International Day of Happiness

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Happiness makes up in height for what it lacks in length is the title of a poem by Robert Frost.  It’s a good point.  Happiness comes in bursts, a sudden flood of impromptu pleasure.

Millions of things can give us happiness.  A surge of creativity, laughter, a friend, a child born, a new flower in the garden, music, family, climbing a mountain, doing something special, doing nothing, a cat, giving, talking, loving, seeing, helping, work we love, finding our true purpose, spirituality, kindness.  I’m hardly scratching the surface.

Today is the official International Day of Happiness designated by the UN in 2013, intended to celebrate the happiness that all humanity is capable of.

Our capacity for happiness is boundless.  May today be a day you swim in happiness.  And may it be just one day of many.

Love,

Ingrid

A very happy anniversary!

Love your jobToday is the 34th Anniversary of Effective Training Solutions.   I remember the day I started ETS like it was 2 weeks ago.  Actually, it feels like it’s only been 2 weeks – the time has been so rich and has flown by.

I was grinning on March 15, 1983.  I’m grinning all day today.

There’s never been a day or a moment I didn’t want to be here.  The joy of this work is inexpressible.  The clients have been and are amazing beyond words.  The team I work with makes each day a celebration.  Their passion, intelligence and skill will make history.  I’m grateful for all of it.

And now I get to do it for another 34 years.  So happy.

Love,

Ingrid

I have spread my dreams under your feet

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Last week I wrote about the beginnings of my love affair with poetry.  This week I thought I’d show you 3 poems I love – you can see if you like them too.

The first, written by Emily Dickinson, captures how wonderful hope is.  I delight in the feeling hope creates, this marvelously uplifting eager anticipation of something good on the verge of happening.  I feel the pleasures of hope often and am immensely grateful that it springs eternal.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers –
That perches in the soul –
And sings the tune without the words –
And never stops – at all –
The second poem was written by Theodore Roethke to his wife.  Powerful love.  Powerful wish.

May the eyes in your face
Survive the green ice
Of envy’s mean gaze;
May you live out your life
Without hate, without grief,
And your hair ever blaze,
In the sun, in the sun …

And the third poem, by  William Butler Yeats of Ireland, is best read out loud (as possibly all poetry is, but this one truly demands it).  I find it unspeakably vulnerable and tender.

Had I the heaven’s embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light;
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

In truth, we all spread our dreams under the feet of others and wish them to tread softly.

May others tread softly on your dreams.  I know I certainly will.

Love,

Ingrid

What is Poetry?

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My first day in 6th grade didn’t start as expected.

Mrs. Zinn waited for every one of us to sit down in our little chairs with a determined glare.  She had bright red hair matched by a strong, willful presence demanding immediate stillness.  We sat still like tiny statues.

Her first words were, “I’m going to introduce you to poetry.”

I thought, “What????”

And she rolled right into an exquisitely dramatic reading of “Sea Fever” by John Masefield.   She read in a rich voice … beautifully, with fire, lots of meaningful pauses to let each line sink in.

I was as if struck by lightning, utterly enthralled, captivated, mesmerized.  “Keep reading!” my 10-year old mind willed.  That 6th grade September morning began my love affair with poetry.

To my extreme satisfaction and gratitude, Mrs. Zinn started every morning of the school year with a poetry reading.  Bliss.  I would settle into a complete stillness, close my eyes and  listen to her vibrant voice.  She introduced us to a vast world of poets and poetry.  Many of the poems she read us are still favorites of mine.

When I left her class for 7th grade I had severe withdrawal symptoms accompanying the depressing realization I was now in sole charge of locating new poetry … I was dismally on my own.  Once I got over the shock of it, and faced down the confusion of where to hunt (my aunt was, fortunately, a librarian), my life-long search for good poetry began.

Do I like all poetry?  Heck, no!

And most probably neither will you.  You shouldn’t expect to.

It helps to understand what poetry is.

Poetry’s a type of writing. It’s super concentrated writing.

Poetry propels an intensity of emotional impact directly from the poet’s pen straight into your psyche before you have time to think about it.  It bypasses logic.

If it doesn’t pierce every emotional protective barrier you’ve installed, if it doesn’t shoot unswervingly straight into the tenderness of your soul, if it doesn’t make the world suddenly stand still and fill you with profound joy and the sense of being intensely and amazingly understood by another human being you’ve never met, it’s not your kind of poetry.  It’s a very personal experience.  You decide.

American poet Emily Dickinson wrote, “If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.”

Over the years I’ve found many poets I’m bonkers over.  I’m willing to skim along the surface of numerous poems and poets to find the precious ones who pierce the thick veils of reality and living with new lightning bolts for me.

These are the ones I read aloud (to myself and anyone who will listen), over and over for years, finding never-ending pleasure in hearing their beautiful words and meanings that fill and nourish my soul.

Thank you, Mrs. Zinn.  You gave me a gift for life.

