Friday, May 4, 2018

Hearing birds and geese, and the feel of spring air coming from the open window at 6:00AM. The rest of the day is certain to be dull in comparison. I thought with a doctors appointment looming mid day.  I stopped and bought flowers.

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There were so many lovely colors and patterns of small delicate flowers and something grey-green called, dusty miller, I think. I tried to stay within a range of white, green, a few purple and two splashes of red. Then I thought how nice it would be to have some cold white wine after gardening, but I was mindful of a goal I have had lately, to drink much less, so I opted for a rejuvenating facial mask to use while enjoying a hot bath, maybe not as exciting as chardonnay but its progress.

I awoke to a Wednesday, I awoke to spring. last year I said spring was a lie. This year spring seems like the opposite of a lie. Spring seems volatile; I also seem to be. It was just a day, and I feel like I made a few important decision mostly about the wine, but also at the doctors and picking out flowers.

Now its evening and I'm writing this with the window beside my bed still open. I hear all those evening sounds that belong in the woods as life struggles up beneath the still chilly earth...









Monday, April 23, 2018

I think it's spring finally. Little white flowers were on the forest floor. The season of all things made new. (every year). I have a million things to talk about Melissa!

Friday, April 6, 2018

I feel like winter has been extended just a little bit and I feel so blessed I was able to watch two more snowfalls when really it was the daffodils turn to shine. But they will still have their chance to bloom. Everything happens eventually. So maybe patience, maybe you do nothing, maybe let it all go and see who joins you...
Spring and Winter 

Friday, January 19, 2018

This week I attained the glorious age of 46 years. January cold takes my breath away momentarily when I venture out into the white cold. A lovely day to go to the license bureau to renew my drivers license, it's my birthday and it's cold and windy and snow is still on streets. Honestly it wasn't that bad out and winter is actually my favorite season but I keep that to myself most of the time, because not many people love January as much as me.

So, I get to the DMV and it's lovely and small inside and only one person is there and he is getting ready to leave. The lady behind the desk starts my process and the phone rings but she has that great ability to talk on the phone and still work with the person in front of her. And she laughed, she had the happiest laugh I've heard in a long time and that made me smile. She told me happy birthday of course and asked if I wanted to be an organ donor.

I know someone judgmental right now is wondering way I wasn't already one. I can only say that it is a fear of the unknown, of death, can I still feel? It's not like anyone can come back and say, "hey it really hurts still, for days and months after death." I also fear cremation even though it seems like the more logical solution to rid the earth of my corpse. I have books to read such as The Tibetan Book of The Dead, among some others that I mean to read to shed a little light on at least the beliefs of some concerning the afterlife.

Anyway, this is not some theological point, if thats even the right word, or anything. The point is this lady asked me a question concerning giving to another person something I was pretty sure I would not be needing but they could stay alive with it. A life, someone could have life, glorious life. I said yes. The unknown was still there, fear of pain still there, but I'm fine with it.

Sometimes God reminds me I hold on to tightly to my own skin, my own heart, my own house, my own things, even my own husband and children and place and purpose in this world. I should stop, it's selfish. It's all still mine,maybe a gift from God that can be taken away, but it is still mine to take care of and cherish and protect as long as it's in my possession. Maybe I can loosen my grip, even let go completely of some things I deem mine but maybe should not be. Let go. It could be a whole new gloriously attained life.






Friday, October 6, 2017

  I walked in damp woods picking up acorns and walnut shells, fallen leaves and twigs. I cut limbs with colored leaves off of trees. It's cloudy and misty outside as I collect Autumn and bring it all inside. I put acorns in a vase with the limbs hanging onto reddish leaves. I put a basket on it's side and fill it with leaves and twigs, walnut shells and more acorns.

It's all on my mantle now, a pumpkin spice candle waiting to be lit. Illuminate Autumn on my mantle.

In the evening I went to yoga with Wanda she asked me if I'd had a good day and I simply said yes, yes I did. I didn't explain that all I'd really done is take a walk in the misty forest and decorated my mantle, I don't know why I didn't share this. Sometimes maybe a day doesn't need to be explained but just enjoyed, just kept close to the heart. Because I can't explain to anyone what guides me sometimes on a day when I see a blank mantle and just know I need to fill it, brimming with beauty..

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

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Even now I hear You in the rain. The quiet gentleness,so strong, so smooth. Graceful.
Unseen, my soul feels You. The world around me fighting for my attention, it bids me come closer, be stronger, be and do all and everything. He reminds me, be humble, be weak, this is who you are.

I abandon my way, I am absconded and hidden from the world for a little while, until He renews me. The moment I rest so does He within me and it's a peace so indescribable. I am His temple, His Sabbath, His saint. He alone redeems me, but I must allow Him to make me holy.

The rain bears down, no longer soft like a whisper but rather strong. I am not the storm. God is not the storm, He is the still small voice afterwards. He bids me to come away, further and further from everything selfish, groveling,worldly. I am unburdened as I lay aside all that encroaches upon my freedom.

I've forgotten how free I really am. I'm reminded of a child laid out on the desert sand as a storm rolls in, thunder and rain pouring down, something unexpected where the sun perpetually shone...