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Monday, January 15, 2024

Monday Mimisms ~ Touching Memories

Don't you hate it when you're discussing something of importance to you that is causing some angst and the person sitting across from you says, "Oh, let it go. You've got to let that go. Just let it go." REALLY ????
POOF. GONE like Girl Gone??

Walk a mile in my snowshoes, Buster! I don't know what the magic bullet is in these matters, but I DO know (and have recently discovered) that when I'm ready to let something go, I'm ready. REALLY ready. Not one minute sooner. Not at the moment of glibness, right on time! 

As I opined on Facebook's mass platform of memes....

I'm getting better at letting go. I noticed today as I threw out bag after soggy box in the basement (Did you know there was a GREAT FLOOD in Bloggingham yesterday??) that hardly any of it bothered me. Nothing I couldn't part with was damaged and it game me an excuse to deeply purge. That roll top desk I've been staring at for 40 years? I used it in the piano room of my first house. Donated.

My son's infant chest of drawers. Donated.

Twelve notebooks of meticulously created Music Theory and Sight-Reading lessons, complete with originally composed vocalize for my classroom back in the day?

That was a hard took weeks to gather all the resources (stop it, Mimi!) You're not teaching anymore and you're so old those resources are out of print)! GONE

But it was nice to sing them again before I trashed them. 

A few lamps were ruined but I realized they weren't my style anymore. Now I can buy newer ones that suit me better.   Silver lining!
I threw away five Christmas trees. FIVE! Who wants a soggy tree?
Twenty-five bags later and I'm still far from finished.

I'm exhausted and exhilarated at the same time.
Rinse. Repeat. Tomorrow.

I touched a lot of memories today. Stories! Stories I'd forgotten.
You will most undoubtedly hear them.
There are some sad AND marvelous tales in that basement...
most are completely unbloggable.

Homer made me sign a non-disclosure agreement 

Back to the soggy dungeon.  See you on the upside.

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Monday, January 1, 2024

Monday Mimisms ~ Happy in My New Year

Mimi 2008 
Monday Mimisms ~ Happy in My New Year

Welcome to 2024 in the year of the blog. Thanks to the WayBack Machine (keep of old blogs!) blogs are infinite and eternal, omnipotent and omnipresent.  I wish people have one of those machines. We could crank up our young, newer, healthier bodies and go from there. 

Back in the day when I used to hide behind trees all day long and try to conjure a word or two, blogging was much more intimate. Our communities were a tight-knit group. We looked out for each other. When the occasional naysayer or troublemaker showed up, we (usually) shoooed them away and blogged on. With the exception of the peace globe bloggers (AMAZING you are!) most of my blogging friends are posting on Facebook or Instagram. I enjoy interacting with you on social media platforms, but sometimes it takes me years to put two and two together..."Oh! Cindy is really Blogging Catalina from Amsterdam! Who knew?" And then we have a small reunion.  There are those who do not want blog and real life Facebook to meet. Totally understandable. I try to honor those requests. I won't out you! 

But seriously, I'm amazed that the majority of my friends on Facebook are peace bloggers. We've gotten to know each other over the years in more personal ways (thanks, Facebook) but as many of us have discussed, it's just not the same as regular blogging. "Blogging is dead," we say....MAYBE....but that's not going to stop me from re-entering the arena.  Blogging makes me happy. Journaling makes me happy. Writing feeds my soul. And I PROMISE...this year I will publish a book off-blog...I PROMISE!! 

2023 was a loooooong year for me and so many of my friends. I've had perpetual health challenges and a car accident mid-year that I'm just now starting to recuperate from, realizing that blogging and living in my 60s is a different universe. Retirement is wonderful!! Aches and pains are not. It takes a little longer to recover from trauma than it used to. 
 Still, I'm determined to fully regain my health in 2024.

I had a fantastic healing beautiful Christmas visit with my kids and grandchildren in their home (as it should be). I have room for a little more hope these days. Let's stay on this path, shall we?

***wait a minute....I thought I wouldn't have anything to say this morning when I decided to crank up the blog; instead, I'm a regular bloggermouth (that's blog + blabbermouth for all your non-blog speakers)....**

I truly hope that if you are still blogging or have a new platform, that you will leave a link below so that we can stay connected and supportive. 
This morning, after meditation/prayer, washing dishes, making bed, starting laundry, feeding Snickers, organizing a drawer...I stopped mid-chore and asked myself, "What creative thing have your done in three hours? Exactly how are you spending your time, Mimi? Priorities seem to be askew!"

