messages...

Yesterday I spent over an hour of my day wrapped in another woman's pain.  I felt both blessed and deeply pained that she was willing to share with me, a virtual stranger, the story that was so deep and fresh.  It's been all over the news since February.  The loss of her husband. Stolen from her and their beautiful life by a selfish young adult.

She showed me pictures, she'd brought 5 poster boards full of their life together and several packets of pictures and told me their story.  I cleared as much time as she needed from my day.  Listening the, allowing her space to smile and to cry.  How they met, how they supported each other in life, how much fun they had together and the various adventures that they went on together. She shared that they could complete each other's sentences and that they had met playing in sports at their church.  How they had known each other for a long time, but each had been committed to someone else.  And then in one magic moment both were single at the same time and the universe finally stepped in. 

I felt like I was listening to someone telling me the story of my sweet Hubs and myself.  Some of the locations were different, but the rest... strangely, hauntingly familiar.  Tons of selfies in fun places, silly pictures, dressy pictures, all telling the story of a life full of love and happiness.  Two souls that were bound to unite in life and battle any challenges side by side. 

Our stories diverged as she shared with me the end of their fairy tale life together.  And honestly that is how it felt, like hearing a fairy tale.  Only in reverse.  Most fairy tales start with the tragedy at least somewhere near the beginning and end with the happily-ever-after.  

She shared with me the painful day that she lost him.  How she heard the ring, but instead of rushing to the door as she always did she continued to be engrossed with a problem from work.  She had a haunted look as she described hearing the shot that took his life and that she now lives with wonder of what might have happened had she opened the door as usual.  Would he still be with her?  Would she be with him?

Walking silently through her pain, I simply listened.  In another time, I would have offered her a hug, she looked and sounded as if she desperately needed one.  She spoke of how she has his favorite flannel shirt that she snuggles up with to provide her some sense of comfort in the quiet and lonely house.  She shared so much that hit home like a strike to the solar plexus. 

The woman in the pictures she shared, hardly resembled the woman in front of me.  Her eyes are still haunting me. 

But it is something deeper.  

Hubs and I are doing many of the things she spoke of, planning for the future, dreaming of retirement and things they wanted to do.  Words she spoke aloud, were words that have been radiating and echoing in my heart and soul.  Thoughts that hadn't been given birth to yet. I am still in a swirl from the conversation.  My heart hurts for her, yet in a strange way I feel that she was sent to give me clarity. 

There truly was no reason for our paths to cross. A random phone call was passed to me and and the conversations began.  She was making a donation to our annual campaign in his memory.  A chance to change the future for another child to maybe prevent what had happened from playing out again.  

As she wrote the check yesterday I am sure I went a bit pale. 

The street was Leola.  Again there was that shock to the solar plexus.  My Grammie.. one of my strongest supporters in my life was Leola. No matter what I needed, I knew she was there.  And even when continents and oceans separated us I could always feel her love and hugs. 

I evidently drive past that street twice a day.  Yesterday I finally saw it. 

I've been feeling very strongly that the universe is reaching out to me, that it is trying to give me messages.  Waiting for me to understand. 

My Facebook feed has been filled with things that keep resonating with me.  Past memories of different times and similar events keep showing up.  They all keep circling back to the same ideas and topics.  Even sitting here thinking this through the back of my head is tingling, it always happens when I am starting to wake up to what I need to know.  

I know if I were to consult one of the people I see, they would tell me I already know what the universe is telling me. And who knows maybe I do.  This morning scrolling around and reading I came across another of my favorite inspirational speakers.  And the short video I watched was so powerful, so relevant, so much about where I am right now. 

I couldn't help her.  I couldn't bring back the love that was ripped away.  I thanked her for sharing and letting me lift her burden if only for a moment. She thanked me for being willing to simply listen, that I was a good listener.  I don't know about that, but I am grateful for the blessing she gave me.  

I don't know what prompted my next words, my own life/work balance is not great, but before I knew it, before the words had penetrated my brain, I told her that I would be honored to make her a quilt from his t-shirts so she had something bigger to wrap herself in for comfort.  I felt a great sense of peace making that offer.  She asked how many she needed and told me that she didn't know if he had any laying around, but that she would look.  I also felt compelled to do something I don't do easily, I gave her my personal phone number.  

In another time I think we would have been great couple friends.  Her sweet husband sounded like an echo of mine.  Similar thoughts, ideas, likes and dislikes and the same love of being good to people. 

I definitely want a different outcome for Hubs and I, yet I want to honor and cherish the message and stories shared with me yesterday. She is a strong woman with an even stronger loving heart. It sounds like she is wrapped up with a blanket of family and friends that will hold her through these times. I know her message will strengthen me throughout my life. 

As worn as I was yesterday from the mental expenditure of the day, I came home and made my sweet Hubs one of his favorite dinners.  I hugged him a bit tighter and I thanked God for the time together and asked for a much longer time after that. For the not so gentle reminders that have been coming my way lately. 

I am blessed to have my soul mate walking life's path with me. I need to remember that and not fall into the robotic energies of day to day existence. 

enough...

The kitchen sink is currently full of the pocketed shawl that I just finished for my sister.  While it soaks I decided to sit in my sitting room, look out over my beautiful backyard, drink my tea and write.  I've really been doing some heavy thinking and processing this weekend.  It's been peaceful, calming and centering.  All of the things I have been lacking. As evidenced by the card I drew yesterday - All Tied Up.

