There’s a thing I don’t want to talk about, so I suppose it’s about time I try to get some words on the page. Words that are a reflection of where I’m really at these days, and why I’ve been so silent lately. Obviously, because I just moved to a new house in the last few months, part of the reason I’ve been quiet is because I was busy packing and unpacking. But the dust has more or less settled now, and without the distraction of the move demanding all of my attention, I can’t avoid that I’ve come up against a brick wall that has left me feeling very unsettled.
This move was a new beginning for me. A fresh chapter. A turning of the page. A chance to begin again. In that way, the move has delivered on the promise of a different tomorrow.
But, as is often the case, there is more to the story.
This post is long overdue, and yet I’m absolutely sure I’m speaking too soon. The intelligent and sensible part of me knows that sometimes the passage of time allows for an adjustment in perspective, and so it is that I’ve been patiently waiting for the clock to move forward. The days on the calendar are carefully spaced and orderly; my thoughts are not. Emotions are jumbled. It’s been a bit messy, and even though my patience is wearing thin, I still believe I’ll eventually find my way. At least I try to believe that, because the alternative is too uncomfortable.
I’ve been asking too many big questions lately, and the answers keep darting under shadows, and hiding under blades of grass, or I watch them get whipped away in the wind. I’m impatient to find something concrete that will point me one way or another, and yet the harder I try to understand, the farther away I get from knowing anything at all. I want to scream, or quit, or simply stay stuck in the empty space forever.
That doesn’t sound like a solution, but rather, illustrates my frustration. Perhaps the most frustrating of all is knowing that I’m perfectly fine, and doing okay, and yet I’m struggling to make sense of it all. A part of me knows that when I was under the gun about having to move, all my focus shifted to simply getting the task at hand accomplished, but now that things have settled down a bit … well … here I am … distinctly unsettled.
Everything in my brain is too crowded right now, and I’m finding it difficult to pick a direction. I want to say one thing, but speaking anything other than the truth right now would be a mistake. My physical body is in a good place, but my spirit is troubled. Very troubled. There is a solution; I simply haven’t stumbled across it yet. I suppose that means I’ll keep marking the days on the calendar, and watching the clock drag me into the future.
Today is my chance to live the life I desire.
You only get so many second chances in life.
I hope I still have a few in reserve.
“Patience – the gift of being able to see past the emotion.” Rodney Williams
“Lack of patience in small matters can create havoc in great ones.” Chinese Proverb
“Patience: To wait with certainty; the art of allowing life to carry you.” Chinese Proverb
Lots of news to share with you, but carving out time to visit is darn near impossible right now. Today I spent a bit of time visiting other blogs, and even commenting on a few, but what I really should be doing with my time is unpacking boxes. Which, of course, means that I’m creating a new blog entry instead … because, seriously, who wants to dig through boxes when there are words floating around in their head?
Me? Nope … I’d much rather be chatting up a storm, and sharing some of what is going on with me lately. First, the really excellent news. As promised in my last blog entry, I am writing to you today from under a new roof. (see photo at left)
If you’ve been following my blog for a while, you’ll know that last year was a particularly difficult year for me, (health issues, financial woes, family struggles … you know the drill … we all have the same issues, one way or another). Anyway, after being hospitalized for emergency surgery in late September and again in early October, I was also faced with a big challenge. Without spending too much time going over old history, I’ll put it this way … I was in a rental house that was falling to pieces, and the owner wouldn’t fix anything, and I knew I would have to move, but because I’m on a fixed income, and because my sister (who lived with me for several years) suddenly moved out when I got home from the hospital, I was stuck in the rental house (at a much higher rent in which I had to cover both her half and mine) for longer than expected, and was anxious to move ANYWHERE ELSE as soon as physically (and financially) able. Whew. That might be one of the longest sentences I’ve cobbled together in a while. In other words, I was in a pickle. No kidding.
