Believing in Faith...

Some days it seems my body is much older than it's actual physical age. I've discovered that chemotherapy and radiation truly altered and affected my body and I am constantly reminded of this.  Never mistake that I regret this for I do not.  I am grateful each and every day for every chemical, every toxin and every bolt of radioactive material that was surging throughout my body.  I am here am I not?  That is really all that matters to me.

I notice the effects of the radiation every time I step out of a vehicle and close the door.  As soon as I touch the metal I get a shock.  That never happened to me before radiation so I believe that there has been a chemical change in my system. There are times I just close the door and wait for the "zap" and there I times when I try to outwit it and hope I won't feel it.  I never manage it.  And of course there are times when I touch other people and they get a shock which I feel as well...it's like a kinetic connection.  It gives true meaning to my "spark"ling personality!

I notice how my joints and muscles have changed over the last almost 6 years.  Arthritis has come to roost and while I was a likely candidate for that given that it is hereditary, I do believe that the onset for me started earlier than it might otherwise have done.

On a damp, rainy, wet spring day like we're having today I notice the motor needs a little longer to rev before I move about and that my steps are a little slower and my body aches and feels sluggish.  And do you know, I smile anyway?  Because why wouldn't I?  And on a day like this one I know that it means finding quiet activities and pampering myself and taking it that bit more slowly and doing some soul work to remember how good life is and how blessed I am.  I think of it as storing energy for tomorrow when the sun might be shining and I have that extra bounce back in my step.

Last night I was reading Jeanne Oliver's blog and this post made me smile from within.  Her story and her words struck a chord in my soul and reminded me that when we have faith, when we believe and when we trust in that faith, fear recedes into the dark place and no longer clouds our vision.  It is why I will be able to take today and do with it what I will and smile up at the grey, dull skies and know that I am right where I need to be, at this moment, and that everything I have gone through up to this point in my life has been a gift of faith and of believing.

When was the last time you prayed and you believed in your faith without allowing fear to dominate your truest self?

Character...

Doing the right thing at the right time is something we all hope we are capable of.  And if I think about any given day I know that there are many moments when there is the opportunity to step up to the plate and just be that person, the one who can do, who can say or who can show.  Sometimes, like yesterday, they are small, simple little things.  I was waiting in the lab to give blood for my cholesterol testing.  It was early in the morning and quite a few other people had the same idea.  Arrive when the lab opens so that eating and getting that first cup of coffee could be had sooner, than later.  The lab was busy enough but they had instituted a new policy of taking a number and then registering when your number was called.  One technician was working and she had at least 15 people waiting before 9:00 a.m. and not all of them were there simply for blood.

As each new person walked into the room this young woman had to repeatedly tell people to please take a number, have a seat and she would call them in turn.  This was done as she was running back and forth between examining rooms and taking blood samples into another room to be collected later in the day.  Sometimes she didn't see them right away and they would stand there waiting to be seen by her to register.  I watched all of us who were sitting around the room, watching as a new person would enter.  For the first few times it happened I waited to see what the others would do.  Would anyone speak up and let these newcomers know the procedure?  No one did.  Everyone just sat there watching.  Until I finally did it myself, explaining the procedure as soon as the next person walked up to the counter.  Did it cost me anything?  No.  Was I embarrassing myself or making myself look foolish?  No.  I was simply doing a kindness, that I would hope someone else would do for me.  Each person I spoke to was grateful, smiled and said thank you to me.

When it was my turn and I went into the examining room, I dropped something from my pocket without realizing it, until the woman who had been sitting two seats over from me, not the person sitting on either side of me, but the woman at the end of the row, noticed it and brought it in to me.  I smiled and thanked her for noticing and for bringing it to me.  And after she left I smiled and looked up at the heavens and said "it works."