I have been lost in my thoughts as my hands have been busy creating.  Four projects completed in one weekend?  I am absolutely buzzing from the energy I get with creating.  It will make it very hard to go to work tomorrow.  I'm on a roll, I hate slowing down again.  

For over 18 years my sweet Hubs has been trying to talk me into having faith in me, to starting a quilting business and living my dreams.  For that entire time, I have been pushing back.  Telling him he's a dreamer, that I am not good enough, it wouldn't help us support our family... oh my the stories I told not only him, but myself.  Anything to avoid taking a leap, having faith, simply believing in myself. 

I've often worried that we won't have enough.  That is one of the things I have really been digging into this weekend. What is enough?  At what point do you pass the imagined enough and have more than?  Or at what point do you truly not have enough.  What exactly am I measuring with enough? Is it a measurement?  

This morning Hubs came up from the man cave with a mischievous smile on his face. He thought I had slept in, when in reality I had been awake for several hours.  I took time to meditate, shower and vacuum up the huge amounts of my hair that blanket the house now. 

I had toyed with the idea of finding a beginner's yoga on YouTube and shied away from that idea. My knees are a hot mess and I am actually living in a world of fear where they are concerned. Although I am still feeling drawn to a yoga practice, I don't feel at this point I can risk any more damage. Tai Chi is looking promising though - several recent conversations have led me to believe that my original class was maybe not really Tai Chi. 

As I poured my coffee and enjoyed the beautiful sunrise out the window, I pressed for a reason for the smile.  If you knew him as well as I do, it only means one thing.  He's discovered or found something that for the moment (not a long one at that) will remain a secret.  Shhh... don't tell him, but he can't keep secrets very well.  At least not simple ones. 

I was still thinking through what the day ahead could hold when he said, that we would need to leave in an hour.  We were going to Columbia for lunch.

I had anticipated going for a motorcycle ride in a few hours if it had warmed enough, but I can assure you Columbia was not even remotely on my radar. Bewildered and amused I grabbed my steaming coffee and followed him upstairs.  

While we debated if the air was warm enough for either the bike or convertible, we both started getting ready.  Below 50 outside meant we were taking the truck.  He could have his cigars in that, I don't allow them in the bug unless it is top down weather.  I didn't ask where we were going.  I'm sure he was going nuts that I wasn't pleading for information.  I am trying to do better at just going with the flow of things and not needing to know everything. 

It didn't take him long to start dropping hints about the treasure he had found. He'd already called to make sure the almost two hour trip would not be a water haul.  They were definitely open. He shared with me that they make their specialty fresh every morning.  That they were considered the best place for their specialty outside of their home country.  I think there was one more hint, but honestly I was ready to guess.  I truly wasn't expecting to be right on the first guess... but score one for intuition!  He'd found a little mom and pop place in the heart of Columbia.  Cafe Poland.  Yep we were going to drive there just for pierogi's. 

Ironically I chose crepes

Sweet Hubs had pierogi's

Heading out west, my fingers flying through the final steps of my crochet project, chatting.  I have to say it was wonderful.  Our conversations flew in so many directions.  My heart was full, I had enough.

We pondered the future.  He's able to retire whenever he is ready.  I'm still too young by the government's standards.  For a long time the rule follower in me wanted to listen to them.  Again, I was bringing out the arguments by the bucketful. Slowly my heart and inner voice have started to believe what Hubs has said all along.  I don't know when I will take that leap of faith, who knows I might need to be shoved off that cliff.  Chicken that I am. 

We talked about the things we missed from before.  I pondered all of the things that I have given up in pursuit of the mythical "enough".  We had time to honestly unpack why I don't spend more time creating.  Especially as it is so vitally a part of who I am.  We daydreamed about the future, we "spit balled" names for my imaginary quilting business.  In a world where time is fluid and dreams are the currency that we trade in.

Truthfully, somewhere along the way, I have fallen in line with the if you work as much as is humanly possible then you are successful. Is that how you find the mythical "enough".  Is it a tangible thing?  Or is it something we are taught.  That you cannot ever have or be enough without hitting benchmarks in life.  It doesn't matter if those benchmarks bring joy, love, or satisfaction as long as you hit them.  

My home is filled with stuff.  Stuff bought with hours of my life in the pursuit of enough.  

Piles of supplies for crafts that I never have time to do.  Books I'd love to read, but fall asleep from exhaustion by the time I open them.  Cards that call to me to study, learn and someday master, when I can only manage the simplest of readings. Stacks of cookbooks - and to a large degree the ingredients to make most of the things that draw my attention.  Time spent with my children and grand children. Motorcycle rides with Hubs. Or quiet picnics in the park.

I have spent years searching for balance.  Maybe all that time I should have been searching for the meaning of enough. 

My dad always wanted us girls to shine, to be the best at everything.  If this was good enough, then how did you achieve better.  I remember a straight A report card and his disappointment because I hadn't achieved an A+.  He wasn't being cruel, he was proud of me (I know that now) he just wanted better for us. He'd had it a bit tough growing up, he didn't want his girls to have those experiences.  

Is that where my fear of not having or being enough began.  I don't know.  

Sitting here, listening to some beautiful hang drum music, enjoying the sunshine on my face, sipping my now cold tea, watching the birds flit in and out of the different feeders that we have hanging.  I am secure in the knowledge that I am loved for me.  I am in a safe place.  

