Nemophilist


Nemophilist (n.) – Origin: Greek – Definition: A haunter of the woods; one who loves the forest and its beauty and solitude.

So many forests in so many countries with so many people with so little time. Park forests, mountain forests, island forests, animal forests.  I cannot say all of this better than the people I am quoting below.

“And into the forest I go to lose my mind and find my soul.”

– John Muir

“Gold is a luxury. Trees are necessities. Man can live and thrive without gold, but we cannot survive without trees.”

– Paul Bamikole

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“I found far more answers in the woods than I ever did in the city.”

– Mary Davis

“In some mysterious way woods have never seemed to me to be static things. In physical terms, I move through them; yet in metaphysical ones, they seem to move through me.”

John Fowles

“For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfil themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: in the rings of its years, its scars, all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow.

Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.

A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life. The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar on my bark. I was made to form and reveal the eternal in my smallest special detail.

A tree says: My strength is trust. I know nothing about my fathers, I know nothing about the thousand children that every year spring out of me. I live out the secret of my seed to the very end, and I care for nothing else. I trust that God is in me. I trust that my labor is holy. Out of this trust I live.

When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me! Life is not easy, life is not difficult. Those are childish thoughts. Let God speak within you, and your thoughts will grow silent. You are anxious because your path leads away from mother and home. But every step and every day lead you back again to the mother. Home is neither here nor there. Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.

A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning. It is not so much a matter of escaping from one’s suffering, though it may seem to be so. It is a longing for home, for a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother.

So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.”
― Herman Hesse

forest: roth; michele; mark; sustainabilitea; becky; Mason; Eddie; paula; phillip; Ingrid; cherie; cepcarol; sandy; paul; sue; rebecca

Smultroställe


Smultroställe (n.) – Origin: Swedish – Definition: A special place discovered, treasured, returned to for solace and relaxation; a personal idyll free from stress and sadness.

In every conceivable manner, the family is link to our past, bridge to our future.  ~Alex Haley

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When I first read the word – Smultroställe – I thought to myself, “This word means family.”  OK that’s a lie.

When I first read the word – Smultroställe – I thought to myself, “What the heck is a smult-tro-sally”.  So i looked it up and thought to myself, “To me, this word actually means happy place”  The second thing I thought to myself was, “How in the heck do you pronounce this word?”

In complete transparency, I still do not know how to pronounce it, but I can unequivocally state that my smultroställe is not just my family but it is my every person in my world who has existed in my happy place.  Every person who has taken the time to reduce the daily drama and make me laugh.  It is every person who has laughed with me and not at me. (Even when they ARE sometimes laughing at me.)  It is every person who has chosen to spend time with me to create the millions of happy memories that I currently own.  The memories that I will have and cherish until the day I die. The happy memories that I will have and carry with me until I go beyond death.  Maybe to infinity and beyond.  My smultroställe is YOU.

I found my happy place the minute I saw you.  ~Sherrilyn Kenyon

To my million smultroställes.  Come on, you know who you are!

The most beautiful things are not associated with money; they are memories and moments. If you don’t celebrate those, they can pass you by. ~Alek Wek

I am a collection of thoughts and memories and likes and dislikes. I am the things that have happened to me and the sum of everything I’ve ever done. I am the clothes I wear on my back. I am every place and every person and every object I have ever come across. I am a bag of bones stuck to a very large rock spinning a thousand miles an hour.  ~Macaulay Culkin

When you finally discover your happy place, your soul will be more easily protected from all the darkness around.  ~Christine E. Szymanski

I collect memories. I look for opportunities to try new things, go to new places, and meet new people all the time.   ~Marcel Wanders

Happy places and memories:  Inspired; Suzy; Keyne; candice; Roth; kk; trent; Anita; carol; Rebecca~MM; Kait; Pete; Shweta; Smelly; Rad; Paean

Vorfreude


Vorfreude (noun) Origin:  German | The joyful anticipation that comes from imagining future pleasures.