So, there I was, stuck in a ridiculously high-priced rental house that was falling to pieces, and I was physically incapable of taking the steps necessary to move to another location because I was trying to recover from surgery (not so successfully, with several distressing set-backs along the way). Not to mention that I had zero financial resources to cover the cost of moving. The picture was pretty bleak. It seemed like the walls were about to come tumbling down around me, figuratively, and literally. I was trying not to panic, and trying to just focus my energy on getting healthy, and solving the problem.
My other sister, (the one that lives in another state and flew in to town to help me after the surgery), convinced me to try for home ownership. I thought she was delusional, nuts, cuckoo, and just plain insane in the brain. I’ve owned a home before … after saving my pennies for many years, and having a substantial down-payment, and shopping around for a really good bargain. That was many, many years ago, when I was still working in the corporate world, when my income was roughly six times what I’m bringing home now, and before I became medically disabled and unable to work, and before I was on a fixed income. There was no way that someone on a fixed income could qualify for a home. She had no clue.
But she kept hammering at me. As I was slowly gaining some strength and physical health again, I was desperately looking at rentals in my price range, and they were … how do I say this politely? They were hovels – wretched little broken down duplexes or apartments located in an unsavory area of town, where I was afraid to even venture out to view them, much less to make the decision to live in that area. Still, I was up against a deadline, and I had to find SOMETHING, and soon.
So I kept visiting every rental that popped up in my price range, and they kept getting scarier and more depressing every day. At the same time, I went ahead and invested some time in going through the motions of applying for a home loan, mostly to shut my sister up so she would quit hammering me with the all-too-familiar phrase “You can pay less per month on a mortgage payment than on rent, and come out owning your own home”. Dream on, sister. You just have no clue. You live in the land of freely flowing cash, where solving problems is as simple as opening your checkbook. You simply don’t understand what it means to live on a fixed income, and as happy as I am for your success, I really wish you could comprehend that in the world in which I live, the choices I make are about feeding me or the dog, or paying the electric bill or my auto insurance … and that certainly doesn’t include a mortgage payment in the process. Seriously, get a clue, and quit asking me to buy into a dream that can never happen. Those days are over for me. That ship has sailed.
I’m guessing by now you know how the story turns out. Lo and behold, just when I was about to throw in the towel, and either move to a very icky rental in an ugly part of town, or give up completely and move to another state (where my sister lives) so she could (forever and ever amen) more or less adopt me as her financially-broken-and-unfixable step child, I got the news that one of the homes I had looked at had come back on the market again, and what the heck, I took a shot at it, and ended up sealing the deal. Yes, really. She was right, and I was wrong. (it pains me to admit)
Of course, this was after being turned down by seven lenders in three states (the state where I live now, my sister’s state, and the state where I had always harbored a desire to retire). This was after bidding on several (eight? twelve?) different homes and losing the bid, or after winning the bid and losing the house during the inspection process. That was after adjusting my financial cap from one number to a much lower number, in order to qualify. And finally, that was after adjusting my preferred neighborhood. Turns out no homes existed in my price range in any of my preferred neighborhoods, so I had to accept that I would have no choice but to look at homes near, or in fairly close proximity, to my preferred neighborhoods, if I was going to have any chance at finding something suitable. And guess what? It worked.
Today I’m writing to you from under a new roof. Literally, and in every sense of the word. Turns out the home I was eventually able to purchase just happened to have a brand-spanking-new roof, as well as plenty of other upgrades or improvements. Realistically, it’s a bit smaller than I had hoped for, it’s not quite where I had hoped to live, and it doesn’t have some of the items that were on my “must-have” list, but guess what? None of that matters now. This house is mine, and (again), my sister was right. My mortgage payment is several hundred dollars less than what I was paying for rent.
Moral of the story?
Prayer, tenacity, and a willingness to suspend disbelief, all combined with plenty of hard work, does sometimes translate to reaping great rewards. And sometimes, even when I think I know better, I should pay attention to what my sister is saying to me, because … well … she just might be right. Or to be more precise, she was right, and I was wrong. Apparently home ownership IS possible, even for someone on a fixed income, because here I am, speaking to you from my new home. Turns out her encouragement, (othewise known as the droning and insistent voice in my ear), kept pushing me forward, mostly so I could prove her wrong, and in the process, I ended up living a dream that had died a long time ago.
