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Beth Caldwell - The View From Here

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Slow down and enjoy the now

I originally wrote this column on the last Monday evening in May. I was going to recycle it completely until I reread it and realized a few things were worth revisiting.

The apple blossoms aren't on the breeze anymore. Back then, the scent of the new blooms drifted on the wind pleasing my nose.

I still hear the moan of the lawn tractor belonging to my neighbour. The growing madness grows on. We all are in the timing race to catch the next cut on just the right day, at just the right length, and before the rain.

This is where I am at this moment

Until recently, it had been almost 12 months since I'd picked up a keyboard and wrote a column. What a phenomenal detour once again from the road I was meant to take all my life.

Occasionally over the past few months, readers would ask me if I had stopped writing because I wasn't happy.

I don't deny those people their assumption because I have alluded to that very roadblock in past columns. This time, though, I know for sure that my happy meter was not the issue.

In all honesty, I stopped writing my column because I didn't think I had anything new to say.

The funnies of spring

Have you packed up your winter clothes yet? I have!

Out came the storage bag and the clinging dust bunnies from under my bed. I had washed and folded all my summer stuff last October, jammed everything in the bag, and shoved it in amongst all the other stuff I've got stashed under my sleeping palace.

Have you ever opened a bag of summer clothes, pulled stuff out, cocked your head, and wondered why you would ever wear that? I have.

What's sitting in your cupboard?

I'm actually contemplating spring-cleaning—the old-fashioned kind of spring-cleaning like my grandmother used to do.

The walls in each room get washed down, and the kitchen cupboards get emptied out and everything gets a bath before being returned and hopefully (if memory serves me correctly) to same spot so that it all fits back in there.

Oh yes, I have a lot of junk stuffed in my kitchen cupboards—cupboards that are original to this old farmhouse of the late 1940s, tall and deep enough to hold your imagination.

Here's to all fabulous women

We all know women who inspire us, be they the pioneers of our heritage—those Amelia Earhart types: courageous, living on the edge, outspoken, adventurous, challenged, spirited women folk.

Maybe they are our grandmothers, mothers, daughters, sisters, teachers, best friends, and/or a host of other women who have motivated us to the good.

On April 12, I attended a “History on Tap" presentation by the Koochiching County Historical Society/Museum (International Falls, Mn.) entitled "Women in the Wild-Stories of Pioneer Women in Border Country.”

One small step to positive thoughts

When I go to bed at night, I'm very good at being able to empty my mind of the woebegone happenings of the day.

A long time ago, I learned how—at shut-eye time—to pack a mental suitcase with any worries, frettings, and negative thoughts I might have and give them up to my higher power for safe-keeping until the next day.

I'm a firm believer that on any given night, we all deserve a restful sleep free of the dark, regurgitated materials that might have crossed our daily path.

The evolution of my given word

It has been seven weeks since I last emptied my words here. Wow.

However, contrary to past excuses for not writing, my latest sabbatical from this column had nothing to do with being unhappy. I am, in fact, in a most content and joyful life space, and moreso in an honest and truthful vein, than I have been in for some years.

That's what happens when I listen to my intuition.

Be sure to listen to your intuition

My partner and I almost always have a date on any given Friday night.

And as the evening flows along to that inaugural refreshment, no matter what it may be, we sip not until we toast it between us with “Cheers” as we look intentionally into each other's eyes and not upon the cup or glass—to meet just there in the now, in that moment, greeting each other's most grateful company.

Sappy? Perhaps. But that eyeful ritual matters to both of us. It squares us up to purposeful acknowledgement in our presence of each of us, together.

Let's talk tush and do the right thing

Poop test kit.

I've been thinking a lot lately about those three words, mostly because I'm over 50 years of age—in fact, closer to 60 than 50 (how did that happen?!)—and four or more years overdue for colon cancer screening.

Why? Because I'm a procrastinator and as the doctor would say, “a reluctant attendee” to some (okay just this one) necessary duty of personal pro-health management.

Because let's face it, who wants to mess with a number two—on purpose?

Don't be afraid to open the closet door

Technology, Entertainment, Design. In short, “TED.”

I've been a fan of TED for years. In fact, some of the greatest lessons I've learned have been from TED, a global platform of speakers who share their ideas—be they funny, courageous, ingenious, inspiring, or informative—in talks of 18 minutes or less.

There are more than 1,700 such talks, in 100 different languages, available to us online at