With children and grandchildren that I love and adore.  A husband that probably needs his eyes (possibly his head) examined as he never points out the things I could and should change about myself.  Instead he always tells me that I am more than enough. 

my better half

I am so unbelievably blessed to have found my soul mate.  To have been brave enough to follow my heart.  In a world that is always demanding more, it is so wonderful to be someone's enough. 

The future we are dreaming of, seems much more tangible, more obtainable.  It feels like enough. 

this day...

Snuggled in a quilt that was just over 19 years in the making, marveling that I finally finished it. It isn't perfect, but darn close.  I probably pulled out an entire spool of thread in the process.  It was never going to be fancy or hang in quilt museum.  It was always meant to be a utility quilt. Strong and usable.  

My cup of tea is almost steeped and Hubs is starting to fall asleep.  I'm sitting in my absolute favorite seat in the house.  It fits me perfectly.  I don't usually find peace up here.  Not because I don't love it, nor that is isn't one of my favorite spaces.  Simply because, normally there are piles of laundry sitting around me pleading to be ironed and put away. There is nothing peaceful about unfinished chores.  

I am so thankful for this day.  For starting it with meditation and gratitude.  For deep conversations with Hubs, further digging into our future plans.  I am not usually much of a "future" kind of person.  Normally, I just know it will come.  I live in the here and now. For being focused and energized.  For simply living life. 

I have been listening to a wonderful summit online.  Honestly, I had a bit of a freak out moment this morning.  Trying to be quiet, as my early morning riser (Hubs) had fallen back asleep watching a movie, I'd decided to catch up on that ironing and my summit.  I was several days behind already.  Not the best way to start a 21 day summit. I had finished my blog and already published it.  I wrote what was on my heart this morning, I always do.  

Evidently the universe has definitely been listening in.  Because the first three presenters spoke right to the very thoughts and feeling I have been having.  It was a decidedly creepy moment.  The first presenter could have literally been describing my journey on this planet.  The back of my head was crawling, much like it is right now. 

This day has been electric.  That is the only way to describe it.  When I woke up to rain, I anticipated a lazy day.  Nothing accomplished, simply existing.  A lot of the weekends are that way for me, and as this was a 6 day week, I expected that to be the case. 

Instead, as I wrap up this day, as I unwind and count my blessings, I can count this incredibly relaxing and productive day as a major blessing. 

I'm tired, my knee is hurting, but I am feeling accomplished.  Oddly, the chores I completed didn't feel like chores, they weren't another check box for me.  I was truly taking care of myself and Hubs.  Evidently I was so engrossed in the two sewing projects that have waited months for my attention, that I never even heard my sweet Hubs come up to the sewing room, watch me for a bit and then turn around and leave. He hadn't wanted to break my concentration.  

A pair of pants that were too short for him, are now a great pair of shorts - perfect for summer float trips.  And the pair of pants that I was too short for, are now the perfect length.  A small bit of my sewing room has now been reclaimed. It felt powerful.  It felt like I was in control. 

A few errands were run, another taco stop for us at the little Mexican grocery in town.  Hubs is quite addicted. 

Mostly though, as I enjoyed this powerful, electrical and energizing day I went deep inside and just listened. I listened to my heart.  I listened to what I want life to be like and where it is now.  I was lost in deep thought and reflection as the day progressed.  

I'm getting ready to climb in bed, to rest a very weary body, I am so grateful.  I am grateful for those that reached out. I am grateful for my Hubs unwavering support, love and laughs. I am grateful for the feeling of completion that this day brings me.  

In my office by the door hangs a cross.  It has the words "I don't know what this day holds, but I know who holds this day." It has been in every office I have had since I became a property manager back in '07.  So very much has happened and changed.  And yet remained the same. Those words are like a shield and a talisman for me.  I often toy with bringing it home, and then remind myself that I probably need them more where they hang. 

I'm trying to live a far more grateful life, I'm curious, what are you grateful for?

clearing my path..

The pouring rain on the chimney cap was the gentle sound that woke me early this morning. As I spent time this morning in prayer and meditation I felt my world balancing.  Something I have long ago given up.  As I had a silent conversation, I reaffirmed my willingness to allow God and all of my guides to help me move forward. 

The past year or so has truly shown a spotlight on the imbalances.  I have neglected my health for too many years.  I have focused on things that truly have done nothing for me as a person.  I have accepted far too many things as okay, that were not.  I've struggled to understand why.

In deep meditation I made the decision to release it all to a higher power. To really start the journey to me.  To commit to letting go of things that do not serve me, that do not serve my highest good and do not feed my soul's journey. 

I've been letting fear lead me in too many areas.  Fear of the unknown is powerful.  It leads us into situations that steal our joy, keep us trapped and takes things from us that if left to run untethered can never be brought back. 

Yesterday was full of odd feelings, odd events and even verification of information that made me feel hollow inside.  It also started a waterfall of why's.  I spent the evening lost in thoughts, questioning my self-worth and conviction.  Slowly I moved out of that funk, into a clear head space.  

I prepared dinner, focusing on all the small steps.  Slicing the onions thin and even.  Slowly warming the avocado oil and using the best ingredients I had available, adding the potato pierogi and slowly tending them to their perfect state.  I added a glass of beautiful red wine and spent time talking with my dear sweet Hubs.  

After feeling confident that we were on the same page, both ready to move forward with plans, hopes and dreams, I felt the start of the scales sliding into balance. I am both stronger and wiser than I often give myself credit for and I am tired. 

