Seeing the Good, For a Bit

For several years now, I've known about and lusted for a Traveler's Notebook to use when I journal. Some of them are expensive (and that's the ones I liked best) and I was never able to justify the money on something as seemingly trivial as a notebook. Plus, I didn't know for sure what size I wanted and since it was such an investment, I did not want to take a chance on being wrong!

Then I discovered a group on Facebook where they bought and sold the brand I wanted. The first one that popped up at a price I was willing to pay was the larger pink one in the picture. Someone had tried to decorate it with ink circles and splats and didn't use permanent ink. I expressed my interest and ordered it. Then I began to sweat bullets because the owner had put a sticker on the front (that I did not want to keep on it). I'd asked her if she would remove the sticker so I could see how bad it was underneath. Although she said in her original posting there was no damage to the leather under the sticker, she wouldn't remove the sticker for me, saying she didn't want to damage anything. So while I waited for my shipment to arrive, I imagined how ugly whatever that sticker was hiding was and chided myself for being so foolish as to purchase the darn notebook (years, I tell you, years I looked at these notebooks*). But it was love at first sight when the notebook arrived. I carefully pulled the sticker off and what was revealed was nowhere near as bad as what I had imagined (isn't that so often the case?).

On that very same day, the smaller pink one was listed. I ordered that one too (though I had no idea what I was going to actually do with it)! This one was very new and had no blemishes on it. That made me nervous (and still does).

The green one was listed about a week later and I decided I needed that one too. I'm using it for a wallet and that is working out very well.

What I like about buying used is that they notebook already has a bit of character to it. I don't have to worry about protecting it like I do with the pink one. I really doubt I'd ever buy one brand new for that reason.

So I've been busy writing and doing collages and other things for my own entertainment in these notebooks. It's therapeutic!

The pages in the larger book are long and narrow, so I am somewhat limited as to what I can do in the notebook, but I do enjoy adding color here and there. This is a page I did not long ago.

The quote is "What is the good of your stars and trees, your sunrise and the wind, if they do not enter into our daily lives?" (E.M. Forster)


* When we were first married, I found some bedroom furniture that I wanted. We couldn't afford it at the time, and I visited my furniture at Sears many times. There was one old guy who would always come and try to sell the set to me. I told him I wasn't ready to buy just yet, but when I did, I would be sure and ask for him (at the time, my husband was selling and getting commission so I wanted this guy to get the commission, if there was any). I'd go look, come home and measure our teeny-tiny bedroom and ponder just how many pieces I could fit in the room.

The day finally came that we were ready to buy. My husband and I went together to Sears. We got there, and asked for the salesman who'd been so patient with all my looking. Poor guy had up and died on me! Another salesman got lucky that day. I hope he breathed a silent thanks to the other salesman.

Spring Haiku and Dem Bones

One lonely azalea

blooming where she is planted

harbinger of spring

 At one time, I had a redbud tree in our front yard that was my harbinger of spring. Sadly, we had to cut it down. This weekend when I saw this single bloom on our (huge) azalea bush, I was reminded that spring is indeed on her way to us.

I've been working on my "build bone density" plan. I have a chart and every day I fill in the square on the things that I have done on my list. I've had to accept that I'll never do it perfectly and that just because I won't do it perfectly does not mean I should sit down and not even try. On some days, that is the temptation--to sit. This feels like an uphill battle and I am working on climbing that hill.

I've talked with our wellness person at work. She is helping me set up a strength training routine. I"m grateful to have that resource. I'm often surprised that more people around me do not take advantage of the various things the wellness person can help with. I'm doing that twice a week and hope to soon move up to three times a week.

Since we've switched to daylight savings time, I'm trying to walk 30 minutes 5 times a week (wellness lady's "prescription"). That gets me the 150 active minutes recommended by whoever recommends stuff like that! I may get back to playing tennis. It's been so long. I am afraid I won't have the stamina needed to play three sets (or 30 minutes, whichever comes first), much less do three 30 minute rounds.

