MeInMaine Blog

Tag: gratitude is riches blessings

  • Thanksgiving Is Upon Us, Like Most Holidays, It Should Be One Of Many Enjoyed Daily.

    Life is a short journey reflection.

    To learn much quickly. Add it to your repertoire. To shop for, develop, be sure to pick up more awareness. To be able to wade right out without the insecurity of heavy, light or any fear factor. Go way way out deeper than swimming just in the shallow end. Or worse killing time. Staying pretty much parked. High, dry, on shore and boring. Playing it safe.

    Maine Is Small Towns, Grateful, Happier, Simple Living.
    Capture Your Thoughts. Slay Those That Betray You, Keep You From Being Grateful.

    Like in Hearts, go for it.

    Shooting the moon is a staring you in the face option. Don’t miss opportunities. Avoid a silent alarm siren heard loudly. Felt, tasted, seen to just you in the cards you hold.

    The circumstances, situation, personalities of the people that surround you. Pulled from the deck. In “this is all we have” daily shuffle. Dealt to work with so get creative. No whining. Throwing in the cards or folding. Stay in the game.

    You have more than you need inside, around you to achieve, sustain happiness. Take what you need, discard. Or leave the rest for others. To weave into whatever they assemble. Carefully soul search to arrange. Hold on loosely to in humbly, close, clasped together hands. To just give thanks. And the congregation stood, sang, hung onto the last sustaining trailing note of “Amen”.

    Come on in, the water is fine.

    Don’t just hang out, only skim the surface. But end up enjoying a greater sense of appreciation and deep down, wall to wall, top to bottom gratitude completely. Swim harder, longer strokes. Out here in the deep end. Way over your head. Where you can not touch. But it is a-ok. You trust yourself, others, the man upstairs.

    For the day at the beach. To witness just the how good life just can be. When not joined at the hip with three little contingencies.

    Maine Island In Foggy, Mist.
    Get Lost, Be Found. Find Your Island, Special Space In Maine.
    And you just let go. No, you give up, stop fighting it. Resist the no holds barred inner nagging when it shows up. Asks what about …

    If. When. But.

    I will be, can be only happy when those trio of little conditions show up. Are part of the festivities. The sooner the better. Works best in the round and round. Ah, but living in the moment.

    Not mortgaged but lien light. Squeaky clean, free and clear. Looking less at others. What they do or don’t say, what they do or don’t have. Other people if you get busy living outside yourself can distract. Disappoint, discourage. Or simply disappear. Keep your eyes on your own paper. Mind your P’s and Q’s.

    All of us on the green and blue spinning marble are terminal. And thank God just not so fired up the same old same old. Come in many flavors, variations. Have quirks, perks, lumps, bumps. The same, some different than you and I. To add color, spice, humor. Lending a hand to make life grand.

    Our perceptions of others, the fine kettle of fish we find ourselves in. Can give us freedom or fifty lashes. Maybe somewhere in between. But less self absorbed, poor me, not understood. Or enjoying, striving for the white hot spotlight of center of attention. But it’s not about me is it?

    True lasting joy is built, laid, piled a stone, brick at a time. An inside job by you and me humming the tune. Writing the words, placing the notes. To make the ride more enjoyable for all within the very circles we scribe. Include others, stay in loop with all the players. To go along to get along.

    Some people get through life easier than others.

    They make their own luck. Some label it. Mine, dig deep to find inner talent. To hone those survival skills. And tune in the right thinking, not the stinking kind. It helps to center. Negotiate the course that enriches the weary, dusty traveler.

    Maine Small Town Public Supper
    Maine Is A Big State, Small Towns, Folks Close And All Interconnected.
    But does not stop there. It just intensifies. Like a single candle flame that no wind, rain, covering can snuff out or extinguish. Radiating brighter, lasting longer.

    Causing a spark to one by one enlighten others we have to get along with for the greater good. To need, learn from each other. To contribute for the end all best that can be collectively.