I had been planning to talk about this subject today and it was reinforced for me even more when I watched this video clip that had been posted on facebook by a friend of mine.  This is character.  This is what we hope we have taught our children.  This is all it takes.  One person who says "I can do this" and opens her mouth to say so.

For many years, throughout the sporting lives of my sons, we have talked and talked about what can be learned from their experiences.  There is sportsmanship and commitment.  There is winning and losing both done with grace.  There is personal goal setting and championing yourself.  And there is life.  Sports can teach our children so much about life.  The parents of these young girls must have been, and must continue to be so proud of the young women they have raised.

Repose...

Some days, when the night before has been all about very little sleep, it's nice to take the afternoon and just rest.  To sit with the feet up and the eyes closed.  To be in "repose".  To dream a little and if the eyes must close, for even a few minutes, that's quite all right.  Just enough to gather thoughts together and feel pulled together without stumbling and bumbling about.

 Hot tea in a pretty mug soothes and relaxes and allows me to breathe just that little bit deeper.  Ready to say, "what's next?"

Feel It In My Fingers...

I love this song....and then I think about the words..."feel it in my fingers, feel it in my toes"...and it makes me think of spring...I do feel it in my fingers and in my toes.

And I wanted spring on my fingers and on my toes...so I chose my Joe Fresh nail colour in Fig for my fingers and my Ocean Breeze from L'Oreal for my toes...

What do you find yourself doing when thoughts of spring arise?

Remember This...

Black You Say...Really?

With spring comes that overwhelming feeling and urge to change.  I seem to want things to sparkle and be fresh and I look at what around me has grown "tired" and dated.  I decide what needs colour, or maybe in one particular case, "no colour".

I love working with colour, looking at paint chips and fabric swatches and pulling things together.  This isn't new for me, this goes back to my childhood when we were allowed to choose the paint colour of our bedrooms.  One difficulty of sharing a bedroom with my sister was coming to an agreement on what we wanted, although there was one year we very nearly painted the room in two colours; my choice on one side, her choice on the other.  Reason prevailed and we compromised.  Then there was the year I wanted to paint the room vibrant orange, like the orange used in hazard vests.  No one was quite keen on that idea.  But I had seen it on the paint chips my father had (he was a paint salesman and worked in the industry for most of his life) and I thought how cool that would be.  I was 14 at the time.  That and a black ceiling would really have rocked, though my mother did wonder how we would sleep with all that "bright" colour.  All I could think about was the incredible dreams we might have.  It was also a "no" on the black ceiling.

Nine years ago I painted one wall in the dining room a gorgeous shade of red.  I had seen it done in a magazine and I was thoroughly taken with the idea and immediately set out to do that in my house.  I still love that red wall.  It's the other walls in the open plan living room/dining room that need refreshing.  At the moment they are dijon yellow which looks different in both daylight and lamp light.

One of my best friends painted her kitchen wall a different shade of red and with all the white and black she has in that room it looks stunning.  She then took her pine china cabinet and painted it black and the room looks transformed.  I had been thinking I would paint my white china cabinet black and go for the same effect but hadn't quite had the courage to paint the cabinet.

Last week I was browsing blogs and came across a dining room that is being painted black.  Black walls!!  It seemed so daring and unique and while it might be something that is done often, it really never occurred to me to paint a wall black.  I have a lot of white in my dining room -- table, chairs and china cabinet.  The sheers in that room are white...so a black wall...oh yes, I'm very much wanting a black wall.  I'll change out the other walls to a butter cream or something in that family and see how I like it and if I can live with it.

The joy of paint is that it need never be permanent and while black is the absence of colour, I think how striking that room will be -- and I'm happier testing the paint on the wall than on a piece of furniture!!

Getting Out of My Own Way

 

 (image from travelpod.com)

When I want to create something I usually have no difficulty in sitting down and doing the work.  I'm happy to play and inspire myself with whatever idea has popped into my head.  Sometimes I don't even have to think about it, my hands just do the work from some message my creativity is sending to them.