In This Moment

When you look up from writing in your journal and it feels like

you're looking at a tiny abstract work of art

and all it is is

the inside of a security envelope with paint slapped on

and mounted on an ordinary paint chip from the hardware store.

Add the smell of the lilac candle,

and just for a moment or two, 

you wonder how life could get any sweeter than right now,

in this moment.

A Most Relaxing and Rainy Weekend

On Friday I went to the student art show and bought my annual piece (or two!) of pottery, one of my ways of honoring my son's memory.

It was one of my favorite kind of weekend, cold and rainy. I stayed in most of both days, reading and writing, and taking a few pictures. I read a book on intuitive painting, collage making, and read parts of another one about writing essays. I also read some in a special edition of Flow magazine. It was an issue dedicated to mindfulness.

And my most exciting news of all, that I almost thought wasn't going to happen is that I signed up to take an online painting class from Kelly Rae Roberts! She had this fantastic sale to celebrate ten years in business and the sale was so good that it crashed her website. It took several days to get it up and running again. I got an email with the new coupon code and the news that the deadline to order was midnight Saturday! We were in the country, where I do not have internet, and only spotty service on my phone. I didn't think I could hold a connection long enough to sign up. We decided to go in to the small town nearby for dinner and I was able to sign up while we were there. I am so looking forward to taking this class!

Here are photos of my pottery finds.

This is a small piece. It's thick and heavy. I'm not always looking for perfection when I'm shopping for a piece. Sometimes it's the pieces that seem to have a few flaws that speak to me. 

I've gotten to where I really like the bowls. This one is shallow and you can see where they didn't get the color all the way to the bottom of the bowl. It also might be just a little bit lopsided but that's okay by me!

This is just a grouping of things I found around the place at different times.

I forgot to mention that I pulled my tiny sketch book out of my purse and did a loose rendering of our tiny Christmas tree!

Something Different

Perhaps I should have used the word "boundaries" instead of "barriers"? I don't know. I was just playing around and worked rather quickly.

This is a collage of three different photos. Mostly I was experimenting and seeing what would happen if I...

This is what happened!

Enjoy the Ice Cream, or Life, Whatever The Case Might Be

Going in to the labyrinth, when I was in San Antonio with my friends, was also an enlightening experience.

In the week after I was told I had no evidence of cancer, a classmate of my sister's died. I assume from cancer. My cousin died after a routine gall bladder surgery. Both were far too young. I was left wondering how things worked the way they did--why am I still here and others are not? What does this mean?

One of my wise friends mentioned to me that she had decided I'd been forced to join a club to which most folks don't want to belong. I'd always been aware of being in that "club" of parents who had lost a child, another club to which no one wants to belong, but I hadn't thought of having "the cancer" as being forced to join that club no one really wants to join.

And because she is a statistical type of thinker, she also mentioned that not only was I in the "cancer club," I was also in the subset of "survivors," where of course, we all want to be. But that brings it's own set of stresses and not everyone gets that privilege.

These things were on my mind as I was walking into the labyrinth, that I didn't know why I was blessed to have made it into the survivors club, that I was extremely grateful for the privilege, even while I was filled with sorrow for those I knew whose lives had ended way too soon. Life just isn't fair and I can't explain or understand why these things worked out the way they did.

I decided that day that "why" is a useless question, at least where things like life and death and the number of days we are allotted is concerned. I wanted to go back and ask my friends what they thought about the value of why as a question, but we got off on other things and I forgot all about it.

Fast forward to today, while I was reading backwards in a "daily book" that I read, looking for quotes to put in my calendar, in an attempt to add color and depth to the pages.

On July 15th, I was told there was no evidence of cancer. I was also told they would see me again in October. So, occasionally, when I pass on the news that "I am all clear," I whisper silently to myself words like, "at this moment," or "as far as I know now." The prospects of having to go back in October, and again, every three months for three years, and then every six months for two more years before I could be really declared "cured" weighed heavily on me. I joked that I was now that I was declared "clean," that I could now go out and start living again. In three month increments. Of such things are the stresses of the survivors (but I'll take that stress, I'm not complaining, just trying to figure things out in my head).

