On the Eve of 2015

The earth turns and a new day begins
and tonight it brings a new year
just another orbit around the sun
yet, a symbol of renewal
a chance to start again
resolve to be different, do better
as a person, as a community, as a world.
Let us open our hearts and minds to peace
Let us learn that violence and hate only beget violence and hate
Let us choose our words carefully, and our deeds even more so
Let us start with our our family, friends and coworkers
Let us allow the ripple to expand beyond us.
With love, with laughter, 
with restraint and understanding,
we can change this, the only world we have.

©2014 Noreen Braman

For NYC and all of us, a holiday wish we need to work on all year

All my life I have found music to be a source of comfort, inspiration and communication. Sometimes a melody or a lyric will express an emotion better than anything I can come up with myself. And this Christmas, as I find myself mourning over the horrors that seem to be proliferating everywhere, I am wisely reminded by friends that we cannot give up, we must do what we can, where we are. As a writer, as a woman, as a mother, I seek to find words to make sense of recent events. I cannot. But what I can do is share a holiday song, that — while dedicated to New York City and is particularly poignant this year — it sends a global message recognizing both the longing for "peace within our time" and the need for us to spend more time bringing our compassion and forgiveness into all that we do.

Rob Thomas - Merry New York Christmas

Lyrics:
Call on your Angels, come down to the city
Crowd around the big tree, all you strangers who know me
Bring your compassion, your understanding
Lord, how we need it on this New York City Christmas
Yeah, I'm sending you a Merry New York Christmas
And a prayer for peace on earth within our time
Hear the sidewalk Angels echo, "Halleluja"
We understand them, now more than ever
So call on your angels, you're beaten and broken
It's time that we mended so they don't fade with the season
Let our mercy be the gifts we lay from Brooklyn to Broadway
And celebrate each and every day of this New York City Christmas
Yeah, I'm sending you a Merry New York Christmas
And a prayer for peace on earth within our time
Hear the sidewalk angels echo, "Hallelujah"
We understand them, now more than ever
Merry New York Christmas
Call on your Angels, come down to the city
Let's crowd around the big tree, all you strangers you know me
Bring your compassion, bring your forgiveness
Lord, how we need it on this New York City Christmas
Yeah, I'm sending you a Merry New York Christmas
And a prayer for peace on earth, it's not too late
Yeah, the sidewalk Angels echo, "Hallelujah"
We understand them, we hear them say
Merry Christmas, ah yeah, yes, a New York City Christmas
Merry New York Christmas

Rob Thomas - A New York Christmas Lyrics | MetroLyrics

Senseless Tragedies

A senseless tragedy remains forever tragic, but it is up to us whether it remains forever senseless. ~Robert Brault

Until we, as a species, can put aside the constant focus on, and inflammation of, what separates us, there will never be peace or understanding.

My heart is broken from all the worldwide "senseless tragedies" that occur on a daily basis, and I am unable to comprehend a world where only more "senseless tragedy" is tolerated and even encouraged.

Some have occurred in distant places, others too close to home; but all have made me sick at heart, unsure of the future of civilization, and they shake my own confidence that doing work in the laughter and happiness field is doing any good anywhere.

Oh me, Oh life, oh time slipping into the future

Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin'
Into the future …

             Fly Like An Eagle — The Steve Miller Band

The question, O me! so sad, recurring–What good amid these,
O me, O life?

Oh me! Oh Life! — Walt Whitman

I woke up this morning and realized that suddenly, it was the week before Christmas, 2014. Christmas number 59 for those of you who are counting along with me.

The time between the end of summer and today is a blur, despite my desire to slow down time, analyze life and savor each day for its merits. Life, unfortunately, doesn’t like to be scrutinized that closely, and it wriggles and struggles the tighter you hold it, like a little bird fighting to free itself from your hand. Sometimes I think of life as a boat with a capricious driver, and I am the water skier behind it, just trying to hang onto the rope.

Halloween flew past me, and I am sure there were some costumed grandchildren and candy distribution, even some crocheted candy corn dolls for the little ones. For a brief moment I had time to ruminate on Halloweens past: my own costumed adventures and those of my children as they grew. But mostly I was distracted by the impending move of my son, daughter-in-law and granddaughter to Iowa, all on the heels of my son’s knee surgery, my own smashed finger and the usual waves of sniffles, colds and viruses that bloom in the little ones, who are only too eager to share.

By Thanksgiving the engine on the stress train was belching huge clouds of steam, tempered only by a lovely Ladies day out at a local tea room for a 7 course after-Thanksgiving family gathering. Then it was back to packing, hauling and flying to the Midwest with my knee-braced son and his daughter, while his wife and mother-in-law drove the car. It was a whirlwind of activity, punctuated by tears I tried to hide and I returned to New Jersey weary and sick. Not much time to reflect on life, philosophize on the meaning of it, compose poetry about it or write blogs to document the passage of it. No, instead I was living it.

Now, I race to catch up on holiday rituals, chores and preparations. Another offspring’s family is moving to a new house as I write this – closer to me. The Yin and Yang of this is not lost on me, even as I burn the candle of my brain on both ends dealing with financial mayhem and health issues of my own. Anticipated surgery has been canceled because this would have added a level of disability, intense organization and expense too chaotic for even an experienced juggler like me.

So, the sentimental, nostalgic, end of year writing I expected to do, during this, the last Christmas of my 50s isn’t popping up on my computer screen. I cannot wax wise and whimsical, nor create quotable quips to be repeated by family and friends.

Only this: there is nothing more wonderful than being fully engaged in life; balancing a plate that is impossibly full; ears filled with a cacophony of family voices; and a heart full of emotions too plentiful to count.
LIVE.