Glass Ceilings

The sun catches cuts in the ceiling,
and I stop in my tracks
unable to move ahead or behind,
locked in an upward gaze.

My designated tool, 
a pick not an ax,
drops to the ground.
I stand still but restless
staring at the ceiling,
my design.

I squirm, and I twist,
but my feet stay planted,
and the volume raises,
then I hear,
 "Be still."

So I am for forever,
but really just for minutes,
and I spot a crack 
just right for my pick,
and a ladder pops in view,
so I climb,and I  chip
not stopping to 
look down
nor around,
not seeing what I found,
a golden ax on the ground.

The Pebble

The water shone with silver light;
my shadow edged an unknown lake
clasped a pebble
reddish, gray
then released and watched
it hit the sway
of murky water.

Circles danced from a tiny
stone spreading to edges
all unknown
lapping upon
a soft, dry shore
seeping in sand and grass and more.

My shadow turned to walk away
but paused and bowed
as if to say,
I humbly accept this pebble in hand
and the unknown depths
and shores and sands
that lap the water it spread this night.

Let it bring light.

My Mom Called the Game

It was one of those typical Florida afternoons when the sun had completed its work of heating the air to unbearable heights, opposing winds met from the East and the West, cloud tops piled into towers of purple gray and the first rumble of thunder could be heard getting closer and more ominous. I sat on hard bleachers with a group of anxious moms, watching my nine year old catcher and two teams of  players hold their positions on the soft ball field as two coaches stood face-to-face, locked in a time-out match; no one would budge. Neither coach wanted to call the tournament game. The teams were tied.

A bolt of lightening struck close by, and I just knew the coaches would give up their stand off and call the game. The short stop squealed with fright and Nikky, my tough catcher, looked up at the sky and then at me with fear in her eyes. She knew it was not a good situation at nine years old. Why wasn't anyone doing anything about it? I was afraid to sit in the stands any longer. How could I expect my daughter to stay on the field. I jumped up from my spot, went to the chain link gate, pushed it opened and walked out on the field to Nik and very quietly said, "Come on, Nikky, we're going home." She looked at her coach for his approval, but the coaches were not watching the girls. They were still in a heated debate. Other girls on the field started walking towards me, and other mom's left the bleachers and came through the gate to take their child off the dangerous field. The right fielder, coming in after the others, looked at Nik and asked, "What's going on?"  Nikky yelled back, " My mom just called the game!"

That's why I'm running for school board. I care about the players in the field, and I'm tired of bickering coaches who have taken their eyes off the kids.
Linda Oliverio

My Own "Secret"

June crawled into gear at the shop the same as last year, slowly. In June, school's dismissed and parent's minds are on vacation, daycare, graduation, weddings, summer survival, anything but motorcycles. Well, some minds might be on their bikes, but the dollars are designated elsewhere. The shop gets hot in  June and the air is heavy. When work gets slim, someone has to go home, and my techs are so good, they work it out between them fairly, but I hate to send anyone home. They need their jobs for everyday survival. I need a transition here, just as I needed a transition in my thoughts when the shop started dragging. Here it is:  so this is what I did.

I have a calendar on my desk that I write my major bills on each month on their due date with the words "Thank-you" over the bill. Amazingly, just the right amount of money or more comes in from Midtown repairs for each of those bills. I know that level of faith is established, and I have accepted it as a part of my relationship with Midtown and God. However, I have words in my head that send out a different message for June. I tell myself, "It's OK, it's always slow right after school lets out. It will pick up." It does every year. Do you see the flaw in that? I did, and changed my message. I wrote in the bottom corner of my calendar, "Best June ever!!!" I added a smiley face. I didn't write it lightly. I wrote it with conviction.

Then, as soon as I wrote it, dismal things started happening. Foot traffic stalled almost completely. A bike with an issue, just one month out of warranty came in, and I knew I had to compromise and work something out with the customer that would be fair to them and us. It was costly to us and required hours of unpaid labor, and the rain, not motorcycle friendly, began to fall daily. Instead of fretting, I believed the words on my calendar and I would ask my self, "Wow, how is this going to happen? I wonder how this will work? I wonder when it will come?" I did not let myself think anything but the truth I had established, it will happen. I didn't tell anyone but Bella Grace, my granddaughter, because she saw it on the calendar at the shop and asked what it meant, so I explained my thoughts to her. Business was slow, but it became a little more consistent by the end of the second week, in spite of the rain. By week three, the bikes started coming, and trailers pulled up, and calls were made for local tows, and my techs, as always, churned out job after job until yesterday, my last day of June at the shop, I sent them home with their paychecks, all bills paid, and I had "THE BEST JUNE EVER!"