Listening to societies messages, the stories that society tells you to control you has a very negative impact on a persons emotional health. The non-stop need to do more, to give more.  The subtle messages that scream you are not good enough, do more.  Or that we as humans do not fit in if we do not meet the check boxes assigned to us. For most of my life I have had people trying to change me.  To draw the narrow lines that I am allowed to walk with in.  I think most of us have experienced that in some way or another.  Too tall, too short, too fat, too thin, too smart, too ignorant, too quirky, too different, too... well you can fill in your adjective. Depending on the path you are on, it is always there. 

Yet there I was sitting beside a loving husband, who has spent so much time and energy trying to convince me to follow my dreams. To even dare to do so.  I have fallen back on all of the excuses.  Let fear of failure be a compass I followed. Listened to the world telling why not and not being brave enough to focus on why. 

So last night, even though I was tired.  Even though the day had been filled with more and more of those things that overwhelm me, I chose to head down to the man cave, to my long arm machine and tackle a few of those fears.

Hours worth of time spent researching the problems I have been having with my long arm led me to the confidence to try again.  Sweet Hubs was exhausted after a night of little sleep, yet he semi-slept and watched television in the chair near me. Constantly checking on the progress I was making.  Had we finally discovered all of the quirky little things I was doing wrong?  As I finished the last three rows of design, it went smoothly.  Nothing needed torn out. I guess we discovered the errors. 

As the last stitch went in, I did something I am always loathe to do.  In fact it is one of the reasons I have stalled at moving forward with my dreams.  I went back and started tearing out the errors to restitch.  It will take a fair amount of time today to make those corrections.  

Tearing out and repairing mistakes is much harder than making them. 

Wow, if that isn't a metaphor for life. Or at least mine.  

I have committed to taking these steps, in many ways.  I have released my anxiety and fears to a higher power.  I am committed to focusing on the journey that I wish to be on.  The one that will bring greater joy, a balance that I have longed for, and a peace that has for too long been missing. 

All of it will take longer.  But it won't happen unless I finally choose to make it happen. 

I choose the path I want to follow.  I choose happiness, peace, joy, fulfillment and most importantly, I choose me.  

My true authentic self. 

I choose to no longer push myself into a mold. I choose to not accept when others tell me I am not enough.  I choose to be the human that I was born to be. 

a round...

One of the absolute dearest people I know surprised me with a gift that is going to forever be a treasure yesterday.  For a lot of reasons... it's fabulous, it's a Boos, but most importantly it is from a dear friend that I cherish who evidently knows me far too well!  

As he gave it to me he was explaining to his boss that with all the hobbies I have and all the things I am always busy doing he didn't know anyone that needed a round tuit more.  As I joyously showed everyone, expecting them all to laugh out loud just like I had, I realized there is a whole generation that has no idea what a round tuit is. The perplexed looks took me by surprise.  How can there be people on this planet that have never heard of a round tuit? 

And then there were those that instantly recognized it!  They shouted out loud and started to laugh.  These are my people!

I'm sitting here in the quiet, listening to the popping of the 12 jars of jelly that I finished when I got home from work.  Time dictated that I get 'a round tuit', there was no way I was letting those flower teas go to waste.  The sense of satisfaction that I get from listening to them, well, that is just the icing on the cake so to speak.  

My dear friend by the way is a fine one to talk!  The photo's he takes with his cell phone can make a professional photographer blush in shame.  I love to see the world through his eyes.  And he's always baking or cooking something yummy and tempting - and taking incredible pictures of it - double whammy there. He can arrange flowers into beautiful arrangements - a few stems from the florist that were destined to be orphans all the sudden are transformed into an arrangement that brings joy to your very soul. 

His talents are incredible.  Yet, his greatest talent has nothing to do with his creativity.  He does more than get 'a round tuit', he is a master at relationships.  At being attentive, endearing, compassionate, and a million other words.  He truly listens with his heart and then goes above and beyond.  He has surprised me many times over the years I have been blessed to know him.  It feels like forever, and yet it's only been a few short years, I don't remember a time that he wasn't a part of things. 

I cherish the people in my life that I let in close.  He is truly one of those people.  And the number is very small.  He is the kind of person that fills a room with joy, just by being there.  Open, honest, kind, giving in so many ways, he has an infectious laugh and a willingness to help at all times, in any way he can. 

I never cease to be in awe of him as a person.  During the time we were shutdown, he reached out often to make sure I was okay, to offer his professional skills to anyone struggling to navigate the unemployment system, to coach me to help them.  And when he knew I was at my breaking point from the stress he quietly without fanfare let me know that I was truly "essential". 

I pray that he will always remain a part of my inner circle.  Because he is the kind of friend we all need and should try to be.  

Well... I guess I need to get busy wrapping up this blessed day.  To be thankful for the wonderful people I have in my life. A to be thankful for the gratitude a simple round tuit can bring to my life.

foraging...

What is that tree with the bright pink flowers?  Have you ever... Definitely how the conversation started. And my latest experiment. My sister and her husband came over for breakfast, I rarely see them so it was a definite treat, and she was standing at the kitchen window looking out at the mini-forest behind my house.  

The Redbud trees had caught her eye. In all fairness, they catch everyone's eyes this time of year.  They are not only beautiful, but plentiful here in eastern Missouri.  And April is definitely their month to shine! No matter where you look you will find a random redbud.  In the midst of evergreens, or standing proud by itself.  It's one of the first signs that spring has arrived. 