And while all those things must be done and I am content to do them, the only thing remotely creative was my silent time (essential to my day) but then I jumped right back on the To-Do Train. This must stop!!!! And it must stop now. 
THIS was dangerous and exciting...

While I don't think meme--stealing is exactly my vibe anymore, I sure am thankful for the fun times right here on Mimi Writes. But that book has been writing itself for awhile in my pencil head, many chapters here in the Blogosphere with you. So much more to tell. I think the crux of the matter is that with age comes wisdom. How much to blab? What to camouflage...But I think I have the perfect balance between privacy and authenticity in mind now. The latter always wins. Always.

 Not to fear, the "old" (vintage!) Mimi will show up soon enough with new pencil skirt tales of craziness. 

It's already happened.

I just posted on Facebook, "New year, new routine. Before I sat down to write the first blog post of the year (new routine) I reached for the bottle of Vitamin C serum (on the right below) and smeared it all over my face...except...ummm....what's that smell??!
It was CBD oil.

I'll be happy all the day long. 
This is going to be one doozy of a post. 
They look alike, right? In case you're wondering, No, I did not wash it off."
Ananda Full spectrum hemp extract 300.
Ten mg cannabinoids oil for nerve pain.
Works for me! Let's see what it does for my wrinkles.

Some things never change.
Welcome to my vintage blog and all the memories it holds. 
Let's make some new ones.
You can smell the cannabis from there right? 

Snickers won't come near me.

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Saturday, November 4, 2023

Dona Nobis Pacem ~ The Room

Welcome to the 18th annual Blog4Peace aka Dona Nobis Pacem in the Blogosphere. We will post Saturday and Sunday, Nov 4-5th wherever you are online. 
Please leave your blog or post link in the MR. LINKY below or in the comments section or tag me on social media. Your peace globe will be added to the Official Gallery of Peace Globes

Our 2023 theme is Change The Room ~ The Transforming Power of Walking in Peace

Dona Nobis Pacem 2023
The Room

A conversation with Spirit 

"Fill them up," He said.
With what? asked the tired peace blogger on the eve of Dona Nobis Pacem. 
My peace boxes

For weeks I've known that the box marked "Early Writings" in the back of the closet would provide the backbone of my peace post. And is my usual custom, I waited until nigh the hour to investigate.

"Fill up the peace angel boxes with words you will choose from your fairly ancient writings.
 I will show you the pattern..."
Ha Ha, Lord. That's a funny comment you made. Ancient, eh? But You know best. Let's begin.

And just like I've picked up Papa's hammer or his earth marble in years past, I listened. 

I am nothing if not obedient. 
Inside the closet box I found love poems....lots of silly love poems. Anguished teenage diaries, college essays, journals, quotes, love letters written and received, peace signs and flower power patches, concert tickets....all in the box. It was the seventies and I was young and overly sensitive about most things; and yet...when I read my teenage epiphanies today, I realize not much in the way of what I really care about has changed. 
Peace. Relationships. Music. God. Rinse Repeat. 

Life happened. I became a very young bride back in the days before electricity (ahem). We made our first home in a little mobile house in the middle of the woods.

It was clean and efficient, secluded and perfect for two.  And because I grew up with a grandfather whose favorite pastime was folding his hands in prayer, the first thing I did was make a prayer and meditation room. A floor cushion, a cross, a Bible, a picture of Jesus, and a candle traveled with me to our first real house in the suburbs. 
That was denominational "meditation" back in the day. I've learned and adjusted much since, adding A Course in Miracles later; nonetheless, it was a fine foundation when I didn't even realize I was building a spiritual practice.

 Wherever we lived, I needed a room. A place to be quiet. A place to pray. A sanctuary of my own away from noise and life's chaos. That has not changed in my ancient times (thanks Lord) though sometimes the "room" is under the wide canopy of an oak tree in the stillness of woods and rocks on my little mountain.

And that's what I did in that little flat-roof suburban house while I waited for our baby to arrive. 

Every day. Every day. Every day. 
at precisely 4:10 pm
It was my favorite part of the day. I couldn't wait to shut the door, kneel on the floor and spend some time alone with God and my writing journal. Going IN the room was like being siphoned into a vortex.
I was drawn into it.