Today my health is improving, the move is finally behind me, and I am a homeowner again. There’s no way I can be anything but grateful, and appreciative. I still sometimes shake my head in wonder. Today is a brand new day.
I hope it isn’t too bold of me to predict that 2013 will be a much better year for me. I believe it to be true.
Hope your year holds some unexpected surprises for you as well, and thanks, as always, for visiting today.
“Man is made by his beliefs. As he believes, so he is.” Bhagavad Gita
“The belief in a thing, makes it happen.” Frank Lloyd Wright
“Effort only fully releases its reward after a person refuses to quit.” Napoleon Hill
I have been wanting to post an update, but either I’ve been crazy busy while preparing for my move, or I’ve simply been uninspired or otherwise unable to write. I come to the computer expecting to speak to you, and then, the longer I try to put words on paper, the farther away I get from being able to say anything at all. Brick Wall. It’s like I have entirely too much to talk about, and there’s no point in even getting started, because no conversation would ever be enough.
Which means I’m going to have to settle for the Cliff Notes version:
I’ve been busy packing and preparing for my upcoming move
unfortunately, I’ve had some health set-backs that have slowed me down
- scary stuff, and exciting stuff, and worrisome stuff has been happening
- I’ve had to become comfortable with accepting help (again) … it should feel good, but it doesn’t
- as I’ve prepared for the move, I’ve reawakened the “organize with precision” monster
- seriously, my organizational skills are awesome … way beyond awesome, actually
- lists? I have so many lists that I can’t possibly keep track of them all, but they sure do help
- I’m so HAPPY that I will be moving within two weeks … I love looking at the calendar every day
- for some reason, my faith has been very shaky lately … and alternately, very strong
- I almost forgot to celebrate when I paid off my car note … first time in about 20 years with no car payment
- making plans for the future is causing my brain cells to collide against one another in a good way
We all have busy lives. We all have times in our lives when there is just too much happening at one time. As the moving day approaches, I am handling the process the same as I would handle any deadline … prepare in advance, organize your thoughts, leave room for unexpected delays, and never, ever, NEVER miss a deadline. It reminds me that way-back-when in the corporate world, I was known as a person who could be counted on to meet or exceed any deadline. Even the impossible ones. It sure does help to know that that person is still alive and kicking, even if she happens to be compromised by health issues, and a bit worse for wear. She gets the job done. Every time.
Which asks an interesting question:
What can you count on about yourself, that sees you through difficult periods in your life?
Thanks for stopping by for a visit. Always appreciated. The next time I see you folks, I’ll be under a new roof.
(that thought makes me smile … really smile). See you soon!
I’ve recently gone through months of what could more-or-less be called writer’s block, although technically, my physical body was also struggling with the ability to be at the keyboard. But the truth is, even if I had been physically ABLE to be at the keyboard, I would have had a hard time putting any words to paper. There was something that I desperately needed to talk about, and yet, despite the need, I simply couldn’t say a word. I didn’t dare. Nope. Not yet, anyway.
I knew it was important that before I committed those words to paper, that I needed to be clear about my intention, and that I fully understood that by giving them voice, I was allowing those words to live and breathe on the page, and to live within the world at large. I still haven’t written about this particular thing (and may, or may not, ever do so in the future), but thankfully, I was able to move past the desperation attached to it, and come back to writing.
