I am experiencing one of those days where it pays great benefits to being an optimist. My job is technically Southeast Regional, yet I am in Ohio in a corn field, beside a bridge that's out for construction on a Saturday, with no load, no empty trailer, and no work. The food offering is a stale vending machine and the restroom is a port-o-john. If truth were known, I would MUCH rather be getting sun in my hair at the SoFL beaches, settling in for a great night of local talent performing music as eclectic as I am, and thinking "what to wear to church in the morning?".
Instead, I have been sent on a wild goose chase in a 100 miles radius looking for an empty trailer. If a place has them? They won't surrender it. If I am sent to pick up a load? I needed to bring an empty. At one guard shack I asked the elderly guard if he wanted to call his supervisor before I call my company to get an override?
Ever notice? It is all in how you ask the question. If you say (even on the phone), "You don't want me to give out an empty trailer, do you? " the response will be "no, I do not."
I wonder what would happen if the guard began the call, "Hey, I have a driver down here, sent by her company, we have a few extras, do you mind if I assign her one?"
He thanked me when I walked away empty-handed for not being nasty to him, like other driver before me have been. What a funny thing to thank me for. My reply, "Life is too short, This won't matter in 5 minutes, so why stress on the petty stuff? We are both just doing our jobs."
This left me bobtail, to drive another 60 miles to the next place there "might be" a trailer. Can you picture the scene? I am driving a 17 feet, 10 wheel tractor instead of a 70 ft, 18 wheeled monster. It is akin to a mudslinging 4x4 truck!
I was free to be fully present on my meandering path through some of the very most exquisite true Americanna Ohio farmlands on a Saturday in July that one could imagine! Red checkered picnic tables, fishing poles, hounds in pickups with antique plates, cornfields that if you are in a dip, they appear higher than the 2 story farm house.... the barn three times the size of the house. Winding trains rumble adjacent to farmlands crisscrossed by combines and hay bales. I smile with appreciation at the motorcyclists I pass along the way.
It's not that I don't care. It's that I am not in control of my day. And what a relief! I am going where I am sent, and open to whatever the response is of the person in charge. Here I am, Lord, what do you have for me today?
I have chosen to turn on a minimum of radio. I got my ritual phone calls out of the way early. I am soaking in every single second, literally every clean, open air breath with gratitude, love, and enjoyment of being alive and able to travel for a living. What a gift!
One other thought for today? July 30th would have been my 26th wedding anniversary. Instead, it is the 11th anniversary of my divorce. I am actually grateful for both occurences and feel pleasure and the blessings from each of them. Today is simply a current day in a very full and rewarding life.
When I am asked loaded or empty? I realise they mean my trailer. Does it have a payload of cargo, or am I getting one put on?
When I ask myself "loaded or empty?". The answer is a resounding LOADED to the rim with BLESSINGS and gratitude!
Enjoying central USA,
Jan M. Olsen
~J~
Essence
I shall be at peace when the lion within can lie down with the lamb.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Crawl Before You Run
This past weekend God blessed me in an abundance. At 11:26am, July 7, 2011 my youngest daughter, Alisha, gave birth to my second grandson, Terran Johnson. They live in Pueblo, Colorado some 2,000 miles from where I park my car in South Florida.
From Alisha's high school graduation until some point of 2010 we were estranged. There were years I did not know where she lived, how she was doing, or any communications at all. In travelling with my job, I literally drove through her town and did not have an inkling we were within the same state.
2010 marked the beginnings of a season I named Reunion, Reconcilliation, Reconnection. In October 2010, I was invited to fly to Colorado to meet my first grandson, Jeremiah. He was already 7 months old at that time, and my daughter was 21 years old.
It has been said, do not judge another until you walk a mile in their shoes. I choose not to judge at all. I do not judge my daughter or her family. I am learning to judge myself less. I am blessed to be aware, to make choices, and to align myself with precious men and women of a like faith. I have assembled a list of warriors who do not judge me, rather they encourage, nurture, love and inspire me. Humbling progress in all aspects of my Journey, I am buzzing with enthusiasm with every beep of my heart.
