013

keysI am teaching my daughter to drive.  She has not been in a hurry, but last month I heard about a really disturbing incident.

I heard about a young girl who went to work. Her boss left an important work element (the life giving clipboard) at a local large warehouse store we shall call the big S. The employer was frantic because she did not have time to get this most important lifeblood of her business. So quite naturally she asked her young employee if she drove. The reported response was, “not legally.”

The employer handed this unlicensed, unpermitted, employee the keys.

“But, I don’t have my license or permit.”

“I don’t care. Go get the clipboard. We need it and I don’t have time!”

So the employee, with all her knowledge, experience and confidence gained from driving around the church parking lot one whole time time for 15 minutes, jumped into the big ton truck and proceeded to drive the 2.25 miles to the Big S.

Of course she arrived without incident. After all, teen-agers are invincible.

But now she was faced with a terrifying situation.  She did not know what to do. I mean who would? Probably the excitement of being on “the road again,” or for the first time did not leave much thought to all the ramifications of this assignment.  Driving to the warehouse was no problem, but without, you know, actual driving experiences plus the added responsibility of getting that clipboard, she never even considered the entire picture which included … parking.


Driving through “the back roads” through stoplights and stop signs without a permit or license or experience did not cause her any anxiety, fear or trepidation, but parking?  What’s a girl to do? She knew she was in some serious trouble.

cautionFrantically she circled the parking lot. She tried to park it but the “stupid” truck was just too big! Good thing she has such good common sense! After thinking it through she recognized her limitations and her options.

She made a plan. She began the execution of the plan. She drove to the front entrance of the warehouse, leaped out, entered the store, requested the clipboard and returned successful to the truck waiting idly by.  Brilliant! Wasn’t she smart!

She drove happily back to work proud of her accomplishment and her quick thinking to solve such a terrifying and insurmountable problem.

So,  after hearing this story, I slowly sank to the floor and requested that she do the same. I calmly explained to my daughter how utterly stupid and irresponsible this girl was for risking her life, the life of others, for breaking the law, for jeopardizing  so very much for a, a, …. clipboard! I made her promise that she would never be so irresponsible. And that if someone asked her to do something illegal she needed to have the strength of character to say no!

I decided right then and there that was not going to happen to my daughter.  To prevent such immature and irresponsible and flagrant acts against the law, reason and good sense I insisted she get her permit the very next Monday.

Surprisingly she drives really well.. except for parking.

Want to Get There

January 12th, 2013

On one of my computer screens I have a picture of a road that disappears into tuly fog.

It reminds me of traveling to the mountains. Sometimes, not very often, we became shrouded in tuly fog.  It was thick and clearly dangerous for travelers. My father would slow down and dim the headlights that reflected back at us. Sometimes I thought we should turn off our lights and let the self-illuminated fog light our way. I was taught that we needed to be concerned with what we were going toward, but also what lay behind us as well. The rear red lights would tell others, “we are here.”

Traveling cautiously forward, we became quiet, the radio was turned off, our eyes widened and our ears listened as we concentrated and stared into…nothing.

It was a relief when the fog began to dissipate into wisps and eventually we could see our way again.

January feels like that to me sometimes. The year lays ahead and I anticipate it optimistically. I have a map, a plan, but sometimes…life happens.

No matter how I chart the future and envision the road and gaze into the distance, I cannot know what lies ahead. I nervously glance behind to see if I am alone or is someone careening toward me reminding me of where I’ve been.

I could pull over and watch others and sometimes I do. I acknowledge that I learn a ton watching how others do things. Eventually though I need to be brave and get back on the road. I am not satisfied being a spectator. The purpose of observing was to learn so I could do.  Staying too long risks dependency on what others know and eventually depreciates me.

I could follow someone else closely or travel together and I have. Safety in numbers you know, but eventually they turn or stop or lag.  I have enjoyed the companionship, but eventually I feel angry, frustrated and less than. I get lost.

Tuly Fog ClearingThe fog will clear.  I will see where I need to go and I will see where I have been. A moment of reprieve and of relief. I feel safe to move ahead. The feeling is…light, a little unfamiliar and maybe even awkward, but the way is there, present and possible.

January. Resolutions. Hopes. Dreams. Expectations.

The fog will embrace me again. It always does.

I know it’s about the journey. I know I will doubt my decisions. I will doubt my intentions. I will doubt my abilities, but it won’t matter.  I’ll get as far as I can today one step at a time because…

I really want to get there, wherever my there is.




The List

January 3rd, 2013

Sometimes I feel the only thing coming out of my mouth are all the negative thoughts  tumbling in my head.

I have to admit those thoughts roll and merge until I don’t even notice the blue of the sky or my eyes that are still able to see it, if I but looked.

I have to consciously list 5 things everyday I am grateful for. Five events that I appreciate.

Some days five is a lot.

  1. Food
  2. Clothes
  3. Home
  4. Employment
  5. Family

Rather vague. There is no intimacy with my life in that list.

  1. The late night run with Ciera to Cheese cake factory to share a Godiva
  2. My after work comfy’s that Wistie shared with me from the Gap.
  3. My patio where I can sit, lay and ponder next to a warm fire.
  4. An assignment that is so incredibly challenging, but feeling a sense of pride and ownership in the effort.
  5. Planning a fondue night with my kids at the end of the month. YUM!

That wasn’t easy, but I felt a spark of joy.

Another day. I can do this.

The End of the Day

December 29th, 2012


Broken Wish Bone

December 28th, 2012

wishbone_snap_animatedAnother year.
Did you think gone or is here?
I found the wishbone from Thanksgiving in my Christmas put away moment. I held both ends. That way I would win my wish no matter what.
I thought of what to wish for.
Tears came.
I had nothing and not because I believe I have all I need or want.
That was the saddest realization of all.
Today it was a ‘what would be the point’ kind of day.
Another year.
Oh boy.







Related Posts with Thumbnails