At no point while enjoying these beautiful hot pink blossoms did I ever think... hmmm... that would make a great jelly.  I just felt they were beautiful to observe.  That they heralded the arrival of one of my favorite times of the year.  Spring. 

And then my sister tells me that she's been reading about Redbud jelly and wondering if I had tried it. Of course I hadn't.  In fact I was in a bit of disbelief.  I mean I follow a ton of websites that are all about foraging and I am often amazed at the things that people have discovered, forgotten and rediscovered that are not only delicious, but healthy for you.  You know that I immediately started looking for a recipe.  I mean, if one existed, I felt we needed to give it a whirl.  Although I was still quite dubious. 

Those Ozark women were definitely on to something. As Hubs and I headed out to join them a bit later, I was chatting with him about it.  We'd missed our original turn and were turning around on a fairly unused road.  Redbuds all around.  Well... we harvested a bag full, me insisting that it was far more than the two cups needed, Hubs insisting it wasn't close. Ummmm... I was right, but thankfully he was insistent.  Because 3 little jars was never going to be enough as we later discovered. 

After spending a bit of time with them before they headed out of town, we headed home for a few moments to prep those buds. Rinse, stuff, cover with boiling water and wait.  Yep, step one involves waiting.  We know how I feel about waiting. 

I wouldn't get to make it until Saturday.  Tick Tock, don't look at the clock.  We went about enjoying the rest of Friday with Mom, who had made a rare visit to St. Louis.  We chatted about a zillion things, I'm sure, round and round the conversations went, yet in the back of my mind I was thinking jelly! 

Once I get a new thing to try in my head, well, I become a bit obsessive about it. And time was of the essence.  If this turned out as yummy and beautiful as everyone was saying it would, we were definitely running out of time to harvest more of the flowers.  Be still my mind!

Saturday morning, still not time.  It did not stop me from peeking and wondering if folks were full of prunes.  I kept looking at those jars, pale off white colored and doubting that I was going to end up with that vibrant pink jelly.  I read so much about about it in between drive times and visiting. Evidently, it was a common fear.  What did I have to lose?  A couple cups of sugar and a bit of time?

After having breakfast with another sister, her Hubs and Mom we headed off for mom's appointment.  While she was in her meeting, Hubs and I discovered an incredible kitchen gadget store down the road.  We are both HUGE suckers for those kind of stores.  I also felt fate drew us there.  I needed cheesecloth for my jelly making and there it was.  Everywhere in the store. 

I wasn't sure how much time it would take.  Old recipes are rarely accurate in that way. I was stunned at the simplicity and beauty. 

Smashing down the water and flowers into the fine mesh strainer, yielded a beautiful purple liquid.  I was more than a bit perplexed.  

Oh well, maybe it would be purple... Added the lemon juice, pectin and sugar... POP!  All the sudden that regal shade of purple was a trampy shade of hot pink!  I prepped jars as it came to a boil, gently stirred and kept testing consistency.  I saved a small bit for mom and I to taste.  I was not canning it if it was horrible. 

Surprise!  Not only was it not horrible it was was incredible.  It has a very soft grape like flavor and most delightful shade of hot pink ever. My sister returned from her quick trip north to see her in-laws to jelly to try. 

Yesterday morning dawn bright and early, with Hubs and I making the most of our time, out in the sticks picking hot pink flowers, 3 small jars was never going to be enough.  We had plans to meet everyone for baby sisters birthday breakfast and then I had to work all day.  We were definitely on a time budget.  

This time we filled 4 jars and I will make the jelly tonight.  Takes about 15 minutes a batch, which will yield approximately 12 jars of hot pink heaven.  We might share some. I'd say we will gather more this weekend, but snow is predicted tomorrow.  There will be no flowers left after that hits. 

We have definitely made a mark on the calendar to watch for the redbud blossoms next spring.  Now I have moved on to dandelion's.  I am going to ravage the uncared for garden beds at work.  A few cups of blossoms will produce a different kind of jelly.  I am anxious to try it. 

Darn you sis... Have you ever... is the start of a statement that should never be said to me! Thankful for a Hubs that will walk in crazy land with me.  And a sister that will challenge me to try things. 

time...

The older I get, the more I appreciate the fluidity of time.  We are taught that it is linear.  That one step follows another.  I am learning as I get older, as I spend more time engrossed in a meditation practice, as I simply get quieter that probably is not the case.  

There are huge segments of my life I simply do not remember.  When my children bring up times that I should remember I feel like the worst mother on the planet, because I simply cannot recall those precious moments.  I love to hear them tell me about them, they usually sound like profound and beautiful moments. Yet for me they are vacant spaces in the timeline in my head.  

That was years ago when in my ignorance I allowed doctors to over medicate me as a result of Lyme disease and fibromyalgia. When I was naive enough to think there was a magic pharmaceutical fix for the challenges that both of those things brought to my life.  Oddly, when I stopped being afraid of the pain, disorientation, the fog, the memory lapses, etc.  I learned that I didn't need those medications to make them better. I also found my memory became so much more clear, I had the ability to control the other symptoms and my life became my own.  

Yet this isn't about that... it's about time. 

I've been spending the past few weeks reacquainted with my longarm quilting machine, truth be told.  I have forgotten far more than I had originally learned.  I have really struggled with it.  Breaking needles, snapping thread, tearing out literally 100's of yards of thread because the tension is off and I can't seem to hit the sweet spot.  