    No man is an island. I was lucky to grow up on a Maine farm. Self sufficient, pretty much contained and seeing my family through the day most of them. Learning much as a little grasshopper from the older members, their teachings.

    But sometimes you meet people off the acreage where you work so long and hard. That you can wish you were back on such an island. The folks in your face anywhere but close by, invading your space. Beamed, just on a different one too would suit you just fine.

    You don’t feel good about harboring that agonizing notion.

    But the joy you build in your own little way.

    Maine Is Positive Living, Grateful People.
    Small Town Maine People Are Hard Working, Connected, Grateful.
    That kindles, snaps, crackles inside. Is shared with family is to be preserved. Not robbed, sucked dry by others. Because charity starts at home and that sacred institution is the basis of everything radiating out from there. To be protected at all costs. Thankful, grateful, just happy to be here works best.

    Guard, protect yourself, loved ones from stinking thinking.

    This Thanksgiving I hope for all to be truly grateful, appreciative, humble. To think of those not part of family, a long ways from home. Or without one all together. That are hungry, dirty, cold, depressed, sickly, all alone.

    Make it brighter for those less fortunate without calling attention to yourself or grandstanding. Because it is just the right thing to do. Live everyday as if it is Thanksgiving, Christmas, Veterans Day, the fourth of July, Easter, your birthday. Because it is. Now, who wants more pumpkin pie?

    I’m Maine REALTOR Andrew Mooers, ME Broker
    207.532.6573
    info@mooersrealty.com

  • My Dad Believed In God But Mom Was The Spiritual Leader.

    Growing up on a Maine potato farm, my parents both raised the four boys to be God fearing. Respect for the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.

    Nana, Mary Lou Mooers Preaced, Applied "Gratitude Is Riches" Faith.
    Grateful For All We Had, Were Blessed With. My Mom Taught Her Four Boys That.
    Being out in nature, working the land on a Maine family farm you can not help but gain a greater sense of a higher power. Something way way bigger than yourself. Just crank your head around at the beauty, scenery and wide open space that no man created. That you and I only are here on Earth a short time to enjoy.

    My Mom was from a Hodgdon Maine farm family of nine kids.

    I never knew her mother, my grandmother but heard from all sources what a blessing, joy she was to her family, anyone that met here. My Dad especially I remember remarking a lot while I grew up what a sweetheart she was. So knowing apples don’t fall far from the tree, my Mom had the same potential to be as remarkable, kind, loving, considerate.

    Being simply born a good person, full of joy and kind respect is not a given, does not just happen though.

    Other people may judge you as simply good. Or harshly bad with a like it or lump it attitude for your life here on out. Don’t listen to those people, they don’t define you, God does. You have a hand in working hard to improve, maintain and be a better person. My mom’s early teachings and ones of a kind lady with two girls both have helped me do that. Work hard to be a better person. And to get more out of life opening my eyes, removing worthless heavy baggage that only serves to drag you down.

    Because of the world we live in, due to your and my need for God’s loving, guiding hand all along the way, we need to get on our knees. Wear the carpet thread bare under them. Check in with God daily. My Mom did that. After breakfast, coffee with my Dad on the farm home’s side sun porch or out in a lawn chair under a lilac, Mom got ready for the day. Getting dressed spiritually and materially. I watched it growing up.

    In my parents bedroom there was an arm chair like your would see in a living room or den.

    It was next to an east facing window with a bible, lesson plan in that chair. Where Mom would close her bedroom door and read scripture. Makes notes, highlighting text, praying, talking, sharing with God. Everyday she would like clockwork spend an hour devoting the time exclusively to working on her inside, her best prettiest feature.

    She would ask for understanding with any thing troubling her. She would take her joys, blessings to the Lord and give thanks. And recite prayers for continued healing for this, this and that person. Checking in with the person hurting and needing to know someone cared, prayed to God about it. Mom’s Mom had the same dedication. Growing up I always heard hymns, a carry over of her being the Hodgdon Methodist Church pianist / organist for Sunday services. My wife performs with the same skills, dedication at home on piano and in church.