Also, I come from a very fervent belief in God and his attributes. It has only been in the past year, though, that I allowed the truths to extend to myself and radiate outward to others. Things like love, gratitude, forgiveness. I knew the words. I practiced them in a limited, case by case way. I did not fully appreciate the literal meaning, nor did I live it in thought, word, or deed. A lot of time has gone by, walking in a fog of pain and missed moments. That time will not return to me, no matter how I dwell on it. Today, however, is here and I embrace it. Fully exploring and employing love, gratitude, and forgiveness, I choose to go ahead into the future with new optimism and creative purpose.
This recent trip to see my family in Colorado was amazing. New births and new beginnings to be celebrated. Connecting dots with all my senses. Exchanging hugs, sharing meals, heartwarming talks from deep within us, my daughter and I bonded again.
Wonderous gifts to be given, I was allowed the privilege of dressing newborn infant Terran and wrapping him in a swaddling blanket, I placed him in his mother's arms to be nursed before going home, I was able to breathe his sweetness in during his FIRST 24 HOURS on this earth. I accompanied them in the elevator as they left the hospital and helped adjust the buckles securing his carseat for their ride home to his daddy and brother. Tender moments that only come once in a lifetime.
Playing with 16 month old Jeremiah and enjoying his childhood developments made this NanaJ very happy and warm inside. I think of it as going to the fuel pumps and turning the pump to *on*, setting the nozzle to run full speed, and leaving it in the tank until it clicks when capacity has been reached. My "love tank" has received an infilling, for that I am so grateful.
Yet, I saw the new baby an estimated 4 hours, and Jeremiah perhaps 3 hours in a time period of 48 hours. There is still progress to be made in reconcilliation with Alisha's husband. The relationship with my daughter improves with every text, phone call, email, or visit, but it is a process that is unfolding over time and careful nurturing on all parts.
I have people in my corner that are offended by how little I was able to see my family. When you look at numbers? In black and white, the money and time resources spent to travel and visit do not have a reasonable return in the opposite column on the chart.
What is important to note? I AM BLESSED! I AM GRATEFUL. I SEE PROGRESS. I EXCHANGE LOVE, GRATITUDE, AND FORGIVENESS IN A FLOW IN AND OUT OF ME.
So while I did not stay in their home, or spend full days inside of their world? While we met at hospitals, motels and resteraunts and had to go out to shop or hang out? I very much consider this trip a resounding success! We made inroads into reconcilliation. Alisha and I discussed potential offers for how her husband Tony and I might connect in the future.
I am asking my friends to not see this as time or money wasted. Do not be indignant on my behalf. Celebrate progress with me. Moments seized and enjoyed to their fullest, just as they presented themselves.
Jeremiah had to learn something important. Terran will follow in his time. God will facilitate the future. The lesson to be gleaned here? Is to crawl before walking. Walk before running.
From zero communication with this branch of my immediate family, to crawling by long distance communications, to walking long months between visits for a few hours of tank refilling, to possible future of running around for days I am very grateful and pleased to chart our progress.
For now? I am content to crawl and take tentaive steps. Every time we reach out, we let go of the edge and gain our balance, preparing for that next step. I am so blessed and so very, very grateful for this gift of opportunity.
Thank you to God for all source. Thank you to my friends and family for support and prayers. Thank you to Alisha for sharing this chapter of life with your family. Thank you to me for working through the process and for being open to healing and new life of all kinds.
Pacing myself,
Jan M. Olsen
~J~
From Alisha's high school graduation until some point of 2010 we were estranged. There were years I did not know where she lived, how she was doing, or any communications at all. In travelling with my job, I literally drove through her town and did not have an inkling we were within the same state.
2010 marked the beginnings of a season I named Reunion, Reconcilliation, Reconnection. In October 2010, I was invited to fly to Colorado to meet my first grandson, Jeremiah. He was already 7 months old at that time, and my daughter was 21 years old.
It has been said, do not judge another until you walk a mile in their shoes. I choose not to judge at all. I do not judge my daughter or her family. I am learning to judge myself less. I am blessed to be aware, to make choices, and to align myself with precious men and women of a like faith. I have assembled a list of warriors who do not judge me, rather they encourage, nurture, love and inspire me. Humbling progress in all aspects of my Journey, I am buzzing with enthusiasm with every beep of my heart.
