Your very flesh shall be a great poem.
These seven or so weeks of 2015, unexpectedly, have been some of the most challenging of my life.
The monotony of doctors’ words. Too many days in bed. Friends, or people who I thought were friends, slipping away. All of it like kerosene on this fire.
I mend and break, then mend and break again.
And I mend.
As the rest of the country freezes, I look outside and see spring’s prelude; with temperatures unusually high, my daisies and tulips are emerging from their sleep ~ a reminder that while my mind, body and world will sometimes descend into a cold darkness, life truly is a faithful cycle of pause and renewal. Nature must regularly slow and endure the necessity of repose, and we do the same. With the gift of new chances and joy awaiting us on the other side.
In my few moments of light, when my mind and body are clearer, I create. I am painting. I am working on my novel again. I am doing calligraphy. My camera is no longer buried in my spare room. I look down at my hands and see paint and ink where perfect red polish used to be in my healthy days. And I love it, for how my priorities have changed and how free and new it makes me feel. And this is how I know, while few in number, the moments of light fiercely outweigh the dark ones.
And yes, while my heart has recently felt the wound of disappointment and lost friendship, I want to express my never-ending gratitude and love for my gorgeous mom and amazing husband, who continue to hold me up in miraculous ways. And to my amazing friend D, whose inspiration and belief in my talent and potential have never wavered in the face of my worst days. All three of you, and others I cherish as well, faithfully remind me of the love, bliss, peace and blessings that remain a constant. It isn’t always easy for me to see it.
“Thank you” feels so painfully inadequate.
Thank God for you.
Have a blessed weekend, everyone.
Once again, my absence here was much longer than intended; but in between periods of self care I have been busy enjoying the gloriousness of life~like spending time with my hubby, and in the spirit of spring, planting my new flower garden.
My need to bury my hands in the dirt has been exceptionally strong. In years past this was a job I shied away from, mainly because the unrelenting pain and fatigue to follow would be foremost in my mind, and more often than not it just wasn’t worth it. This year it’s different; my longing for color and beauty in my immediate space has overwhelmed me, and this has been a simple and inexpensive way to achieve it.
This precious project has been worth everything~worth every ragged, broken nail, worth the sweat, and yes, worth the pain and fatigue that is now keeping me in bed. Looking out my windows and gently stepping outside my front door, if only for a moment, is all the reward I need.
I am also moved by how my fuji apple tree is now coming back to life; not so much pride, but instead a comfort. When this tree came into my world it was a mere baby, nothing more than a stick emerging from a large pot on my father’s balcony. In the days following his passing it became mine, so its success is an emotional process for me. I know he looks down at how well it is doing and his soul is soothed and happy.
It is such a gift to stay connected in this way to the man who will always dwell in my heart, and in a way that mattered to him.
I wish you a pleasant and inspiring weekend, friends.