What troubles me so is the "other" times.  The times when I want to fulfill a dream or to see something that I would very much love to do come to fruition.  The plan is there and the dream is alive and yet I'm getting nowhere fast, like sitting on a stationary bike, spinning those wheels and getting nowhere...slowly. 

I'm not sure "why" I allow myself to "stop", or why I get in my own way with self imposed obstacles.  This is something I've done for as long as I can remember.  It might be a fear of success, or that I'm afraid I'm not "good enough" and don't want to learn that.  Maybe I'd like to be spectacular in my own mind but don't want to be told otherwise.

Some of that is old, learned behaviour.  It's so old it's faded and cracked and worn to a nub, and yet I still haul it out when I find myself ready to step out of the shadows and put myself into the spotlight.  I've worked hard at laying those old ghosts to rest so I'm extremely puzzled as to why over the last months, one by one I've added another obstacle to that road block to the point that I can't go straight ahead to pass through.

I think the fact that I'm aware of what I'm doing is a good thing.  It's a step in the right direction...and it means I need to reconfigure how I'm getting around that...how I am going to get out of my own way in order to accomplish those dreams I've been allowing to stagnate.

It's Been a Good Day To....

 

Today has been about experimenting and exploring.

About taking photographs and playing with the camera and different textures.

 

It's been about colour and finding it in expected and unexpected places.

It's been about making a commitment to myself, one that I have put off making but feel much more empowered because I've done so.

Rainy Day Feelings

 
Raining off and on all day, and it's foggy down here by the lake.   The sky looks like it's disappeared behind a layer of low lying dryer lint.  Possibility of snow tomorrow or the next day.  And that's "okay".  I really don't mind spring rain or even a spring snow fall, because you see, I know it won't last.  I know that whatever snow might fall is just a last little dribble, that last little bit that needs to be squeezed from the sky.  And those rain drops?  They'll be good for the garden and the earth as a whole.  We need the rain.  And there is still that part of me that feels like a child, that innocent euphoric feeling comes over me where I want to step in the puddles and drive my car through the puddles and watch the water "whoosh" as I sail through.  Life's simple pleasures that are amazing treasures.

While I was poking through the garden I came across these little buds...which will hopefully continue to grow and sprout and become daffodils.   Sometimes they don't flower...they simply grow green stalks.  But every spring I watch them and every spring I will them and encourage them to become all that they are meant to be.

I see reminders of the seasons past...bits of leaves that were missed in the final clean up before the snow, and a maple bud that has disintegrated over the harshness of the winter.  But I see green, some green that is poking through which will sooner than I realize it, dominate all that brown.  It's hope I see.  A visual reminder that while things may look bleak, there is hope of renewal and possibility.

I love to watch the changes in the garden as the weeks progress.  I feel elated when I see buds on the trees that will soon turn to leaf and every year, since childhood, when I first began this yearly routine, those leaves appear magically, overnight. I am always in awe when it has happened, just a pure, fresh joy.  I hope I'll catch them as they unfurl but I believe it is one of life's mysteries, one that we are not meant to see happen.  But I wait and watch regardless, because you never know when you might be given entry in that magical moment.

A rainy day brings me so much joy and there are so many things to do, but first I need to go and find a puddle or two.

Spring

My favourite season.

(image from google.com)

It's about birth and renewal.  It's about putting away my boots that I love but being able to wear great shoes and sandals and flip flops.

It's about freshness and cleaning out the cobwebs...from the corners in my house and the corners of my brain...to feel energized and hopeful and filled with promise.

It's about change and possibility.  Feeling that anything is possible and having the desire and motivation to make something happen.

(collage available for purchase at Bella Rennie)

It's about going from drab to fab...to pastels and colours.

It's what life is all about.

