Counting Thoughts

I am often in my head. Most times that is decent company but the trouble with staying there (inside myself, keeping thoughts to myself) is that what I think has transpired in real life has actually only happened in my thoughts.
[Now is the time you may find yourself quickly moving to the next blog to read as you may believe that I just divulged the sure fact that I hear voices in my head....]

Point of fact. Recently I got a great e-mail from my sister in law announcing that after more than a year of wading through paperwork, meetings, and scrutinizing home visits the three children she and my brother brought into their home (yes, en masse to join the 2 boys already there) were OFFICIALLY ADOPTED and legally theirs! Of course, I read that email, jumped for joy, cried tears of gratitude, and shouted out loud in celebration. But that email? I never answered it.
I don't know, maybe I think that since I had such a giant celebration (in my head) she would somehow discern across the pond just how happy I was?

OR

My sister sent a wonderful set of new DVD's for Andrew's birthday last month. We did a happy dance in the living room together over his new Bob the Builder movie and shouted "thank you Aunt Mindy!" a hundred times. But did I tell her that they had arrived? Did I send a thank you email, or make a gratitude phone call? That would be a resounding no.

OR

There is the email that came in from my cousin about my nephew with important news. In my head I had a long conversation with Heather, expressing my empathy and discussing the possibilities for these little men in our lives with "problems". But the arrow indicator proving that I made a return response by email? Doesn't exist.

Repeat this story a thousand times over in the last several months and you will begin to get the picture of just how bad at this outside expression thing I am becoming.

I should do something about that. Out loud, I mean.

I have long held that people are the important things in life. The connections we build and sustain is, in my opinion, what creates a rich and wonderful life. Like nurturing a plant in the garden, relationships need care and attention. And yeah, sometimes space. I recognize that with too much attention a plant can suffer, drown even. So with that analogy I am banking on the idea that my family and friend relationships (which I have failed to nurture--outside of my head--of late) are as resilient as my orchid plant from last year's Mother's day (which, by the way, was a bare stick until last week):


Hold on my friends, a return response is coming. First though, I have to entertain those voices...