Also, I come from a very fervent belief in God and his attributes. It has only been in the past year, though, that I allowed the truths to extend to myself and radiate outward to others. Things like love, gratitude, forgiveness. I knew the words. I practiced them in a limited, case by case way. I did not fully appreciate the literal meaning, nor did I live it in thought, word, or deed. A lot of time has gone by, walking in a fog of pain and missed moments. That time will not return to me, no matter how I dwell on it. Today, however, is here and I embrace it. Fully exploring and employing love, gratitude, and forgiveness, I choose to go ahead into the future with new optimism and creative purpose.
This recent trip to see my family in Colorado was amazing. New births and new beginnings to be celebrated. Connecting dots with all my senses. Exchanging hugs, sharing meals, heartwarming talks from deep within us, my daughter and I bonded again.
Wonderous gifts to be given, I was allowed the privilege of dressing newborn infant Terran and wrapping him in a swaddling blanket, I placed him in his mother's arms to be nursed before going home, I was able to breathe his sweetness in during his FIRST 24 HOURS on this earth. I accompanied them in the elevator as they left the hospital and helped adjust the buckles securing his carseat for their ride home to his daddy and brother. Tender moments that only come once in a lifetime.
Playing with 16 month old Jeremiah and enjoying his childhood developments made this NanaJ very happy and warm inside. I think of it as going to the fuel pumps and turning the pump to *on*, setting the nozzle to run full speed, and leaving it in the tank until it clicks when capacity has been reached. My "love tank" has received an infilling, for that I am so grateful.
Yet, I saw the new baby an estimated 4 hours, and Jeremiah perhaps 3 hours in a time period of 48 hours. There is still progress to be made in reconcilliation with Alisha's husband. The relationship with my daughter improves with every text, phone call, email, or visit, but it is a process that is unfolding over time and careful nurturing on all parts.
I have people in my corner that are offended by how little I was able to see my family. When you look at numbers? In black and white, the money and time resources spent to travel and visit do not have a reasonable return in the opposite column on the chart.
What is important to note? I AM BLESSED! I AM GRATEFUL. I SEE PROGRESS. I EXCHANGE LOVE, GRATITUDE, AND FORGIVENESS IN A FLOW IN AND OUT OF ME.
So while I did not stay in their home, or spend full days inside of their world? While we met at hospitals, motels and resteraunts and had to go out to shop or hang out? I very much consider this trip a resounding success! We made inroads into reconcilliation. Alisha and I discussed potential offers for how her husband Tony and I might connect in the future.
I am asking my friends to not see this as time or money wasted. Do not be indignant on my behalf. Celebrate progress with me. Moments seized and enjoyed to their fullest, just as they presented themselves.
Jeremiah had to learn something important. Terran will follow in his time. God will facilitate the future. The lesson to be gleaned here? Is to crawl before walking. Walk before running.
From zero communication with this branch of my immediate family, to crawling by long distance communications, to walking long months between visits for a few hours of tank refilling, to possible future of running around for days I am very grateful and pleased to chart our progress.
For now? I am content to crawl and take tentaive steps. Every time we reach out, we let go of the edge and gain our balance, preparing for that next step. I am so blessed and so very, very grateful for this gift of opportunity.
Thank you to God for all source. Thank you to my friends and family for support and prayers. Thank you to Alisha for sharing this chapter of life with your family. Thank you to me for working through the process and for being open to healing and new life of all kinds.
Pacing myself,
Jan M. Olsen
~J~
Saturday, July 2, 2011
A Gift To Be Fully Present
Lately I have kept a grueling schedule. This has enabled me to traverse old friends of familiar interstates heading from South Florida, up and over to the Southwest over to Texas, turning northerly to Oklahoma, and back across I-40 in Arkansas, to Memphis, then US 78 through Mississippi to Alabama. Today I am a bit melancholy and tired.
Being deep in my head is common after spending any length of time with my parents longer than it takes to leave a voicemail. I am always .... anyway. It was a gift to stop by today and spend 3 hours with them. Time that if I let it slip away, would not return again. This visit was okay.