    “Gratitude is riches” was by far my Mom’s biggest advise to any that knew her. Poverty is complaint. No matter how tough a Maine farm year was, or daily events wore on her, she would joyfully proclaim gratitude for everything in here life. See the good. Three times a day I count my blessings, list out loud morning, noon and night what I am grateful for because of Mom’s example. When you do, you look at the bigger picture and realize overall you and I have way way more than we deserve because of no real effort on our part. That is given to us. We work on the small stuff really in comparison.

    Your happiness, love and respect starts, is generated from within.

    Other people can try their dardest to make your happy. That is a big job for that person. The folks that are hard to live with, are not as grateful as they should be and you can see it on their face, the sadness or scowl. Reach out to help that person.

    You never stretch or grow to share and build a loving relationship with others if you expect everyone you bump in to to be a clone, an identical twin. A differing opinion or outlook is healthy and makes you examine your own. Or can negatively trigger an emotional response that you need to examine. Your reaction where you feel threatened or not able to accept a statement that is contrary to your interpretation of the issue, topic at hand needs reflection.

    God is love.

    I remember reading that over and over on the wall in front of the church. Sitting with my mother, counting the words. And thinking just those three little words sum it up. Say it all. I was raised with a faith that sustains me. I felt loved. I have a strong capacity, a need to give and get love. And one by one depending on the struggle or joy situation that presents itself, I know I am never alone. And where to reach, search for help or give credit for everything going on in my life. I am grateful and that helps me make sense of it all. I wait upon the Lord for instruction, for guidance and direction.

    The mother of our four children shared with me she learned early on to build high mental walls of stone around her. Surrounded by a barrier that she could barely peek up over. To protect and shield her from harm. And to keep people at a safe distance. She also told me, pardon my French, that she liked being perceived as a bitch to give the appearance “don’t mess with me”. I told her that is a lonely, solitaire exile existence. She envied my faith in God, professed not to have it and the ability to just hand everything over. To give the power and control in my life to him was something she could not do because she was not built that way. Needed to be in control.

    Like my Mom, I was the spiritual leader raising the kids. Teaching Sunday school, quoting all the same scripture verses Mom incorporated in her life. Saying prayers with all four after tub time, stories and lights out so the sandman could arrive. That was my job. Lately I have thought of another of Mom’s bible verses. To lean on, hang on and not give up the faith with. That she had written out with perfect penmanship for me to stick on my refrigerator as a daily reminder.

    Mom’s ultimate testimony for her undying love of the Lord happened with my two of my three brothers, wife Lisa the nurse all circled around her.

    Standing around her sitting up in bed at Bangor’s Eastern Maine Hospital. The sun shining in on her with a view of the Penobscot River behind it. The Doctor coming in, announcing stage four cancer results meant a decision to start chemo today was needed. Just as serenely, with no fear or anxiety, I watched her smile. Her pretty hands always with lady like painted nails folded, wearing her Aunt Emma’s fiery opal ring with diamonds surrounding it glistening in the natural light. She looked at all four of us in the room calmly. Announcing she was leaving it up to the Lord. Trusting in her unwavering faith in God and not electing to have any further treatments.

    It was time for her to be with my Dad, her husband of over 60 years that she loved with all her heart and soul. And never complained about it but must of be terrible lonely and missed so much over the last few years.

    Her courage, application of faith when you need it the most demonstrated to her four boys, helped us with acceptance of her death shortly after that. Peace, faith, love and understanding. I owe a debt of gratitude to my wife a nurse who was my rock, the family cornerstone at the ends of both my parents lives. Those events make my love for her deeper, richer. And today it causes tears typing this blog post. The love growing daily because of that and many other unselfish act of kindness she extended. She misses my parents too but we were taught all the same. Not to fear death. Accept it as part of life.

    I’m Maine REALTOR, Andrew Mooers