Anyway, somehow, during that walk into the center of the labyrinth, the weight of those three month increments was lifted and I came to realize how I just need to take my life one day at a time, and not waste a minute of it worrying about what might be. We all get what we get in terms of days to live.

Okay, I'm rambling here! Today, on the July 15th page of this "daily book," there was this quote. I don't know how it didn't scream "I'm significant!" on July 15th when I first read it. Maybe I hadn't heard the good news yet, I don't know.

But it seems to be a good philosophy for me to employ any time I let the "three month increment" blues take over.

"My advice to you is not to inquire why or whither, but just enjoy the ice cream while it's on your plate--that's my philosophy." Thornton Wilder 

Note to Self: Before I Die: Live

I've spent my whole life trying to stay out of trouble with people, some people more than others.

I have scurried around trying to guess what I should be doing, or should have done, so that I am not in trouble with anyone. And sometimes, there are precious few clues as to how to avoid being in trouble.

It is a pitiful way to live.

On the "before I die" board I wrote "live."

I walked an outdoor labyrinth when I was visiting my friends this weekend. I'd only previously walked the canvas labyrinth laid out in the gym of a local church. While walking the labyrinth I was given, among other things, the word "freedom." I felt guilty because I'd told my friend I'd come to the kitchen to visit while she did her thing. She didn't need any help. That's what she said, and I trusted her enough to have meant what she said--there was no need for me to try and find some hidden message in her communication (and that's a related blog post for another day). But the labyrinth called me. My mind was quieted as I walked to the center. Still, on the way out, I fretted because I was being gone so long. Thirty, forty minutes, what is that in the whole grand scheme of life?

And yet, that is how we waste our lives, a minute here, and a minute there.

But I digress.

While walking out from the center of the labyrinth I discussed with myself the option of skipping the path laid to complete the labyrinth and to just stop the walk and go to my friend, like I said I would.

And my spirit told me I, and I alone, held the freedom to choose. Feeling the tautness of freedom placed like a graft in hopes of creating new skin, I breathed a sigh of gratitude and chose to continue the walk.

(And I was in no trouble at all with my friend.)

Today I bless myself with the hope that I will feel the weight of my own (hard earned) freedom and may I truly live before I die.

Thinking about this right now, I know my thoughts are partially influenced by a sermon I had not yet heard when I walked the labyrinth on Friday. The pastor was speaking of troublesome times and referred to the strength of trees, admonishing us to "feel the weight of your trunk" in times of struggle. She also said to "trust your roots." Those two phrases will remain with me for a while. And will eventually show up in one of my thangs, I imagine.

One of the things I loved about the idea of "feeling the weight of your trunk" is that we talk all the time about feeling the weight of negative things (depression, loss, grief, cancer), so why not focus on feeling and being aware of, and grateful for, the weight of more positive things (strength, growth, healing, love)?

Hope and Redemption

I've been neglecting my blogging and I don't like that.

My six week checkup was a bit of a fiasco, but I suppose all's well that ends well. The Ct scan showed a spot on the liver> They wanted a closer look at it and so I had to do an MRI. In the words of one of our professors at work, "let me just say this about that"--I was well conditioned to fear MRIs. But I went to have it done, after talking to several people about the thing, and gathering various tips on how to cope while "in the tube." The machine was not open air, but it allegedly had a larger opening than most. I would love eventually to write in more detail about that experience. For now, I'll just say it went far better than I ever expected. And, the spot they say turned out to be a benign mass of "tangled blood vessels" (hemangioma). So everything is clear and I report back to the oncologist in October for my next check up. 

 

Needless to say, I am beyond excited to have this positive report. I am currently absorbing this information and perhaps inexplicably, I am asking myself the question, "What shall I do now?" Cause, you know, I don't want to waste my privilege. And when one is faced with the possibility of their own demise being way sooner than one expected, one does tend to think about things, perhaps overly so.

