W.O.W. SUNNY SUNDAY 09/20/15

“Sunny” – What would a Health Blog be without some uplifting, inspirational anecdotes and mantras?


“The other shows us ourselves in a forgotten light, as someone less dull than we thought we had become. We look at each other and we love ourselves”



Do you know someone like this ?

Someone who reflects back to you the person you wish to see?

Someone who reminds you of what it means to be alive?

Not just ‘living’, but truly alive?

Do you have someone in your life for whom YOU are this person?

Someone to whom you give life?

Someone to whom you validate worth and purpose?

Take stock of the people with whom you spend your time…

Do they fit in this category for you – or you for them?

Do you wish they did?

Or, perhaps, you prefer it the way it is – connected enough…but not too close?

These are not questions anyone else can answer.

Nor, are they questions, which you can afford to not answer.

I challenge  you to take time this Sunday. And sit with these questions…

Love them.

Hate them.

Rejoice in them.

Cry for them.

But be present with them.

You get but one turn on the Carousel of Life, you owe it to yourself and whoever or whatever you believe in, to love yourself and to surround yourself with those you love.

looking glass


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Per usual, the The Daily Post [and anatomy] drive me to write poetry… Did you know that you are born with 270 bones and by the time you reach adulthood, you have 206?

Interesting, no?

How you live does matter. Do everything in your power not to destroy the beautiful machine that is your body and the beautiful light that is your soul. Mother Nature may be working against us, but all the same. ____________________________________________________________

Ask any doctor and you will hear

Of an anatomical truth they hold dear:

Her Bones

Upon birth there were two-seven-zero

The good ‘ol days

When her dad was her Hero

The wonder years

When she wasn’t afraid to look in the mirror

Time goes by

She doubts Mother Nature and flinches from Father Time

The days of two-seven-zero sit atop a mountain of lies she just can’t climb

Her Bones

Ask any doctor and you will hear

Of an anatomical truth they hold dear:

By the third decade of Life

She has encountered the winds of change and the aires of Strife

Now There is but two-zero-six

64 Lost

The threshold of Innocence has long since been crossed

It’s strange, you know?

She can’t recall choosing which got to stay

And which had to go

64 Lost

Surely, this can’t be right

How did so many slip through the cracks without recognition,

Let alone a Fight?

As she sat and pondered this unexpected plight

The evidence began to mount

The pains, the sorrows, they were more numerous than she could count

Her Bones

Of Courage

Of Cheer

Of Strength

Of Hope

Of Pride

Of Humor

Seem to have all but dried up

Was this what it meant to be an adult; to be mature?

There seemed to be so much disappointment one had to endure

She used to think she could never be quite sure

She sat at her desk, paper and pen, determined to disprove such a cynical path

But there it was, the price of Life, indeed had its Cost

Such painfully simple math

64 Lost