Two more weeks and I’m off on vacation!  Woot Woot.  I have built in a couple of mandatory road trips.  Last year, I flew in and out of my home town with the expectation that I would take a short road trip during my time with my family.  2020 ended up being all about dad and due to him being sick, it never happened.  So this year, I am flying in and out of Seattle which will force me to  drive from Seattle to Spokane.  It’s a great 4-5 hour drive through some beautiful country.  Valley to plains to mountains to rainforest to ocean.  My second trip will be to Oregon to check out some areas for future reference.  No solid plans, just a solid plan to hit the road with some fun tunes and a carful of random gas station snacks.  Nothing makes me happier.  I mean in general.  A lot of things make me happier but road trips top the list.  From childhood to my most recent years, they are my favorite memories.  I can’t wait!

“Map out your future – but do it in pencil. The road ahead is as long as you make it. Make it worth the trip.” – Jon Bon Jovi

“Sometimes the road less traveled is less traveled for a reason.” –Jerry Seinfeld

“I get emotionally attached to the cars ahead of me on long road trips.” – Unknown

“That’s why I love road trips, dude. It’s like doing something without actually doing anything.” – John Green

“It doesn’t matter how old you get, buying snacks for a road trip should always look like an unsupervised 9-year-old was given $100.” – Unknown

Vorfreude:  Imi; moom; Andreas; Ab; lauren; sexy; moms; 365reasons; glen; raeventure; stephen; Faye

Natsukashii


Natsukashii (Adjective) Origin: Japanese | A happy recollection of an event or memory.

The adjective originally described wanting to keep something close or wanting to express fondness for something. Over time, this term was used more to describe happy reminiscences, leading to the modern meaning. Take note that this is different from a nostalgic longing, but more of joyous remembrance of a past memory.

I was trying to find a single picture to go with this word.  I could not.  I have more joyous remembrances of times past than nostalgic longings.  I tend not to focus on the things that went wrong.  I do sometimes miss what is no longer there but I can honestly say that I would generally never want to go back to any period of my life.

I have no regrets. Do not wish for do-overs.  I believe in the butterfly effect.  If you were able to go back and change just one thing.. what would be different now? You could not guarantee it would be better.  As a matter of fact, it would likely be worse. (you really should watch the movie) I love the journey.

I’m not trying to say it has all been good.  I have had some extreme rough patches in life and at times I have been quite devastated by the twists life has presented.  However, even those times have shaped me to be the person I am today.  The one thing that stands out when I look back on my photos is that at every point in my life, even the worst of times … I smile.  I smile and it’s genuine.

When I was about 13 or 14, one of my best friends in junior high gave me a birthday card that read, “The one who laughs… lasts.”  (Thanks JoNelle) It was true.  I did. I still do.

It’s great to reminisce about good memories of my past. It was enjoyable when it was today. So learning to enjoy today has two benefits: it gives me happiness right now, and it becomes a good memory later. George Foreman

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Happy memories:  Arristela; paradise; nzain; vrunda; Jane; plaridel; Brendan; Teresa; reluctant; Jaya; Tim; wandering; sakshi; supreet; chinhooi; scribble; hope

Annu Miarabilis


Happy New Year!!!

Annu Miarabilis (n.) (phr.) – Origin: Latin – Definition: A remarkable or notable year in history; a year of wonders and miracles, used to speak hopefully of the future.

happy new year

The year 2020 has brought us so much negativity and bad news. The world news corps sharing their 24/7 pandemic of fear. COVID-19, an actual pandemic, has caused millions of people to lose their lives or at minimum, their way of life.  Fire, politics, racism, riots, masks, online education, all followed by memes to mock it all.

Based on the above negative aspects of last year, I have decided on a new personal writing/photo challenge for 2021. Words – happy words, weird words, words relating to travel, words that sound funny, words that represent my identity, words that I have never heard of before, words that might very well be made up.

So here is a toast to 2021 with the hope that it will take off in leaps and bounds, turning into an annus mirabilis.  With love and memories to all past travels, smiles, hugs, and kisses and hoping all of these things can resume!!!!

Paul; sadje; charlotte; vincent; Phil; Sandra; Pooja; Debbie; TrangWanderlustigEugenia