Once I drove on to McDonough, GA (south of Atlanta) to deliver my load, I decided to stay over night, begin fresh in the morning the trip to South Carolina and back to Atlanta on Sunday. So I went next door to the receiver to an abandoned warehouse to park during a snarling summer thunderboomer.
Enjoying WREK 91.9 Jazz radio, I even discovered I could download an APP on my new Sprint EVO 4G that streams this station and 4, 999 others. It was funny hearing the radio, and streaming a few seconds behind. Like dueling banjos. Saturday night programming here is amazing jazz, swing, Dixie...etc. Almost no talk or vocals at all. Ahhhhh yes, MY kind of music. Giving in to the swing...
Decided to go for a barefoot walk along the grass skirts. Talk about FULLY PRESENT? The feel of the squishy, soft grass. The slight dampness. The roll of the foot reminds me how fearfully and wonderfully human beings are created to be. I stepped onto the pavement just to feel the texture difference. Still almost warm, gritty, smooth, sandy...
Ended up at one end of the building, out of earshot of the truck radio. There I stopped and did what I have needed to do for a WEEK.
B-R-E-A-T-H-E.
For the sheer pleasure of being able to do so. For inspiration. For clearing.
Eyes closed, deep, full, long, slow breaths. Giving myself the gift of nothing more pressing on my duty than following my breath.
It always touches my tender heart when I give in to this basic need of breathing on purpose and I discover the world underneath it all. The 2 or 3 hot rain drops on my face. The birds are different in the pines to my left, than they are in the oaks to my right. It is dusk, and the cicadas are stirring a concert among the woods. The occasional burping of thunder, off in the distance teasing a parched Atlanta.
The feel of the ground beneath me. The bizz of electricity along a guide wire. The breeze that stirs my hair, tickles, and cools my arms and legs.The yap of a dog, some neighborhood away through the trees. The sticky humidity and drying sweat.
In the last two days I have had phone calls with both of my daughters. I estimate 2 1/2 hours of talk time. Texting, emails. That's in addition to the round I made to the people I mentor and support. I'm used to spending holidays working, and even prefer that than to sit around alone. Yes, once upon a time, it was family .... now, it is quiet of voices and laughter.
This is why it meant so much to me to be Fully Present with the ambient love of God in all He has created and sent my way today, in this exact moment.
As I got closer to my truck, I recognized the music was a trombone soloist scatting on his horn. I do not miss my ex husband Ole in the slightest. What I do fondly remember is that our home ALWAYS had the sounds of music in it. Ole riffing on his trombone was how he relaxed after his work day. He came home, made the rounds, took off his shoes, and before he turned on the TV or Nintendo, he made love to that trombone of his.
I play as well and there was a time it was a duet. The girls can pick up any instrument and within moments be carrying along with their daddy. Or they would sing with his playing.
That kind of moment is what I long for when I think of "home" and family. Sharing love of each other through laughter, song, impromptu dance, and inspiration.
It was Paul Rutherfords, "Tetrology" that was playing. In the back ground, you could hear the echo... it sounded familiar. Again, an Ahhhh of a beloved memory. The wooden practice rooms or stages, always alight with the hum and cacaphony of instruments warming up and tuning, never quite together, just a NOISE that was beautiful in its necessary reality.
And I miss that.
When the radio timed out, I didn't renew it. I had turned ol' Andy Android off before my walk. I am sitting doors and windows of my truck home open, listening to the birds banter and the thunder rumble around me. Feeling a bit of apprehension noticing the miniscule spider swinging on its silk in the passenger window.
This half hour or so of deliberately breathing, in, out, and sending the white healing air to my aching tense spots, and exhaling the dusky mess of pain and inner blues out has relaxed me. The walk back to my truck was slow and rambling, the grass still squishy underfoot.
If tomorrow comes? It will be a new day with no mistakes in it. There will be an opportunity to seize the day and hit it balls to the wall.
Tonight? I breathe in. I breathe out. And I smile, fully present. I am full of gratitude and love and have exercised forgiveness of myself and others. It has been a good week. And thus it closes, and a new one sits before me.
Soaking in the moment,
Jan M. Olsen
~J~
Being deep in my head is common after spending any length of time with my parents longer than it takes to leave a voicemail. I am always .... anyway. It was a gift to stop by today and spend 3 hours with them. Time that if I let it slip away, would not return again. This visit was okay.