 

The words on this photo are lyrics from an older song. I don't do well at keeping up with current music so I'd never heard of the song or the group but the words do appeal to me. The background is from a photo I'd taken of partially assembled prayer flags I was working on, edited in a "Tiny World" app on my phone.

I'll not be around much for the next several days. I am off to gather again with my camp out tribe sisters from blogland, for our second annual retreat. I'll be seeing old friends again and meeting two friends in person for the very first time!

A Word of Enlightenment

I sent this to a friend, who replied with this: "Oh yes, true.  But what I keep hearing from The Department of the Interior is that the OTHER thing that screws us up is having a deep sense of how we WANT things to be, along with a sense that we shouldn't want that, or that we should never inconvenience anyone else by trying to get it."

Yeah, well, that is one of my ongoing battles, the tension between knowing when the picture in my head of how things are supposed to be is a big fat load of pomposity and when it is a legitimate expectation of how life really is supposed to be. I almost always hear it as a big fat load of pomposity, and that I shouldn't inconvenience anyone by trying to get what I want. My "Direction of Correction" is in learning that sometimes others will be inconvenienced by things I want, and that does not mean I am selfish for wanting what I want.

If you don't get your tension right, you're sewing is gonna look all fonky, and the threads will eventually get all entangled and break. If you don't get your tension right on your bicycle chain, you're gonna fall off and bust your arse. Life can't work like it's supposed to work when you don't have your tensions rightly adjusted.

 

(I was just fooling around in my journal and did the one up top with colored Sharpies, then edited the photo on my phone by putting the frame around it and decided to also do a black and white version.)

Gallery Five: The Light Arrived

This is my photo for Gallery Five of the 52 Photos Project. The prompt is "The Light Arrived." I had the blinds open in my room and noticed how the shadows of the trees made the light dance on the floor like flames.

And I've been reading this fascinating book, "How the Light Gets In: Writing as a Spiritual Practice,' by Pat Schneider. Both of these quotes are from different places in the book. I've been taking quotes from the book, typing them into my notes app on my phone. I wanted to finish the book this weekend but I still have a couple of chapters to go.

This one is an old Russian saying, according to the author of the book I'm reading. She cited Alexander Solzhenitsyn as having said it. 

Just noticed I spelled the author's name wrong in the photo above. Dang it, guess I'll have to go back in and fix that. Good thing this is a phone photo and text app I've used. That will make it all the easier to fix. Just not tonight!

52 Photos Project, Gallery Three: Sugar

 Sugah, is that a sugar spoon I see in that ant pile?

(I am from the South but my sense of proper etiquette has faded lately. I never was too good at formality, to tell the truth!)

"Self Portrait: Artist at Play"

I did not realize I was so well reflected when I took this photo with my phone.

I think I'm going to want to print this one.

And this one:

There is something quite Zennish about polishing (cheap) silver(plate) while sitting on my porch listening to the birds sing. I bought the set at a second hand shop and thought it was complete place settings because it said there were 64 pieces. There might have been 64 pieces but there were only 6 forks, and two of those were a different pattern from the rest! 

I originally thought I might use the pieces for some sort of artsy-fartsy craft project. I might still do that. 

This is my quirky contribution to Week Three of the 52 Photos Project.

52 Photos Project, Gallery Two: Criss Cross

Just so happens I had a few photos with a sort of criss cross theme.

This is one of the old windows on a little room my uncle is fixing up for me. 

This is a view from the inside looking out.

We planted a small garden a couple of weeks ago. I was playing around with my shadow and my gloved hand.

(My contribution to the 52 Photos Project.)

52 Photos Project, Gallery One: Fire

The porch of my little house in the country. We often sit out here in the evenings and wait for the "booger light" to come on. That is what my grandparents always called the security light. The candles are citronella, and necessary lately because of all the mosquitoes.

When we aren't on the porch, we are gathered out in the yard around our fire pit. There is nothing like a quiet evening in the country with darkness all around and the stars shining in clear skies above.