It seems rather silly and mundane to say out loud, but one of the ways I was able to jostle my words back to life was by entering contests online. Yes, really. As I came back to being physically able to sit at the keyboard, I adopted a new routine every morning. As I was sipping my hot tea, or giving myself time to wake up to a new day, I would do an online search for any new contests that had popped up in which there was a cash prize of at least five thousand dollars. (Why five thousand? Well, I suppose it was because it was enough money to have a direct impact on my life, and because it would weed out all those numerous contests that are simply trolling for your identifying information so that they can flood your email with “special offers”. Of course, EVERY contest does this, but somehow or another the number five thousand seemed to present an acceptable risk-to-reward ratio, at least for me.) Anyway, I would find a new contest, enter the contest, and continue on my merry way, either answering emails, or surfing blogs, or finding other ways to distract myself.
For instance, one such contest was this one, in which an advertiser says “we are running a contest to give away $25,000 in cash and prizes, and in order to enter the contest, you will need to do three things: (1) register with our website, (2) provide your email address, and (3) answer one short question every day”. Quick, simple, and takes only moments to complete the task before moving on to another contest, or moving on to blog reading, or even moving on to walking away from the computer and getting back to packing more boxes for my move, etc.
Something unexpected happened, which was that in order to enter this particular contest, you had to answer that one question, which turned out to be a sort of writing prompt for me every morning. For instance, today’s question was, “Knowing that you’re fueling your body with nutritious foods like salad is gratifying. What other small-but-significant choices in your life do you find rewarding?” and my response was this, “When I allow myself the privilege of interacting with others in a way that is respectful and kind, it elevates my day, and just like eating a healthy salad, or choosing nutritious food to fuel our bodies, sharing kindess with others keeps us healthy.” Not exactly rocket science. Cheesy, even. But still.
Here’s where it really got interesting for me. The answer to the question can only contain 250 characters, so it became my personal challenge to respond to every advertising-prompt-related question with a response that used EXACTLY 250 characters. Thus began my daily foray into the “pretend you are writing copy for this advertiser, and make your response include a form of their question, as well as a nod to their product, but still manage to squeeze some truth into the response.” And there, in the world of make-believe and online contests, my writing muse woke up just enough to let the question that I couldn’t answer get out of the way, and made room for blogging and commenting again.
The world as we know it is strange and wonderful, and if it takes an online contest that will flood my email with unwanted advertising, but it allows me to begin the conversation again, then I suppose there really is No Contest. After all, my goal is healthy living, and in order to meet that goal, I have to remain engaged with others, and continue the conversation.
Thanks for visiting my space, and sharing a word. Always appreciated.
photo: http://www.gograph.com/ royalty free stock photography available for purchase
Today has been such an interesting day. Truly, in many ways. As someone who has lived with bipolar disorder for more than fifty years, I’m always a bit tempted to blame the “good days” on nothing more than a sporadic upswing of manic energy, and even though that may have something to do with my overall feeling of wellness and light energy today, I choose not to let that possibility subtract from the reality that today has been awesome. Spectacular, even.
First, I switched up my routine, and decided to greet the sun today. Anyone who knows me even a little bit will tell you that I am a dedicated night owl, through and through, and I am most definitely NOT a morning person. Grouchy mean face is what I usually see in the mirror every morning, but not today. Nope. Today I had much to accomplish in one day. I needed those extra hours this morning, so it was up at sunrise, or I wouldn’t have had enough day to meet my long list of tasks. I was extra kind to myself, since I was shaking up the routine, but surprisingly, I forgot to notice that it was much earlier than usual. I was too busy getting busy.
Later in the day, I met someone new, and he surprised me, and I was intrigued from the moment I met him (a young man I met during the course of my continued house-hunting exploration). We started off speaking about one thing, and it turned into something else altogether. From woodworking to photography to Judaism, all in one conversation. We probably could have continued on for a quite a while, but we both had other obligations. Such an interesting young man. Such an abundance of pure spirit, and intention. How refreshing.
As I continued working my way through my list of tasks, for a moment there I forgot all about sickness, or financial distress, or uncertainty, or fear. I was completely captivated by the urgency to “get things done”. From one task to the next, I just kept moving forward, knowing that if I hoped to accomplish what I needed to accomplish in this day, I had to stay on track and push through the temptation to loiter.
Well, that’s not EXACTLY true. I chose my moments to loiter.