 I knew the "meeting" had been called to order as soon as I shut the door behind me. Palpable presence and peace. The atmosphere was climate controlled by a Presence I can only describe as perfect peace and joy. He never failed to meet me there. When I gave Him my time and attention, He gave me strong weapons: patience, love, clarity, compassion, a softer heart, inspiration, mindfulness, solace

When I was a little girl, I watched my Papa change atmospheres all the time. It was as effortless as changing his hat. People acted differently when he was around. What he carried was palpable.
But the question is...where did he get it? 
Papa's marbles

That's easy. Listen carefully. I'll tell you a secret.
He' s the one who taught me about the room.

His "room" is scorched in my mind.
His room was the Bible on the nightstand in a cold back bedroom, the first thing he touched in the morning.

  His room meant devotions at dawn and scribbled scripture notes in the margins of books you weren't supposed to write in
His room gave thanks at mealtime. 

His room was a recliner that welcomed silent sunrise prayers..
a place none of us disturbed (except the occasional kiss I planted on his forehead as I passed by on the way to breakfast, quietly, quietly you see....) 
 His room meant gentle hands on my shoulder and a tug on my sleeve

There was a Lamp in his room
It showed us who he was, no need for preachy words.
It was fueled by The Book sprawled open on his lap - The Book from which he gathered his strength.  

Copyright 1941 The Upper Room
His room was a well-worn pocket prayer book that he carried with him. Buried under a lifetime of rhymes in the box of many ancient words, I unearthed the small stained power book and its leaves of gold.

 Tonight when I opened the tiny pages, it fell open, right on cue, as if it were still open on his lap as I walked past him to the kitchen 

Tears fell on page 40 as I read
 "In Time of War" and "Prayer For

Can you imagine anything more timely in this hour?

He has shown me the pattern.
 I will place the prayer book in the peace box
where it surely belongs

Marrying prayer and peace sounds like a mighty fine idea.
It was Papa's way. I aspire to his way. 
He didn't make peace, find peace, or go looking for peace -

He carried it.

In his pocket, in his coat, in his mind, in his heart, in his actions, in his demeanor, in his attitude, in his love walk
Going into the room was easy for him. He simply yielded.
I watched. 

No matter what beliefs you hold or where you find your rooms of solace, know that it matters greatly how much of it you carry out into the world with you. 

In this dark and trying time in the world, I'd like to offer Papa's Prayer For Peace
He passed it to me. I pass it to you.

"O God, who hast made of one blood all nations of men, mercifully receive the prayer that we offer for our anxious and troubled world. 
Send Thy Light into our darkness and guide the nations as one family into the ways of peace. Take away all prejudice and hatred and fear. 
Strengthen in us day by day the will to understand.
And to those who by their counsels lead the people of the earth, grant at right judgment, that so, through them and us Thy will be done through Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen." 


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Monday, October 2, 2023

Announcing Blog4Peace ~ Post4Peace ~ November 4-5, 2023!

Welcome Peace Bloggers who Blog4Peace!
 Welcome social media posters who Post4Peace
on a myriad of social media platforms including Facebook, X (Twitter), Instagram and beyond! Wherever you are online, you can join our talented community for this annual worldwide event. We are represented on every continent and country in the world. 
This is our 18th year of peace blogging.

Whether you choose to Blog4Peace or Post4Peace, 
it's the same community and it's all good!

Bloggers and social media posters from all across the globe
will blog and post for peace

NOV 4-5, 2023

Our 2023 Theme is

"Change the Room"
The transforming power of walking in peace
Created by graphic artist Ann Adamus @ Zoolatry

Last year we wrote about FREEDOM and how that privilege is entwined with PEACE. We said No Freedom No Peace. You were amazingly insightful and bold from all corners of the Earth. We talked about how to GET FREE in the midst of unwanted invasion (personal or global). 
This year we're turning inward and moving outward. Let me explain.
This is my challenge to you 

Imagine what would happen if instead of trying to find peace, we walked in with it?
What if we simply carried it in?

What if we were the peace everyone else was searching for? 
What if we expected the room to change when we entered?
 Don't you think it would?
Why can't we be the water and the well?

When I was a little girl I watched my Papa change atmospheres all the time.
It was as effortless as changing his hat.
People acted differently when he was around. You never heard loud voices or cursing or strife when he was in the room; they respected him too much. 
What he carried was palpable. 