(My contribution the week one of the fourth year of the 52 Photos Project. I enjoyed participating some before but ended up getting off track. We will see how well I do this time around!)

Wordless Wednesday, May 7. 2014

The "Brutiful" Winter is Gone

It's been a beautiful and a brutal winter, both literally and metaphorically. "Brutiful" is the made-up word I saw sometime today on a blog post somewhere. Yes, that. We had "snow days" on two different occasions. On one of those breaks, it actually snowed! It was enough to blanket the ground in a solid white that lasted a couple of days. I was grateful to see snow again! But the cold weather seemed to last forever. The cold and the dark was not good for my soul. I said more than once that I did not know how people up north survive the length of winter with its lack of light.

The winter was brutal on my exercise schedule and I got off track with that. I am slowly trying to get back around to a regular walking schedule. Progress is very slow. 

But now spring seems to have arrived around here and I am in a somewhat better frame of mind (or I hope to be, very soon). I have stories in my head that I want to write but they seem to be stuck and the words won't come out. My thoughts don't seem to be sticking very well and I can't remember sometimes if I have written about certain things or not.

It wasn't long ago that I stopped and took these photos of an abandoned fire tower located in a field on one of the roads we often travel when we go to the country. They make me remember that part of what I am doing as spring comes is to look around and survey my grounds to see what damage winter has done and to see the places in my life where my attention is needed most.

My blog is one place I want to direct my attention. Comparing myself to others (and coming up short) is one thing that keeps me from here. It is a debilitating self-consciousness that keeps me sitting quietly in the corner. Right now, I have three stories that I need to tell. I need to relax and get them told. Maybe now that the weather is improving and light is returning to the days I will open up and let the stories flow. I want to. I surely do. It seems to me that a commitment to just showing up would be helpful.

Maybe now that the light has returned to the skies, and to the days, I will throw off that dark cloak of winter and choose to show up again, here on the blog, and in my life. I desperately need to.

I am grateful for the light.

Breathe

My youngest daughter sent me a text with this photo she'd taken, saying I probably had a quote for it. The photo was a pretty heart shaped leaf with some very good light on it. I manipulated it a bit in one of my phone apps and had to wait a few days for the quote to arrive in an email from a friend. The words are good reminders.

I think I like the gold version the best. But that might be because I have a different set of words on the blue photo that I will be writing more about later.

Happy New Year!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Memories

I am enjoying the second week of my two weeks off (and trying not to fret over how quickly the time is passing by). I don't have regular internet, only my phone and can't respond to comments on my blog.

Today I am thinking of the joys and challenges of 2013. It was a good year. I think. My memory is spotty. I hope to live next year with more awareness.

Then again, someone on Facebook said there is an old saying that says if you have one foot in the past and the other foot in the future, you are pissing on today (oh, please do 'scuse my French). I surely don't want to do that. Today, now, are all I really have. Aren't they?

Well, as long as I have today, I do still have me, and my spotty memories, and my hopes for the future.

And so it is that I will trudge philosophically into 2014 and discover what adventures await me there. . .

(I suspect my photo will be huge and will make this post look wonky. I do not know how to fix that from my phone. I WILL fix it when I get home to my laptop! Oh, I may have fixed the problem just now. Or I may have made it too small to be seen. Whatever. I will try not to obsess about it and will fix it when I can!)

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Love. Joy. Peace.

There are plenty of us for whom Christmas is a tough season. My wish is that there is always, somewhere, at least a small snippet of love, of joy, of peace for you. And maybe, on a good day, more than just a small snippet. And may you also have someone who can stand with you, waiting quietly, while the darkness passes and turns back to light.

A Brittle Fall Leaf Reminds Me

Vulnerable is not a place I like to be.

But I'm coming up on a vulnerable time.

And slowly I've learned: 

there are people who will walk with me in these vulnerable times,

people who will hold the light on the path

and I hope I can remember 

to do that for others 

when they are in their vulnerable places

for, like the man says,

we are all vulnerable in our own way

(and probably more so than we ever know).