When life shoots you a bird… cook it!

Okay, we arrived safely over the river and through the woods to grandmother's house. We had our traditional Thanksgiving Eve fried shrimp dinner (hey, different is good!) And I was armed and ready with sharpened knives and fresh poultry seasonings, crispy celery and pungent onion.

You see, with the passage of the years, it's become my pleasure - and honor - to be trusted with the making of the dressing and the dressing of the bird. Or in our family's case since we're all white-meat-only fans, the biggest turkey breast Grandad can lay his hands on.

Imagine my surprise as I unwrapped the ten-pound-plus package to find wings and legs emerging! What kind of mutant turkey breast was this? What had the butcher pawned off on my dear unsuspecting grocery-shopping father-in-law? A closer look at the package, as I'm sure you've now suspicioned, revealed that I was NOT in possession of the world's largest (10.6 lb) turkey breast, but a whole young Butterball gobbler! In went my rubber gloved hands to retrieve the neck - ewwww - giblets and all those other unmentionables. And out went the call to locate the big but little-used roasting pan from its cupboard.

The bottom line? It turned out to be a stellar bird in every way. Golden brown skin. Moist, tender meat. And the two turkey legs? Imagine my surprise to discover that Uncle D had long dreamt of juicy dark meat as a holiday treat to his otherwise heart-healthy diet. And our Russian guest relished the other drumstick just as much.

So what wisdom, you might ask, did I glean from this? Well, for a start, life happens. And, as we all know, it doesn't always go exactly the way we've planned. The perfect turkey breast we have our heart set on, arrives with legs, neck, gizzard and all, The more I think about it, the unexpected arrival of the full bird seems particularly appropriate this year, because for most of us, it's been a white meat - and a dark meat - kind of year. We didn't get to pick and choose only what we wanted to happen, but somehow we had the grace - and the guts - to deal with it all.

The whole enchilada? Forget it! I'll take the full bird treatment any time. Now, how about a turkey sandwich to go?

Sigh of Contentment… Sunday night

Do you have ever have one of those moments when you realize - for one brief moment - that all's right in your world? As I put the last load in the dryer just now, and looked around the kitchen, I have to admit, a sigh of - dare I say it? - contentment came unbidden to my lips.

The dishes are washed. The house is filled with the enticing aroma of home made Bolognese sauce simmering in the crackpot for dinner later this week (and several dinners after.) The bills are paid. And I'm even going to have time to sit and read the Saturday and Sunday newspapers with a nice hot cup of ginger lemon tea by my side. Sigh.

I know that Thanksgiving, with all its traveling, turkey roasting, cranberry sauce making, etc. is just around the corner. My monkey mind wants to jump in and remind me of all that will need to be done in too few days from now.

BUT WAIT! There I go again, getting ahead of myself. I force the monkeys back in their mental cages. Stop. Take a breath. And remember that Right Now is a moment to savor. Just sit, enjoy, and relax.

Now, forgive me Coca Cola, but this is the Pause that Refreshes me!

One small step...

Okay, check another one off my list. I saw - and heard - the Dalai Lama myself. Live and in person. When I learned back in the summer that he was coming to Atlanta, I jumped on the laptop and bought two tickets - good tickets! - knowing that this was my chance!

What I did NOT know then was that he would arrive just days after my dad died. Yes, after one too many calls to the EMTs and one stay too many in ICU, my sweet daddy just couldn't bounce back one more time. It was, in many ways, as peaceful a parting as we could have wished. But all the same, it left me with a huge, gaping hole in my life that found me suddenly subject to what I call 'unexpected waves of non-specific sadness.' Along with many a tear rolling down my cheek.

So, it seemed only fitting that the Universe had supplied this world renown leader bringing his wisdom and peaceful presence into my very own city, just when I needed it most. Along with 4,000 others who quietly attended, I listened… hard. I remembered to breathe. I even took notes. What did I learn? What wisdom did he share? Was I able, as my brother asked, to text him the meaning of life?

Well, not exactly.

My takeaway at that moment from the experience was simply this: 'In the journey we call life,' His Holiness said. 'It is good to make plans; explore options; examine all possibilities. But when you start your journey, you must keep putting one step in front of the other.'

WOW. Like the old song, I asked myself: 'Is that all there is?' But then - and later with further reflection - the truly profound nature of this simple comment really struck me. Yes, we can plan and scheme and hope and dream all we want. Make lists and map out routes, too. But ultimately, life - and death - happens. It's the cycle. It's nature. It's the journey.

So the next time I find myself feeling a little 'lost', missing my dad on the other end of the line, or just having a bad time, I'll call to mind the words I heard that day, simple but profound, and just keep putting one foot in front of the other. Who knows where I'll end up?