I know it works, but I am baffled by the idea that I am still hesitant at times to call on that source.
My prayer for myself and all who read this today is this, "Father, increase our faith. Thank-you, Father. You are incredible!"

I need to take a picture of the calendar and share it, but it's at the shop, so I'll share another piece of God's remarkable work.

 

Good morning.

He said to his disciples, "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing.
 Luke 12:22

 

Peace. Love, Linda

 

The World We Live In

An interesting thing happened this morning. I received a call from a local realtor association. I'm not sure if we have more than one. They are canvasing local candidates, asking them to come in for a twenty minute interview to see who they would like to support in the upcoming election.  I gave the lady on the phone with a very nice voice the same message I've given every PAC that has emailed me to see if they want to support me, I told her, as I wrote to the other enquirers, that I would love their support, but I am not interested in their money. I would like their votes.

I'm not sure what happened. Somehow, the phone call ended very quickly when the lady on the phone with a very nice voice said thank you for my time and hung up. She sounded very kind. Now I am confused. When is my appointment? Don't they want to see if they would like to vote for me? Why would me not taking any financial assistance cause the phone call to come to a quick completion? Now do you see why I do not want to ask for money for my campaign?

This is the world we live in. It's a wonderful world, but it pays to be wise.

Peace, Love, Linda

The Miracle of the Stamps

I have a box of cards hand addressed and ready to ship out as it gets closer to the August 26th election date. Those cards need stamps. I'm running a campaign without asking for money for two reasons, one, taxpayers will be paying my salary as a board member. I think that's enough. Also, I have a deep seated concern over the influence of money on our political arena. And so, I am not asking for money for anything, including my stamps.

I'm watching carefully what I spend, and it will add up quickly if I'm not careful and discerning about expenditures. I know my competitors will have many signs and a much larger presence at events than I will, but I am confident of my qualifications. I am the best person for the job, and the teachers need a voice on the board that has experienced their work from many different levels from classroom teacher to resource teacher. I digress, back to the stamps. I've been thinking about the purchase of stamps for my cards and planning, next Monday on my day off, to make a deposit into my campaign account to cover the cost of stamps. At my "Meet and Greet" last Monday, some of my family members surprised me with checks. The amount will cover the cost of my stamps.

I am grateful for the gifts, and I want to thank each one of you who were a part of a small but very important miracle in my life, the miracle of the stamps.

It is a little slow at the shop this morning, and I am writing this quickly. I usually add a picture, so I will pull from what's on my work computer.

Mama would have called this "killing two birds with one stone".

It's Midtown Cycles, our techs are the best!

Peace. Love, Linda

Sunday Morning Blessing

For you, O god, have tested us; you have tried us as silver is tried. You brought us into the net; you laid burdens on our backs; you let people ride over our heads; we went through fire and through water; yet you have brought us out to a spacious place. 

Psalms 66: 10-12

 

 

 Peace. Love, Linda

Can We Look at This Differently?

Hello, everyone. I am mulling over the "money making" ventures my dear group of friends discussed for our District 5 School Board campaign.  I do not need ten BIG signs. I need one in front of Florida Decorating  on 192 and one in the front of our shop. I can handle that. I don't need to send out cards to absentee voters, even though it has worked very well for some. We can do absentee ballot, informational, follow up calls absolutely free. I will have enough cards going out in the mail when the time is right. I have feet to walk door to door on my Monday's off, and people have been very receptive to that so far. I can do that and will take any offers of help.

 

What I need is not money, it's votes. What I need is not financial donors, it's talkers.

 

Tonight, I realized I am not only running for a job on the school board I know I can do well, I am running for values I strongly believe in for campaigners, values that have become lost in a twisted campaign world of one dollar up. In order for my point to be valid, I do not need lots of financial donors, I need lots of votes.  We are taking our eyes off the ball by moving to a money focus. We need happy parties of people coming together to make decorative pledges promising to vote for me on Tuesday, August 26th. Prizes go to the best made pledges and to those who pledge to take someone to the polls with them.  It can be in the form of card games, scavenger hunts, wine and cheese parties, cookouts, whatever ( an aside, every time I type wine and cheese I type wind and cheese, first, then I have to correct it. lol ) . When someone signs a pledge, they give the party planner their phone number, text or email to follow up with reminders of their pledge, and they email or text back the minute they have voted.  Prizes and recognition could go to first voters, etc.

 

We all have our own circles of influence. Everyone who reads this, share it with your email friends and on Facebook. Ask your friends to share in this campaign. It will not just be my campaign, it will be OUR campaign. Everyone can help a good person get elected without it becoming a money contest.