I have cursed, cried and thrown my hands up in frustration.  I have immediately started tearing the stitches out, looking for information on what I could be doing wrong and started again. I have made the decision a dozen times to just leave it as it was, flawed, not able to sustain itself past the first use.  A bakers' dozen times I have decided to honor the work of this simple quilt and continue to tear it out and correct it. 

I have wasted literally hours tearing out stitches.  Probably twice as long as I have spent putting them in. I can't give up.  Once I finally finish the last two rows of quilting, I will go back and correct the spots that I had moved past earlier.  I'm starting to think I could have hand-quilted this simple quilt. 

So why? 

Time. 

This quilt top is from another time, a different life, a moment when I tried to be someone else, join a guild, work with a group of talented women.  We were from every imaginable dynamic on our small base.  It was our answer to dealing with the stress left by Sept. 11, 2001.  When you live on a small military base in the shadow of a major international airport.  There is stress. We had everything from Generals, military attorneys, teachers, housewives, single women, mom's, childless.  All stitched together. Bound by a craft that has brought many women and men together for 100's of years.  

This particular quilt is one of many very much like it.  Each row was made with care by each of us.  They are identical on all of our quilts.  Simple blocks, springtime was our theme. We all assembled them in a different order.  Yet each quilt held one of each row. On every row we created we wrote our name, the date we completed the row and where we were originally from.  That little base in Germany was not our place of origin.  It was our temporary home.  

Time has moved on.  That sweet simple quilt top has been waiting for my attention.  I had brazenly decided it wasn't a precious heirloom, it would be a perfect quilt for me to start sharpening my skill. It had been folded up for over 19 years.  Waiting. 

But then time and memories stepped in. 

Somewhere along the way my gaze fell on a beautiful block created by Caryn.  It was a simple pink print, yet over the top she had lain the softest lace.  My memory can't recall where she said it was from a wedding or christening gown.  Her beautiful signature nearby.  And time stopped for a moment.  Caryn has left this world, which is why I am okay writing her name.  She was such a beautiful, loving soul.  Ironically, of everyone on that quilt, she is the only one I ever saw after leaving Germany.  She is the only one that ever met my sweet Hubs. She was talented beyond belief. And her heart made her perfect to run the base Red Cross.  We'd shopped the streets of Frankfurt, Wiesbaden and Mainz in search of fabrics and supplies.  How could I not honor that with my best?

So many of the names stirred memories. 

I know a few have retired.  I'm sure a few more are still traveling with their careers or spouses.  And me?

I am living a very different life.  I am no longer the woman whose name is written on my row.  In name or life.  My world detoured in the most incredible way shortly after that quilt top was made.  I survived many things that changed me to my core.  I became me.  I found my dear Hubs, we created a life of love and beauty. 

Time is strange that way.  

I had been thinking of the past year and it's experiences as earth shattering, life changing, something that many might not survive.  As I have quilted those vines (at least that is what I thought I was creating - in keeping with the spring theme), the ones that everyone else seems to think are strings of hearts, I have paused, I have focused on trying to remember each of those women and their role and meaning in my life.  To wonder where they are, what changes and journey's their lives have followed.  

I have spent endless hours pondering my own life.  The shift, the reality change, the beauty of it all.  The pain that led to this life that I love and cherish. My old life wasn't bad.  It just wasn't right. I have wonderful memories and times to cherish.  The greatest of which is when it all changed. 

At the time (there is that word again) it was devastating, nothing was going to be right again, it was the beginning of an end that I could sense but not believe in. It was a painful moment in time.  

Time being what it is, it's not different than giving birth, horrid pain leads to an almost immediate case of amnesia.  As the beauty of what has occurred sinks in.  

I don't often remember that person.  The one that I was.  I am not someone that dwells in the past or lives much in the future.  I am a here and now person.  But the memories have been bittersweet and beautiful. 

My simply quilt top will be finished before long. The memories will be something to cherish and the quilt will be warm to snuggle under on a cool evening.  The lessons learned from stitching and tearing out the errors will last a lifetime. And the time of reflection... it's given me time to realize that what is happening now is just another phase of life.  

Another moment in time. 

out of the silence...

It's so quiet this morning.  The wind has died down to the point that the beautiful chimes out front are making a single tone that lingers until it completely fades.  My sweet Hubs is downstairs, he is "testing" listening to his television and doing some surfing.  I expect to still hear my chimes once he turns it on. 

Yesterday was a good day! Both daughters and a few of the grands joined us for lunch.  A late celebration of Hubs' birthday. He made his "world famous pork steaks" and I made a ton of sides that I could eat.  We had cake and chatted.  We laughed and spoiled the grands.  Seems all our youngest grand daughters love dum dum lollipops and each of them seem to delight in creating little bouquets out of them.  It was a day filled with simple stuff.  Memories. The way life used to be, meshing perfectly with the way life has become. It was lazy and busy all in one.  

And right in the middle of it, Hubs got the gift of hearing.  For the entire time I have known him, he's always said sit on my left, I can't hear so good.  I don't know if the masks have made it more obvious or if he finally admitted to himself that he was missing out on things.  In the past few months he's finally gotten his hearing tested.  The loss in his right ear was profound, the left, not as bad, but struggling to make up for the difference. 