You Can Even If You Think You Can't

Over the course of the past few months we have spent our time in this family working through the difficulty of helping my very elderly mother-in-law make the move from her own home to a retirement residence.  It was time in so many ways and she is blessed in even more ways.  To achieve the life and the years that she has and to have most of her hearing, all of her vision, all of her mental faculties in brilliant working order and no illnesses or diseases to cope with, that is a blessing indeed.

While there were many hills to climb with this life change and perhaps a few more before we are done, there was also a lot of understanding and compassion in realizing how difficult change can be as we age.  There were lessons to learn for my husband, for me and for our children.

 (image found on google.com)

Throughout all of this there was one phrase that was repeated by my mother-in-law many, many times and I realized just how frustrated I become when I hear it.  It matters not the age of the person saying it. To say "I can't" and to expect others to believe that is disheartening.  It is also one of the phrases that brings my patience to a quick boil. 

I realize that there are times when saying "I can't" is the absolute truth.  Those times when we are excusing ourselves from something that it is impossible to do, no matter how much we might want to or wish we could.  Being able to say "I cannot do that" is often for our own good.

However, when someone chooses to say "I can't" when in fact they mean "I won't" or "I'm not going to try", I'm not the person you want to say that to.  I'm not the person who is going to sit back and say "oh well then, that's fine, if you can't, you can't."  I see that as choosing to cop out, as looking for a fast out and an easy excuse to not challenge yourself or to be the best person you can be for yourself.  It is an admission of defeat without even making an attempt.  It saddens me when I hear it.  And yes, I'm the person who is very much going to say "oh but you can."  And I realize that it is not always appreciated when I do so.  I do know though, however, that we all need support and we all need someone to have our best interests at heart, and I'm okay with not being appreciated for being the motivator and the encourager.

"Whether you think you can or you think you can't, you're always 100% right."
Greg Hickman

There are so many instances when we can choose to do something or choose not to.  To accept defeat before beginning by saying "I can't" seems so futile to me.  I loved reading "The Little Engine That Could" to my children when they were young.  I've always loved that story of perseverance and a coming to believe that if you want to deeply enough and you have encouragement and support along the way, "I can't" becomes "I did".

Daydreaming

Most people will be talking about St. Patrick's Day today, or wearing green, perhaps even talking about or partaking of green beer.  I'm not most people (and who among us is) so there will be no homage to the Patron Saint named Patrick paid here today...just me, talking about something other than what is "expected".

Daydreaming by Sherry Smyth

I'm sharing my art today.  If you look closely you will find no green...browns, sepias and tones of orange, but not a drop of green.

Over the last year I started playing with Photoshop Elements 8.  I took an online course at Creative Workshops (highly recommended for those new to working with photoshop) and began to play around with my own photographs as well as using other graphics to create digital collage.  I'm still quite enslaved to creating collage "the old fashioned way" with paper, scissors and glues, but there is something additionally challenging to the creative process when you can put it together at the computer.  If you are interested in working with photoshop but not quite ready for an online course, artist Susan Tuttle's book, "Digital Expressions" is also very helpful (it is also compatible with Adobe for Mac).

The above piece is my latest work and one that I am very pleased with.  It's all about day dreaming.  Something I used to be very good at.  Something I want to spend a little more time indulging in.

If you wish to purchase this piece you can find it here

When in Rome...

I've been talking this week with my best sister girl about her daughter's recent trip to Rome.  Oh my how that took me back...my first trip away from home, on my own with no family...a high school trip when I was 16 1/2.  Traveling with some friends and some other students from my school that I didn't know..15 of us in all, girls and boys, none over the age of 18. Plus one teacher who was 23 or 24.  Quite the 9 days away!  It was this time all those years ago, this week of March Break school holiday that was the adventure of my lifetime.  It introduced me to myself.  The adult that I was on the verge of being.