 

My friends and family have been so incredibly helpful to me. I have reached the first part of this journey successfully because of all them and many of you, and I now have all of my signature cards completed. However, I have more to do to win this election. Will you help me with this? I am not asking for  money for me; I am asking for you to go out and play and have fun getting pledges for votes and voters to the polls, and stirring up a different kind of campaign that rejects the status quo. Wow! That looks somewhat cool in writing. I don't think I've ever written that expression, status quo.

 

 Let's get those talking parties going! I need your votes!!!!   Vote for Linda Oliverio,

August 26th. THANK YOU!



 

It's O.K. to see things differently.

Peace. Love, Linda

Honey Bees

The air was cool as we sped onto the East-West Expressway, wide open on a Sunday morning. The bike's low rumble followed us as we moved from the entrance ramp to a safe lane on the highway. Just then, a small, yellow bee smacked me in the arm, and stung me immediately. It then fell to my leg, dying, only to be whisked away by the wind for an impromptu funeral. I quickly tried to move my thoughts away from the sting because I had been enjoying the ride so much. A spring, Sunday morning on  an empty freeway is a wonderful place to be on the back of a motorcycle.

I started thinking about bees and why they sting. They sting, most often, when they perceive a threat to their colony. They have a sophisticated social order and the royal bees and males, don't sting. The female workers sting. ( I looked this up out of curiosity but did not spend much time studying it. If I have stated anything not factual, just know, it's close, and as someone said at some time, "It's the thought that counts.") When the bee stings, it literally stings it guts out. Nice. Then it dies.

I started thinking that I should write about bees, but I spent the day hauling bags of mulch and giving my plants some much needed attention, and the thought got away from me.  This morning, I was getting ready to go to the election office to turn in signatures, when I saw something on my living room floor. It was a dying bee. That's when I curtailed going out the door, came to the computer, and started to write about the bee. I really don't have an ending to this tale except that through it all, bees started reminding me as being tremendously like humans. However, their actions are very instinctual.
We have fully developed brains.

A Model Prayer

When I think of a model prayer, I think of "The Lord's Prayer, " beautiful in simplicity, it encapsulates all of life's basic requests into one brief passage. It reminds me of my brother-in-law, Conrad, no longer with us, who sang that prayer so melodically. It brings back memories of unison repetitions during church services and my niece, Jill, who always cried at the sound of the prayer as it was sung, sometimes to the point of necessary removal from the premises. I love that prayer Jesus taught us, but centuries before Jesus came to earth to enlighten us of a "new" and more potent relationship with God that was readily available within us, David, in the Psalms, was the king of model prayers.

This morning I was reading my Bible, seeking Sunday wisdom, when the book fell open to page 849.
The words on the page were underlined and my notes, written years past, filled in the gaps and spaces on the page. At the top of Psalm 54, I had written, "Model prayer for help." David's Psalms baffle me with his pleas for vindication and calls for revenge, but after reading How to Know God
by Deepak Chopra, I have a more comfortable acceptance of the fact that people "know" God from where they are in time, their perspectives and levels of enlightenment. It explains much and with the understanding I gleaned from that book, I feel less of a desire to judge and more a desire to love and accept people as products of their life stories, but I digress, back to the model prayer, Psalm 54. I'm writing it as paragraphs, not individual verses.

Paragraph 1: Save me, O God, by your name, and vindicate me by your might. Hear my prayer, O God, give ear to the words of my mouth.

David, if you read the stories of his life in the Old Testament, was the archetype of mankind. His life was filled with drama and struggle as well as joy and grace. He reached peaks of power and fell into pits of despair. He was human in every way, but he loved God, and evident by his portrayed life, God loved David, just as he loves us, with mercy upon mercy. In this first paragraph, we know David is once again up against an enemy, and he knows, without a doubt, he cannot handle it alone. He calls upon God for help, the opening of the prayer.

Paragraph 2:  For the insolent have risen against me, the ruthless seek my life, they do not set God before them.

David sets before God the reason for his request made as a simple, clear- cut statement. Notice David is not begging. He comes before God with confidence and purpose, seeking God to save him.

Paragraph 3:  But surely, God is my helper; the Lord is the upholder of my life. He will repay my enemies for their evil. In your faithfulness, put an end to them.