Once I drove on to McDonough, GA (south of Atlanta) to deliver my load, I decided to stay over night, begin fresh in the morning the trip to South Carolina and back to Atlanta on Sunday. So I went next door to the receiver to an abandoned warehouse to park during a snarling summer thunderboomer.
Enjoying WREK 91.9 Jazz radio, I even discovered I could download an APP on my new Sprint EVO 4G that streams this station and 4, 999 others. It was funny hearing the radio, and streaming a few seconds behind. Like dueling banjos. Saturday night programming here is amazing jazz, swing, Dixie...etc. Almost no talk or vocals at all. Ahhhhh yes, MY kind of music. Giving in to the swing...
Decided to go for a barefoot walk along the grass skirts. Talk about FULLY PRESENT? The feel of the squishy, soft grass. The slight dampness. The roll of the foot reminds me how fearfully and wonderfully human beings are created to be. I stepped onto the pavement just to feel the texture difference. Still almost warm, gritty, smooth, sandy...
Ended up at one end of the building, out of earshot of the truck radio. There I stopped and did what I have needed to do for a WEEK.
B-R-E-A-T-H-E.
For the sheer pleasure of being able to do so. For inspiration. For clearing.
Eyes closed, deep, full, long, slow breaths. Giving myself the gift of nothing more pressing on my duty than following my breath.
It always touches my tender heart when I give in to this basic need of breathing on purpose and I discover the world underneath it all. The 2 or 3 hot rain drops on my face. The birds are different in the pines to my left, than they are in the oaks to my right. It is dusk, and the cicadas are stirring a concert among the woods. The occasional burping of thunder, off in the distance teasing a parched Atlanta.
The feel of the ground beneath me. The bizz of electricity along a guide wire. The breeze that stirs my hair, tickles, and cools my arms and legs.The yap of a dog, some neighborhood away through the trees. The sticky humidity and drying sweat.
In the last two days I have had phone calls with both of my daughters. I estimate 2 1/2 hours of talk time. Texting, emails. That's in addition to the round I made to the people I mentor and support. I'm used to spending holidays working, and even prefer that than to sit around alone. Yes, once upon a time, it was family .... now, it is quiet of voices and laughter.
This is why it meant so much to me to be Fully Present with the ambient love of God in all He has created and sent my way today, in this exact moment.
As I got closer to my truck, I recognized the music was a trombone soloist scatting on his horn. I do not miss my ex husband Ole in the slightest. What I do fondly remember is that our home ALWAYS had the sounds of music in it. Ole riffing on his trombone was how he relaxed after his work day. He came home, made the rounds, took off his shoes, and before he turned on the TV or Nintendo, he made love to that trombone of his.
I play as well and there was a time it was a duet. The girls can pick up any instrument and within moments be carrying along with their daddy. Or they would sing with his playing.
That kind of moment is what I long for when I think of "home" and family. Sharing love of each other through laughter, song, impromptu dance, and inspiration.
It was Paul Rutherfords, "Tetrology" that was playing. In the back ground, you could hear the echo... it sounded familiar. Again, an Ahhhh of a beloved memory. The wooden practice rooms or stages, always alight with the hum and cacaphony of instruments warming up and tuning, never quite together, just a NOISE that was beautiful in its necessary reality.
And I miss that.
When the radio timed out, I didn't renew it. I had turned ol' Andy Android off before my walk. I am sitting doors and windows of my truck home open, listening to the birds banter and the thunder rumble around me. Feeling a bit of apprehension noticing the miniscule spider swinging on its silk in the passenger window.
This half hour or so of deliberately breathing, in, out, and sending the white healing air to my aching tense spots, and exhaling the dusky mess of pain and inner blues out has relaxed me. The walk back to my truck was slow and rambling, the grass still squishy underfoot.
If tomorrow comes? It will be a new day with no mistakes in it. There will be an opportunity to seize the day and hit it balls to the wall.
Tonight? I breathe in. I breathe out. And I smile, fully present. I am full of gratitude and love and have exercised forgiveness of myself and others. It has been a good week. And thus it closes, and a new one sits before me.
Soaking in the moment,
Jan M. Olsen
~J~
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