I've spent a lifetime trying to follow his example, trying to understand where that power came from, then founded an accidental peace movement from a ragged bag of his dusty marbles.  Decades later they came to life in the story that became Dona Nobis Pacem for all of us in 2006. It was only then that I knew his uncanny penchant for atmosphere shifts was no accident at all. 

Years later he is STILL transforming that wide-eyed little girl 
STILL transforming all of us.
A bowl of marbles and one person
His quiet unconditional love
changed rooms, changed atmospheres, changed me, changes you

What you carry is palpable.
HOW you carry it alters the atmosphere you're in

You either change the atmosphere 
or the atmosphere changes you

Maybe if we all learn how to change the room we could collectively change the world.
We have called attention to the absence of what we want. Instead of focusing on the absence of peace, why don't we just walk in with it like we own the planet?
Because. we. do. 

Maybe I was a bit naively ambitious in 2006 when I asked you to change the world and expected a peace globe to magically appear on 70 million blogs. Today there are 1.9 BILLION websites worldwide; of those, 600 MILLION blogs. Apparently, we're still expecting to make a dent in the atmosphere because, after all, we're still here. 

So walk in like you own it.
Because. you. do. 

The planet is groaning for peace and stability and the world is watching how you carry yourself. 
We are not the ones to fall down or offer tired platitudes. We are not the ones!!
If that's who we are, if that's ALL we are, then I'm out right now.

I'm about to make a bold statement! 
THIS YEAR you will write words that transform. And nothing less.
 You will draw and paint and sing and created from a place of clear knowing! This will be the most powerful year of peace posts we've ever seen.  

From the moment you set your pen to paper, you will feel it. It will happen in you. How do I know?  
Because you've been peace blogging for many many blog years and you just happened to walk right past me a time or two.
 I caught it then and I sense it now. 

So tell us. Tell us how you do it.

You will write stories of how you walked on seeming hot coals unscathed in the past year.
. When all seemed lost and you wanted to give up, you prevailed. When your body and spirit grew weary and the challenges seemed more than you could bear, you prevailed. . 
Someone out there needs to hear that story. 

We don't change the world or the room by ourselves. 
We pass what we carry to each other.
Peace expands.
We transform. 

People will behave differently around you. 
I promise. 

Let's go! It's a launch.

How To Blog For Peace

Peace Globe Templates HERE
Official Peace Globe Gallery 
(see thousands of globes from every country)

Peace globe #1

Use this blank template to make your own peace globe

Contact me at blog4peace @ or on Facebook if you have questions.
Images: Mimi Lenox, Pixabay
©Mimi Lenox All Rights Reserved 
Blog4Peace™ Blog For Peace™ Post4Peace™ BlogBlastForPeace™ et al

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Sunday, July 9, 2023

Monday Mimisms ~ Powerful Whispers

Where have I been? 
It's been a minute. The entire month of June got away from me. Complications showed up. I took a fall on the porch and spent a few painful days sleeping away the bruises. Friends said, "Rest and heal!" That's sooo hard to do. I'm a terrible patient. I keep pushing through sans common sense. 

Lost my writing mojo for one red hot minute while the anti-inflammatory meds became the most important task of the day - but sorely needed (pun intended).
Finding courage in an antique store
2013 - Revisited this post and reclaimed my writing chops

Then I got off my prissy behind (literally) and started venturing out again.
More thrifting. Lunches with beautiful friends to catch up. Soaking in Epsom. Burning lavender candles in the middle of the day. 

Looking for furniture as I redecorate my house. More gentle house decluttering. All gingerly. Slowly. Mindfully. Thankfully. I came so close to breaking my hip. Ummm....perhaps I should sloooooowwww down instead of thinking I'm a modern version of Laura Ingalls Wilder on the Bloggingham Prairie trying to do things I shouldn't be doing. Getting tangled up in a heavy water hose was NO fun. 

I couldn't sit for long periods of time, which turned out to be a good thing: it made me get outside and wander around. Sunshine and grass under my feet. Good for the soul....and the soles.
Naps happened.

 The Lion spoke ten years ago this spring. 
I remember the sound of the muse. Powerful whispers.
And his roar. I'd like to catch a glimpse of him again. It took falling down to get my attention.  I'm ready for a new set of words.
I'm ready for inspiration from the Lion. 
I wonder if he remembers....

Dusting off my pen and paper...

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