Love,

Ingrid

 

 

 

Why I like hanging out with this guy

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I wish he lived in my neighborhood, but unfortunately we’re separated by 3,000 miles and more than 200 years.  However, books are powerful time travel machines.  2 minutes into a great book, I am right there; wherever there is, I’m living the hot-blooded adventure.

About 25 years ago I stumbled onto George Washington’s letters.  I scanned through a couple of them expecting to be either totally bored or put off by the old-fashioned writing.  That’s not what happened.  He swept me off my feet.

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George wrote either by hand with a quill pen or dictated to a secretary who wrote with a quill pen.  The process of dipping your pen into ink and writing your thoughts out by hand lends itself to unhurried thoughtfulness.

Letters were considered an art form back then.  You were judged on your ability to express yourself, to reach your unseen reader, to provoke an intense intellectual response and evoke powerful emotions.  And, even more importantly, to ignite action.

George’s style of writing, coupled with his amazing character and personality, create a magic that feeds an inner part of my soul like no other writer.   I also love Thomas Jefferson’s writing and will save that for another blog.

Today is President’s Day, a day which always makes me bemoan the scarcity of knowledge in today’s society about our early presidents.  George is known as a military leader and president.  It’s not commonly known how profoundly skilled he was as a writer.

He spent most of the Revolutionary War writing letters – he wrote 20-30 each day.  He wrote way more than he fought.  In his lifetime he wrote approximately 20,000 letters.  He knew these letters were recording vital history and that they’d be preserved.

He wrote about honor, conduct, hardship, fortitude, strategy, necessity, love of ideals and leadership.  His letters are all eloquent and they take my breath away.

I think if I received one letter today that was similar to one of his letters, I would simply pass out with joy.

I find reading him in the original is way better than reading about him.  You can think of a good friend – would you rather have them talk to you directly or have someone else tell you what they said?

George had a beautiful relationship with his wife, Martha (whom he called Patsy).  They exchanged many letters but he instructed her to burn their correspondence after his death because it was too personal and intimate to be shared.  Only two letters to Martha survive.  The first is when he is telling her he won’t be coming home to Virginia from Philadelphia because he’s been named Commander of the American Army and he’s going north.  He writes:

“You may believe me, my dear Patsy, when I assure you, in the most solemn manner, that, so far from seeking this appointment, I have used every endeavor in my power to avoid it, not only from my unwillingness to part with you and the Family, but from a consciousness of its being a trust too great for my Capacity, and that I should enjoy more real happiness and felicity in one month with you, at home, than I have the most distant prospect of reaping abroad, if my stay was to be Seven times Seven years.”

Isn’t it amazing to read something from an age where they not only didn’t stress short sentences, but you had the freedom to fully express yourself in one of them?  I adore the long sentences of that time.  They take you on an emotional journey, each one.

I love hanging out with George Washington.  His letters nourish my fiery passion for ideals, courage, leadership and most importantly, character.  He really understood character.  On this special day dedicated to him, I’m going to curl up with a fabulous cup of tea, some good music and his speech to his officers in New York in 1781, the speech that put tears in all eyes in the room.

Love,

Ingrid

Happy Valentine’s Day!

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This is one of my favorite holidays because it celebrates love.

I think there’s no form of love I don’t, well, love.  There’s falling in love.  Then there’s the deep love that comes from a good marriage that lasts and lasts.  There’s the special love between parents and children.  And the profound bond between best friends.  There’s even the way my cat looks at me that goes straight to my heart.

Don’t you find the warmth of this human emotion to be magnificently powerful?  A strong dose of love lifts us up and makes our lives sun-filled.  Its absence makes us gloomy and even lonely.

When someone extends their friendship or love, we grow more courageous and optimistic.  When their eyes or tone of voice unmistakably communicate they deeply care for us, we soften considerably, our burdens seem a bit lighter.  When we feel that amazing burst of love ourselves, our whole world lights up brightly.

It’s beautiful and there’s no such thing as “too much” of it.

I’m wishing you a beautiful Valentine’s Day full of love!  May it light up your world.

And may today be a day of warm affection for the people you work with too.  We’re really never too busy to take a moment to enjoy the beauty of human collaboration.  Let yourself feel the love you have for them.  You’ll light up the world with your special magic for that Valentine moment.

Love,

Ingrid

Hello!

IngridGudenas-48 (IG likes)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Welcome to my blog! Very glad you came.

I’m Ingrid Gudenas. I have a vibrant professional life.  That’s not what this site is about though.  The purpose of this site is personal expression.  I’m going to write about things I personally find interesting, more “life-related” than “work-related”.  Things I don’t get a chance to talk about at work, topics meaningful to me personally, and, hopefully, to you too.

These blogs will span a lot of territory.  They’re going to be fun.  So, if you’re interested, come on in and have a look around!  Possibly what I write will distract you from the daily grind.

If you know me even a little, you’ll know I love when communication goes both ways.  So if what you read here inspires your thoughts, I’d love to hear them.

Looking forward to communicating with you!

Love,

Ingrid