He'd finally committed to getting hearing aids, especially after trying them in the doctors office. I can only imagine how it feels for him.  That is his story to tell and describe.  I am on the outside, watching the show.  And it is glorious to watch.  When he could hear our daughter, who speaks softly, at dinner his eyes lit up.  His smile absolutely sparkled.  You could tell that he no longer felt left out of the conversations.  In fact I might be a bit jealous, I sometimes struggle to hear her, I can't turn up the volume on my ears.  I might have to start asking him what she said. 

Throughout the day, I watched as he turned down the volume on the television, the radio in the truck, he talked softer, he smiled endlessly and even talked in the garage with our son-in-law and you couldn't hear them or the music in the house.  

The sparkle in his eyes, the smile that didn't seem to leave his face.  The realization that he was missing out on so many sounds.  Honestly, it brought tears to my eyes.  Sitting outside and sharing the experience of hearing the wind blowing through the branches for the first time since we have lived here. It was such a profound experience.  And again, I can't imagine what it much be like first hand.  

We took some dinner over to my sister, my niece and her husband, and of course got some snuggles from the newest member of the family.  She is precious and tiny.  She makes the sweetest little coos and she is so alert!  She was simply taking in this whole big wide world. 

The whole time I was snuggling her I was mesmerized by my sweet Hubs.  Who was sitting there watching television, he doesn't hold newborns - they don't seem to like him overly much.  The sound was low.  Where I usually watch it, and there he was watching the movie that was playing. He could hear all the conversations that were swirling around the living room and kitchen. I was standing in the kitchen when I asked if he was ready to go, I didn't have to raise my voice or yell his name. 

In the truck we did a minor experiment, normally the music is so very loud, it wasn't out of orneriness, he truly couldn't hear.  As he set the radio station at the level that is comfortable for me and could hear it perfectly I challenged him to raise the volume to the levels that he previously needed it.  I'm not going to lie when I say I was so excited that he had to stop long before we got there because it was too loud for him. 

I cannot imagine the beauty of the gift of hearing.  I want to understand.  I'm sure it is similar to when I finally was able to say my own name again.  The joy, the excitement.  The need to keep speaking was so strong.  I imagine the need to keep experiencing sounds in their pure clear form is quite the same.

To actually be told "sweetie, could you talk softer, you don't need to yell" in the truck yesterday almost brought me to tears.  One of the reasons I offer to drive often is so that I am to his left and we can have a normal conversation.  I could actually speak in a normal tone of voice and he could hear me perfectly. Not once yesterday afternoon did I hear him ask me to repeat something or to wait until I got in the room.

It was beautiful.  I can't imagine the frustration he was feeling.  I guess I can, I hated when I couldn't speak right and no one could understand me.  It made me angry, sad and I always felt left out.  I imagine my grumpy ole man isn't going to be so grumpy anymore. 

They are almost invisible.  You truly have to know what you are looking for to see them. Yet the power of those two tiny pieces of hardware in changing a life is immeasurable. Actually, in changing two. 

He's been downstairs of almost an hour.  I'm still listening to the wind chimes in the silence. Normally, I would be trying not to hear the movie, show or YouTube he was watching and cringing at the super loud parts. 

I am thankful for the silence.  I am a person that needs it.  I am beyond grateful that he can once again experience the depth of sounds around him.  He thinks he's been loosing his hearing since his forties, I will bet it is closer to his twenties when he proudly served his country in Vietnam.  It's no different than your vision or creaky knees.  It happens so gradually, that you simply don't notice.  Until one day... your arms are too short to read your phone, you struggle to climb the stairs or everyone is asking you to turn stuff down and you are asking them to speak up.  Getting older is hell.  But doing it gracefully is the way to go!

I am so excited for my sweet Hubs.  He will still need to learn to adjust and adapt to different settings and sounds.  But... he can finally hear everything!  He can enjoy the moment without struggling.  I am so happy!

If you could have experienced the pure joy on his face, the radiant smiles as he softly said "I can hear that" so many times yesterday.  You would truly understand how exciting this is.

I can only imagine!

a time of rebirth...

 

I can hear the rain outside, its falling steadily.  The thunder stopped a while ago.  I've been up since 330 am.  I don't know what woke me, but it definitely did not want me to return to sleep. I spent a short while tossing and turning. Longing for the coziness of my bed to draw me back in, when I realized my brain was awake and racing I decided to make better use of this gift of extra time. 

Yesterday I'd been deep in a meditation when my dear Hubs turned on the lights and brought me coffee.  Usually he is the first one awake, today was definitely the exception. I was enthralled with this meditation, I didn't know what to expect when I chose it, yet it drew me in so deeply.  So I was a bit bummed to be jarred out of it.  Even if it was for a good morning kiss and the smell of hot coffee, two of my favorite things in the world! 

Since I wasn't going back to sleep this morning and I knew that my brain definitely needed to be shut down for a bit... I reset that meditation, stretched out and lost myself for a full 30 minutes.  It was heavenly! When it was time to come back to "reality" I was actually reluctant.  The space that I'd wandered into mentally was so warm, deep and calming. I felt connected to the heavens above and the power of the earth below.  For that space in time I was completely focused elsewhere.  I needed that. 

I am fairly certain I will be relying on that particular meditation a lot in the coming weeks. I need that grounding.  I need as much grounding and centering as I can get.  My soul is definitely letting me know that I am entering into a period of time that will test me, force me to grow, a time that will force me to evolve.  Mentally, emotionally and physically. 

