Pursuit

Sometimes I have clarity.  I clearly see my dream.  Then I look down to check the path for trip hazards and when I look back up, the dream has become shrouded again.

I will continue to seek the path to my dream.  To do otherwise is self-betrayal.  To be true to myself.  That is a big part of it.  To know myself and not compromise my own identity and values to conform or get by.

It is very hard for me.  My personality is to be pliant and submissive.  I laugh as I write that.  I haven’t always been such.  I used to argue at the drop of a hat with anyone about anything.

In trying to become the kind of wife I want to be, I have given up some things I shouldn’t have let go.  He doesn’t press for anything.  It has been my own quest to change and become the partner I believe he deserves.  But, in doing so, I have retreated too far with some things.

I don’t reach for things if I am not able to get them on my own.  If I will need help, I usually simply forfeit.  I short myself when I should be letting him and others close enough to help.  I may have just hit upon the key.

Letting someone help means being vulnerable.  I have too often equated vulnerability with weakness.  I don’t think of that with others, just with myself. I measure myself with a totally different set of standards.  I love to help others.  I don’t allow myself to need help.

Perhaps for 2016, I will let go of my self-imposed restrictions and allow myself to ask for help.  Ask for support.  Let others love me.

It is the only way to fulfill my dreams. I will not be able to do what I want to do without his support and his help.  He always encourages me to take the next step.  I am the one standing on the same step day after day.

That is not entirely true.  If I look back, I see how far I have come.  And I do see the next step.  Just muster the wherewithal to climb up one more.  After I get that one done, I can work on the next.  One step.  And another after that.  The dream is there, up ahead.

I am enjoying the challenge of the climb.  That ever ascending path.  That shrouded dream.  The faith to keep on the chase.  A good way to live.  Seeking the dream and yet not losing the joy of the pursuit.  A delicate balance.  Like the blossom of the orchid.

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Raining Orchids

What does “Raining Orchids” mean?

I love orchids.  I haven’t been successful growing orchids, yet.  But, I love them none the less. 

In my mind, the orchid is the true queen of flowers.  Delicate, long lasting, fragrant, exotic.  Less common than roses.  Very desirable and lovely. 

The idea of orchids relating to life was inspired by Marjorie Hillis’ 1937 book:  Orchids On Your Budget.  She explains the balance of budgeting for the happier things in life such as hosting parties and enjoying entertainments among other things.  She also touches on the idea of making do and being truly happy about it. 

If you are familiar with the phrase “raining cats and dogs”, translate that image to “raining orchids”.  Orchids rain onto my life.  Not in the sense of endless loveliness and happiness, but of blessings sometimes outright and sometimes disguised by difficulty. 

This past weekend, I got to visit with my loved ones.  I was able to cook copious amounts of food to serve them.  I had some time with friends.  We remembered the Easter promises.  Yet, I thought about my mother, gone 16 years, yesterday.  How much I miss her in so many ways. My heart aches for her and so many others gone. 

But, my heart rejoices in the company of my great nieces!  Age three and age 2 months, they bring a kind of joy only little ones can.  And yes, I still get a thrill to see my adult children.  Three of the most wonderful people on the planet.  Period.  And then there is him.  He guards me, supports me, brings orchids into my life every day.

So many orchids in my life!  People and circumstances that create endless love, happiness, and blessings, both outright and disguised. 

Despite the books on growing them, I have lost the live orchids I had.  These silk orchids on one of my treasure tables will have to do until I figure out how to grow the real things.  Meanwhile, I will revel in the symbolic orchids raining throughout my life.  Him, family, friends, a table of plenty, a Risen Savior. 

 

 

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P.S.  65 is the year I was born.  I am too glad to be alive to worry about anyone knowing my true age!