David, in this paragraph, doesn't need to remind God of His faithfulness; David is reminding himself of God's faithfulness. By just stating those words aloud, David is taking charge of his emotions and turning his own despair into faith, which lifts him to a higher level of thinking and out of survival mode, putting him into a place where solutions lie and emotional comfort resides. "Put an end to them" does not necessarily mean death, but often does in humanity's desperate addiction to solving problems with war.  When mankind truly reaches the levels of enlightenment that Jesus offered, "Put an end" will become just that. The behavior stops, and all move forward to a place of peace. David, once again reminds himself of God's immediate presence as helper and states a simple request to end the conflict.

Paragraph 4:  With a freewill offering I will sacrifice to you:  I will give thanks to your name, O Lord, for it is good. For he has delivered me from every trouble, and my eye has looked in triumph on my enemies.

Finally, David puts forth a confident vow of thanksgiving, knowing his prayers are already answered. He mentally reaches into his memory and pulls out the triumphs achieved due to God's work in his life. He praises God by being thankful, once again lifting his emotional levels of despair out of survival mode and into thoughts of praise and thanksgiving which emanate from the frontal lobes of the brain, the part of the brain the we access for our highest levels of thinking, and, not coincidentally, the place that lights up when we are in deep spiritual connection with God. David's prayers are as much a practice in mental thought control as well as a conversation with God. Then, in simple terms, David's prayer closes with, I have asked; it is done; thank you God. Jesus said it in much the same way, "Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us." He asks for deliverance from evil and ends with a soul felt heart of praise and thanksgiving, a proclamation of faith, as he says, "For Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever! Amen"

Peace. Love, Linda

 

Why Am I Running for School Board?

In the situation I have placed myself, I am asked why I am running for school board, and I must have a sound and honest answer. To get that answer, I had to ask myself the same question. I felt compelled to run for the position, and so I did, but as for looking at myself for the deeper reasons, I think I left that task undone until this morning. In a moment of quietness, I asked myself the question others ask me.  I feel more reassurance with my decision after the answer came to me why I am running for school board. I want to bring to our local place of education and commerce, resolutions, not conflict.

When I left the district, I left in conflict. I wrote an email about our students writing initiative that contradicted the goals and mission of the superintendent at that time. I was operating from a place of misunderstanding. I misunderstood my role had changed when the guard had changed, and my opinions were no longer of importance. Because of my misunderstanding, I pushed for what I believed was best for the students as I had always been allowed to do under the previous administration. I thought wholeheartedly that was my responsibility, but unknown to me, my responsibility had changed from vocal leader to quiet follower. Hence, the district misunderstood me because they could not accept that my personal convictions could possibly reach a point where they were more important than their goals and missions. Conformity of thought, purpose, and ideas were a necessity within the framework of their operation. I did not fit that mold. After fifteen years in the county, I was stripped of my position and ostracized.  I left in conflict.

I now approach the possibility of working in the planning, implementing, and procedures of the school system with a renewal of the passion I feel for public education and our students and with a sense of resolution. Often in the politics of the industry, states and districts do not make the best decisions for our students. In the politics of "team", we sometimes deny truth, and yet, I believe in the power of a constructive team. I believe in the power of public education to help keep our democracy strong and raise up students from every color, creed and walk of life to be powerful, enterprising, creative individuals who think for themselves so they, too, can bring to their "teams" more resolutions and less conflict.

I am running for Osceola County School Board, District 5, to bring to our local place of education and commerce, thoughtful resolutions to whatever may arise while I hold the title of school board member. I am well groomed in both education and business, and life has given me every skill I need to do the job at hand with competence. I will bring to that place of conversation and debate a voice that will strive heartedly to bring far more resolutions to the table with a personal goal of creating less conflict. If you read down to this last line, I thank you, and I ask you to vote for me August 26, 2014, for Osceola County School Board, District 5. Check out my resume at www.lindaoliverio.com. Read both pages for the full picture of my experience. Also, share this with a friend. Thank you.

Peace. Linda Oliverio

 

Making Soup

My sister-in-law, Kim, once told us about a phrase to use when making an excuse. Just say, "I am making soup."  After all, one excuse is as good as another. Since that day, and I don't even remember when that was or if I was present or if it was a joke or if one of my sisters passed it on to me, that phrase comes up occasionally in a conversation with the understanding that it's being used in place of an excuse.
"Why didn't you come over yesterday when everyone was at Sally's?"
"I was making soup."
"Oh."

It's a very good phrase in many ways. It stops a person in the tracks of a winding conversation going nowhere and moves everyone forward on the present train of thought without causing pain, boredom, or rancor. Rancor, I just never get to use that word, and it seems to fit. It sounds harsh, doesn't it? Well, I'm leaving it. I may never get to use it again. Although, I am running for school board, and that word may come in handy in my future, but I'm hoping not.