I fell in love with Italy, the parts of it that I saw.  We were based in Rome and did just about all of our touring on foot.  Did take the bus once where I was groped by an older gentleman.  The teacher (a male!) told me I should be "flattered" as it was the Italian way.  Sorry, not in my book.  I managed to place my foot on the top of the tenderest part of his and pressed down hard.  Trust me, he moved away and thankfully we had reached our destination!

I couldn't tell you about the food...we ate, we drank wine.  Oh my did we drink wine.  And a love affair was born.  It wasn't about the food.  It was about the place, the architecture, the history, the ambiance, and the boys.  Certainly there was a boy who had taken my fancy and that week away was like an idyll.  To be in Rome and to be in love...it's not a cliche!  Did I throw a coin in the Trevi Fountain?  Most indeed I did.  Sadly, I have not returned.  Yet. 

(original photograph property of wz photography and can be purchased here)

I fell in love with the Churches and St. Peter's Basilica. I had left my own Church by this time, but I remembered the goodness of faith and spirit and knew that no matter where my life took me, this was still a very deep part of who I am.  Devoting myself to God and becoming a Nun didn't seem a very far fetched idea at all.  That boy I spoke of -- he was less than impressed with the idea!! 

(original photograph property of Mariposas and can be purchased here)

I fell in love with Michelangelo.  His art is incredibly and deeply moving.  Once you have seen the Sistine Chapel you are never the same.  You can barely imagine a young man painting that, on his back and the length of time it took him to complete.

  (image from google.com)

The Pieta.  A statue that pulls you in with it's power, strength and magnificence.

(image found on google.com)

I was in awe during our trip to Pompeii.  My first experience with what can happen when nature and the earth prove their vast power.  We cry and we weep when we hear of natural disasters in our lifetime and I am reminded that these have been happening since the beginning of time.  History repeats and bears witness to life.

(image belongs to Blue Ridge Photography and can be purchased here)

A visit to a cameo factory impressed upon me the delicacy of art and the creation of beauty.  Laughter with friends, being a teenager but feeling like an adult. The joy of looking back and still feeling exactly what I felt at the time..being transported as if I was still 16 1/2.  And knowing that I want more experiences like that in this lifetime.

(all photographs with the exception of  The Sistine Chapel and The Pieta are from etsy and belong to the photographers who have taken these photographs.  Please do not copy or use for your own purposes).

Forgiveness and the Soul

There are so many times in my life when I've made a promise to myself or to someone else, or set up a challenge that I know is going to be in my own best interest.  I'll work hard and I'll be diligent and yet, sometimes, I'll slip and fall.  There were times when I blamed myself and I was harsh with myself, and times when I felt a complete failure.  I had to learn to be gentle with myself and I had to learn to forgive myself.  Why is it that we can so easily find forgiveness in our hearts for others and yet we are so punitive with ourselves and unable to bend just that little bit to say "I forgive you."?

I know there are many people who struggle to forgive others and it is a hard road to be on.  But I also know that if we don't learn how to forgive ourselves for our small and even our bigger transgressions we will never be able to forgive others.

One of the best things I did for myself this winter was to take Melody Ross' "Soul Restoration Workshop" which is offered through the Brave Girls Club.  I didn't think about it before I registered, I didn't dawdle and pose all sorts of questions to myself, "do I need this?", "why is this interesting me, right now, at this time in my life?" -- I saw the information, read the brochure and clicked to register.  I can say in all honesty that this is one of the best online courses I have ever taken.

I'm still working on this course.  I have watched all the videos and I have done much of the work involved in the exercises, but this is a life long project and there is no "deadline" for me to finish.  I've taken the words and the inspiration that Melody has offered and I have taken them to heart.  I am creating something physical to have in my hands for times when I need to remind myself of my worth and of how I restored my soul to where I need to have it in order to feel empowered.

For me, it all begins with forgiveness.  I learned (and continue to learn this) to forgive myself.

(photograph credits: original photograph by Sherry Smyth.  Image of the woman is from Picture Palace.  Rock was created by Kim Mailhot).