I find it odd and refreshing that so much is occurring at this time.  Spring is a time of rebirth.  Gaia is renewing herself.  Even sitting here now, in the darkness before dawn, I can hear the rain falling steadily, the birds chirping loudly as if they are calling out to make sure each of their family and friends have survived a night of storms.  Checking in. 

My check in circle is still very small.  Not much space to move around in, so to speak.  I'm still very much in my own space.  My energy and strength reserved.  I am not sure when or even if it will expand anytime soon. 

They say that change does not occur when you are content and comfortable.  It occurs when you encounter strong resistance.  It occurs when the current situation, feelings, thoughts, etc become simply too much to take. 

I am finding myself at a place that is forcing me to look ahead.  To explore, to plan, to experience other things.  

As Hubs and I are starting to think about the future ahead, what a life without our current careers could look like it's scary, exciting, invigorating and thought provoking.  I worry that we are both seeing things differently and I wonder how it will all come together.  

I am less of a risk taker than he is.  I also have less belief in myself than he does.  For almost 18 years he has had belief in my dreams.  He's pushed me, he's encouraged.  If you've read this blog for any length of time, you know that he almost bully's me into believing in myself, my talents and definitely my dreams. 

I am a person that thrives in the creative world.  If money had never been a reason, I would have forever been at home creating.  My interests jump and skip around.  Depending on the season, the amount of time I have, the needs of my family, and so many other little things.  I am not a spreadsheet, meetings, and more meetings person.  

Yet, this human experience has often meant little time for the stuff that expands my heart and soul and more time given to the things that give me less fulfillment, more angst and stress. That is the way it is for most of us.  Most of us, have bought into a narrative that involves an almost slavish existence.  We have allowed outside influences to direct our human experience.  Go to work to afford things.  Like things, work more for material things because the alternative isn't such a quick "fix".  To chase dreams involves sacrifice, time, a willingness to do "without" the things this modern world says we need. 

As I am standing toe to toe with some of these realities, I am trying to make smart decisions, I am being my usual cautious self. My precious risk taking soul mate is losing patience.  He is starting to be persistent.  Starting to force me to that risk taking space that he is comfortable in. 

This past weekend we went to Paducah, Kentucky.  One of my favorite spaces to be. I get lost in the quilt museum, the history of this wonderful town, and of course the Nice Rock Shop.  I found it's owner on YouTube last year as the world was shutting down and in a terrifying place.  As we were being forced to accept the dramatic change.  (Each of us has our own thoughts, feelings and beliefs around this event - I am not sharing mine).

I was blessed to be able to have a reading, well possibly two.  I enjoyed my time and conversation with Rowen so much, I felt encouraged and enlightened.  

I enjoyed my brief conversations with Susan even more.  I was so grateful to be able to thank her in person for the videos and messages that resonated so strongly with me last summer.  I'd excitedly bought her book a bit earlier in the day, I was very drawn to read it, as I carved out time in two days to completely read it I am even more clear as to why I was drawn to it.  It took me hours to work up the courage to ask her to sign it. 

Some of you don't really know or understand the depth of introvert that I truly am.  I have a mask that I wear for life, a persona that I am able to put into place to exist in life.  Yet something like that, is enough to make me physically ill. Again my sweet Hubs, my rock and soul mate, encouraged me. 

I waited until the store was slower, my daughter had just finished her reading and was gathering the large praying Buddha that she was buying for her home, when I asked Susan if she would sign my book.  I knew what it would mean to me, I didn't realize what it would mean to her.  Her beautiful smile as she rapidly grabbed her pen told me all I'd missed. 

With Hubs standing there we chatted for a moment or two as I spelled out my name for her. She quickly realized that I follow her on Facebook, the spelling gave me away I'm sure. She started to write and stopped. Told me I had gifts, I told her I did not.  Her laughter as she pointed to the air around her and said they are definitely disagreeing with you, made me smile. She asked me if I worked with animals.  That is when my smart ass kicked in and I said I work with people, so yes the two legged kind.  Wrapped up in the moment I didn't see Hubs had stepped away and left me in the conversation alone.  Susan seemed wrapped up in her own moment before she wrote in my book.

I can usually read perfectly upside down, but I couldn't make out what she'd written, so when she finished and said I have never gotten that message before I quickly asked her what message. 

"Be sure to trust yourself, we do... Arch Angels"... 

I have had many readings, I have deep faith in the things that we cannot see.  I often know things, I can't tell you why or how, but I know them.  So many times I have been told that I have many guides, ascended Masters and even Angels watching over and guiding me.  That I am strong, I am a leader and a teacher.  That I have many gifts if I would trust in them. 

Most of those things are not things I personally feel apply to me.  So that simple line felt like a jolt. 

All of it is so in line with where my heart is, where my steps are leading me. As I thanked her and accepted my book back, she said I hope you enjoy it, it's a bit weird.  Having followed her and met her, I already felt like she was my kind of weird.  Having read her book, I know she is!  I highly recommend "Voices in My Head: Firsthand account of messages from God" By Susan Edwards.

I have read every page.  Between her and Hubs... I'm feeling ready to start taking those next steps.  I am weary of not following my own path and beating my own drum.  I'm not ready yet to follow the path with wild abandon.  There are things to wrap up, finish and learn, but that path is forming in a more solid way.  I can see it forming from the mist in my mind.  I'm starting to feel the joy and desire to stroll down it, to become familiar with it, to experience more...