I just pulled everything together for my tax visit in the morning, and I cleaned the house, mowed the grass, edged the yard, and folded the last load of clothes for the weekend. I should probably let myself slow down a bit now. It is a "day of rest." However, I've done everything but the rest part. I think that's why I sat down at the computer and opened up "Dear Friends."  It slows me down a bit and opens up a world of possibilities that spill out onto the paper and end up as what is commonly called a "blog."

So let me wander a bit. It has been a very busy January, and February is already upon us. Today the groundhog saw his shadow, and the good people of "P-town" (no way will I attempt to spell that word) are cringing at the thought of six more weeks of winter as we languish in beautiful 80 degree temperatures. Some things in life are just not fair, but I am so thankful to live in Florida today, and I am thankful for this computer, and I am thankful for my family, friends, business, and the mini donuts on the kitchen counter. Life is good, and I am not going to do one more lick of work on anything today. I couldn't possibly anyway. I'm busy. What am I doing, you ask? I'm making soup.

Hey, I smell soup. Do you smell soup?

 

Peace. Love, Linda

I'd like a Job Application, Please.

Yesterday was a busy Saturday at the shop, but things slowed down a bit around 1:00 P.M., when an old school mate came in for a part and noticed the sign on my desk. It's an announcement and request indicating I am running for school board for District 5, and if you belong to that district, would you sign one of my petitions. He read the sign and asked me, "Why do you want to get into politics?" I said, "I don't want to get into politics. I want that job." I don't remember his reply verbatim, but he indicated that I must want to get into politics because I am running for an elected position. Hmmm....

I think that simple conversation pulled a root of a national problem out of the ground and sat it on my desk. The problem for me is this, I don't want to be a politician. I want to be a member of the Osceola District School Board so I can use my exceptional mix of educational and business talents to help move our district forward,successfully. When that happens everyone wins. The most valuable piece to the educational puzzle is a well-trained, highly motivated, greatly appreciated teacher who turns out well-trained, highly motivated students. They grow up into well-trained, highly motivated adults, and you can see that wheel going round and round, and I go back to the first sentence of this paragraph. Hmmm...

I am applying for a job, just as so many of our "politicians" do, so what separates the "politicians" from the job applicants? I think the answer comes  down to intentions. I am running for school board because it feels right. It's a place I have landed after many twists and turns that have given me an exceptional background for the job, and I know without a doubt, I value greatly what happens to the students of Osceola County and our country. I long for them to become brave and strong and thoughtful and productive adults.  When that happens, maybe they will answer the question about politics and applicants with a whole new remarkable way of living together in peace and proficiency.
Maybe the word "politician" will no longer be used, just "applicant." I like the sound of that better.
I'd like a job application please, and if you would like to check out my resume, which I believe you should, go to www.lindaoliverio.com.  Thanks!

 Peace. Love, Linda

Nuances

One day slides into another, and I erase a number on my wipe away calendar. Soon a year has ended, and a new year begins. Midtown Cycles is now painted a lovely tan which was eventful to Darren and me, but some people walk into the shop and don't notice it is no longer blue. It seems a big enough building to us, but I think now that the whole painting event was just another nuance.

Darren and I went to visit his mom and dad at Sonata, yesterday. His mom seemed a bit more slowed down and his dad's deep, rumbly cough seemed slightly deeper.  He still greeted Darren with expressions and tears that showed recognition of someone who cares for him, and he smiled at my kiss on his forehead. It was a similar visit, but something felt as if a home for the elderly makes those living there feel a little bit too old. Something slipped since our last visit of only a week ago it seems, if just slightly.

I heard on the news this morning, a quick blip, that said today is the "most depressing day of the year." I don't know why, but just typing that makes me smile. I don't mean to be unkind.  I know people are looking at bills from the holidays, clearing out the Christmas mess, taking down the lights, and going back to work they may not care about or school they don't like. Maybe it's so depressing because it's January, cold and gray. Maybe it's because so many people worked so hard to make everything so perfect for awhile, and when the last bow is tossed in the trash or smashed into a box and placed in the closet, imperfection slipped in leaving room for a pause that moved into a longer pause that almost became a reflection which could have moved into a sigh or a prayer or a meditation, but that would be revealing, and it's time to get back on the treadmill. Oh, that is depressing.

I'm baking brownies to fill the room with chocolate, lighting my new lavender candle, and putting freshly chopped oak on the fire place. It's going to be cold in the shop tomorrow, so I better wash my black sweat shirt and remember to layer up. After all, tomorrow is another day. It's the first day after "the most depressing day of the year." It can only go up from there, so be happy. Things are looking up...after 12 midnight.

Peace. Love, Linda