Left Neglected

While I was on my hiatus from blogging, I read Lisa Jenova's debut novel, "Still Alice", a beautifully told story of a young woman beginning her journey with early onset Alzheimer's Disease.  I found it moving, heart wrenching and hopeful.

Yesterday I picked up Lisa's current novel, "Left Neglected".  I hadn't been "waiting" for this book to be published, but when I saw the book and recognized the author I knew that this was something I was very much looking forward to reading.

Often when I add a new book to my collective, every growing stack of "to be reads", it must wait it's turn.  I'm a bit quirky that way.  As much as I can be spontaneous and impulsive at times, there are just as many times (perhaps more if I'm honest) where I still cling to routine and regimen (I think it's genetic...my great grandfather was a company Sergeant major in the army).  Yesterday, "Left Neglected" did not go into the stack, it stayed in my hands.  I found a quiet spot and sat down to read.

"Left Neglected" is the story of a young woman -- career woman, wife, mother, chauffeur...a multi-tasker like so many women today.  Doing it all to have it all she describes herself as a "balloon about to burst".  Until a traumatic accident bursts that balloon for her.  Sarah Nickerson's life journey takes a twist and a turn that affects not only herself but her vision of her world, what she believes she wants, and those who share her life.  Left Neglect is a  neuropsychological condition that I had never heard of until I read this book.  Fascinating, challenging and heart breaking it may be.  Rebuilding a life around this is another of life's mysteries.

Trauma in our lives has the power to cripple us...to change us in many ways.  How we perceive that trauma and ourselves is the critical key to our recovery both physically and emotionally.  Lisa Genova has a Ph.D in neuroscience which allows her to bring technical and medical knowledge to her writing.  Her empathy, compassion and ability to tell her stories and to humanize her characters is not a talent, it is a gift.

I consumed this novel in a matter of hours, pausing only when necessary.  I needed to stay with Sarah and her family on this journey.  I cheered for her and I wept for her.  I loved her strength and her hope. I loved her humour and ability to laugh at herself.  I wept at the end of the book.  Not because it was over.  Because it touched my heart.

Waxing Nostalgic

 

(photo found on google.com)

"We could learn a lot from crayons; some are sharp, some are pretty, some are dull, while others bright, some have weird names, but they all have learned to live together in the same box."

 ~Robert Fulghum ~

I've been thinking about crayons. About how much fun I would have with a box of these simple wax creations.  Most of the time my sister and I would have a box of 8, one box each.  They came in a Christmas stocking, or were part of a birthday gift, even put into an Easter basket.  Sometimes we were given crayons "just because".  For many parents a box of crayons was a reasonably priced choice for entertainment.  I don't imagine many parents thought of crayons as an art tool, or that they were supporting budding artists.  They were simply a means to an end...keep the child happy and occupied.  A colouring book might have accompanied the crayons but as often as not, we were given scraps of paper to decorate.

Crayola was a real treat to receive and a box of 64?  Nirvana!  Peacock was the brand my mother favoured due to cost no doubt.  It makes me shake my head to think that as an 8 year old, there was "status" to be had by the brand of crayon you had.  Children today are so much more "brand" conscious than we were but I certainly remember being in awe and filled with envy when I'd go to a classmates' home and she had the 64 box with the sharpener!!  I'd think to myself  "that girl's got connections!"  When I did receive my first box of Crayola 64's I was in heaven and had no idea which colour to use first.  I was hesitant to choose one over another and to mar the perfect top of any crayon.  For awhile it was enough to just open the lid, smell that heavenly fragrance (one that still takes me back to childhood) and gaze upon row after row of beauty.  I now had "silver" and "gold" and I had "aquamarine"!!  Oh the possibilities....

