Happy 2018!

Happy New Year!!!

Has another Christmas leaped through my life?  How fast it went!  I have started this year full of optimism.  Unusual for me to be in this place at this time of the year.  The darkness of the winter days hasn’t overtaken my mood.

Perhaps, it won’t do so at all this year.  I have been resigned to coping with the low moods all my adult life.  And yet there is always a part of me that believes it doesn’t have to be so.  If I claim I have a choice in how I feel and how I behave, then I must believe it and so prove it to myself.

I don’t have any resolutions for this year.  I have my continuing path of proving myself able to be better at each turn.

One thing I once believed has changed.  I used to believe I was strong and able to withstand pain.  I failed at withstanding. I became crushed in so many places.  Then, I believed I could never heal.  After a while, I decided I could heal, but the crushed places would ever be fragile.  Time never made a difference in the process.  Just lately, over the past year or two, I discovered something has been healing my broken places.  Love.  Just love.  Several girls have come into my life over the past few years.  First, my brother’s granddaughters brought a window of hope. Now, my own granddaughters have broken down walls.

I think about my own grandmothers.  I remember how important they are to me even now so many years after they left this life.  My aunts continue to impact my life.  If I can matter to any of these girls half as much as those women matter to me, I will be loved more than I deserve.

I wonder how things will be between all these little girls as we grow to know each other. And I look so very forward to the love that grows between us.

Happy 2018!  Happy Life! Happy Love!

P.S.  He continues to lift me up to Him.  His continued prayers for me and support of my off-beat self has no doubt had a larger impact on my current state of being than I will know in this life.  My love always loves me.  And besides………..he needs my love to keep him warm!

sky and snow

Orchiding

He came in from fishing and over supper asked if I had been “orchiding”.  I was puzzled for a moment.  Then, I remembered that is what he has dubbed my pursuit of personal growth and creativity.  He asked if I had painted and I replied no.  I was still feeling stalled.  I reflected on my day.  I made some discoveries.

What had I done all day?  I cried some.  I wrote down some questions.  I identified some of the myths I believe.  For me they are truths right now, but I want to strike down the myths because they are harmful rather than examples for which to aspire.  Remember that whatever one believes is the truth for them.

I had also spent time scrubbing the stove top.  It was long overdue.  Yes.  Even cleaning house can be considered “orchiding” when it relieves my tension and improves my immediate environment.

I rearranged the clothes in my closet in anticipation of warmer weather.  I recently explained to a friend that I no longer complain about the weather.  The weather is the business of God.  Who am I to complain about His business?  But, I still must prepare to dress for it.  I have tried to get my clothes situated to make easier dressing.  I wear jeans and boots or sandals to work.  I have collected men’s shirts from a resale shop that I enjoy wearing.  I like to add scarves and necklaces to soften my appearance.  Getting ready for spring counts for me, too, as “orchiding”.

I ironed embroidery stencils onto two of those shirts.

I worked out the next part of my flower trio paintings.  I figured out the next step, but I have not yet applied the paint.

I stopped at the cemetery and captured some images of the camellia and its blooms.

So, the answer is yes.  I did do some “orchiding”.  It is not always just about being at the easel or desk working directly on arts and crafts.  It is also taking time to think and to feel and to dream.   I will continually need to remind myself of this.  I appreciate his asking the question.

One of my favorite things:

This is the gravesite of my great grandparents.  Her name was Camilla.  Hence, the camellia over her resting place.