(photo found on google.com)

There was nothing quite so devastating as breaking a crayon.  And yes, I was the girl who found tape and put them back together so they would stand at attention in the box.  I peeled the paper ever so gingerly as the tops wore down and then would come a day when the box looked sad, run down and defeated.  No more pointy tops, no more "shine", paper wrappers gripped in sweaty little hands had lost their glow, crayons gone missing from the box.  Time for a new box and to begin once again my love affair with colour.  That's really where it all began.

Give crayons. Adults are disturbingly impoverished of these magical dream sticks.

~ Dr SunWolf ~

As for Dr. Sun Wolf's quote, I can't think of anything nicer to receive or to give.  They were always my first choice when one of my sons was to attend a birthday party.  I'm adding these to my gift list for next Christmas.  I can't imagine anyone being unhappy about that!  When was the last time you opened a box of crayons?  I'm on my way out now - and yes, I'm picking up a box of 64!

Journeys

“Your journey has molded you for your greater good, and it was exactly what it needed to be. Don't think that you've lost time. There is no short-cutting to life. It took each and every situation you have encountered to bring you to the now. And now is right on time.” 

~ Asha Tyson ~

(photo purchased for use in art from Ireland Rose Nostalgia)

 There is a woman I know on facebook.  I've never met Kitty, who lives hundreds of miles away, and I don't remember how we became facebook friends.  Perhaps she knew someone that I knew and the request for a friendship was made.  I no longer remember whether I asked her or she asked me, but it really is of no consequence.  We met and we connected...that is the important part.  Kitty and I do not exchange thoughts and ideas, we don't share about our lives, and yet there is a wonderful give and take in this relationship.  

Kitty primarily and probably solely if I think about it, posts quotes and inspiration.  She has a wealth of quotes to draw upon and every day these little nuggets either make me laugh or leave me thinking in a way I hadn't considered before.  Sometimes I'll start my day by having my usual conversation with God (we chat in the shower -- those of you who know me, know this about me) and I may need direction or ask for guidance on a specific issue or even just in general at a time when I might be feeling lost and unsure.  I cannot tell you how many times I'll check facebook later in the day and Kitty has already been there, leaving just exactly the quote and the direction I was seeking.  Other times a quote will spark a thought and a dialogue will ensue between a group of us who read Kitty's quotes.

I like the quote I've shared here.  I like the fact that I'm where I'm meant to be, in exactly the time and the place.  I like the idea that my journey has molded me to the person that I am -- for the greater good.  My own most definitely and I hope for the greater good of others as well.  I like to think that all the hardships as well as all the joyful experiences have brought me to a place of understanding, empathy and appreciation for who I am, where I go, what I do and what I believe.  I like the thought that I am right on time and that tomorrow I will be right on time -- it gives me comfort.  I like knowing that my journey will continue and it will continue to mold me as it needs to.

If you look at your own journey can you identify the ways in which it has molded you to the person that you are today, right here, right now, in this moment?  Look even closer and see the positives and the joy.  See what you have created.

How Are You?

original photograph by Sherry Smyth

Wind blowing a gale, snow falling, and coffee with a friend...a delightful way to spend the morning.  Laughing, sipping, both trying to talk at once and then saying "no you go first" and then both talking at once again...and then silence as both wait to take their turn and burst out laughing in unison.

When the stress of life becomes overwhelming, just being with a friend who knows you, and likes you anyway, that can ease the burden so easily.  You begin to feel the tension in the shoulders drop away and you realize that allowing life and all its responsibilities to take control over your time is too easily done so that days and then weeks and sadly often months go by without having the opportunity for someone to say to you, "so how are you doing?"

Tell me, how are you these days?

Rebirth

(original artwork by Sherry Smyth)

Ten months is a long time to be silent, especially for someone like me...who loves to talk and to share. It has been a good break and a time of reflection and pondering, of listening quietly to see what comes next.

In the last few weeks the silence has become deafening and in working through a change I realized that there were parts of myself that were beginning to cry out for attention. It's time to get back into the mainstream and what comes next.

It feels good to be home.