I watched a child playing basketball in the street. He was much too small to be able to reach the hoop, but that didn’t stop him from trying, again and again. I watched a lady with five large dogs walking through the neighborhood, all of them straining at the leash, wanting to go in their own direction. Five leaders, and no followers. I watched the wind tickle what remained of the rust-colored leaves on the trees, and was surprised to already see new growth, green and vibrant, pushing towards the coming spring. The old and the new, next to one another, in harmony. I cranked up the radio, and actually really LISTENED to an old rock and roll favorite, (Sweet Child of Mine), and smiled at how it dipped me back to a time long gone by. I visited a few blogs, and absorbed the messages shared, and took the time to comment on a few, or to click a LIKE button. I inhaled the smell of freshly sawed wood, and allowed it to take me on a memory wave of happy days when building something (from nothing more than an idea in your head) filled you with a sense of accomplishment. I brushed the dog, and threw the monkey, and then threw the monkey again, and again. And I stacked stones, finally reaching that ninth level. I’ve been stuck on eight stones high for a while now, and today, I knew I was going to hit nine, and sure enough, that ninth stone hovered unsteadily for a moment, and then settled in and decided to enjoy the view.
Believe it or not, despite all the loitering, I managed to check every item off my list. I’ve already started a new list for tomorrow, but for now, I think I’ll go back to stacking stones. Who knows, maybe there’s a ten in my future.
“Appreciation is a wonderful thing. It makes what is excellent in others belong to us as well.” Voltaire, philosopher
“A smile is the beginning of peace.” Mother Teresa, humanitarian and missionary
“Reflect upon your blessings, of which every man has plenty, and not upon your past misfortunes, of which all men have some.” Charles Dickens, novelist
photo: taken by ntexas99, 021613, New Heights
I should start off by saying that I appreciate the emails and comments from folks, asking how I’m doing these days. It’s kind of hard to answer that question, without spinning in many directions at once. So, feeling a bit cowardly for doing so, I figured I’d take the easy way out, and put up a new blog post. It may not exactly answer the question, but at least you’ll see that I’m still here. Alive and kicking. And thanks for asking.
My body is mostly healed, and I’m able to physically do most of what I could do before the abdominal surgeries in September and October. The abdominal cancer is presently under control. I’m still in the process of trying to find a new place to live, and will be moving SOMEWHERE within the next 60-90 days. I’ve been incredibly stressed out by the uncertainty of the WHERE part of that equation. It doesn’t help that my finances are stretched beyond all comfortable limits, or that I’m wrestling with some internal issues that are overwhelming and decidely uncomfortable. Despite the ongoing turmoil, I’m doing what I can to remain positive and productive (most days, at least).
I’ve been lurking about quite a bit … reading blogs, sometimes leaving comments, but mostly just doing whatever I can do to try to distract myself from what is going on in my life, and in my head. I keep landing on a very slippery slope, so it takes some maneuvering to get myself back to solid ground. Thank you to all of you that keep putting content out there for me to get lost within. It helps, truly it does. More than you know.
I’ve also managed to find a few new discoveries along the way. In fact, not too long ago, I accidentally found myself here, where I eventually became entranced by the simple concept of gravity as an art form, and also as a form of meditation, or even as worship. I suppose that depending on your own circumstance, you can make of it whatever suits your own sine qua non for survival. Whether as an observer, or as a participant, you have the potential to gain something from the experience.
In any case, as someone sorely in need of patience and a calmness of spirit, I decided to give the art of gravity a try. It’s early in the process for me, but I can say that something about touching the rough (or smooth) surface, and asking it to balance precariously in a way that seems to defy gravity … well, it’s helping me to allow my focus to shift to something other than what is troubling my spirit these days. I’ll take that as a gift, and keep exploring this unexpected journey into patience and appreciation. Here’s hoping you find balance in your own life. As always, thanks for visiting.
“To appreciate the balance in life, you have to lose it every now and then.” Rod Williams, musician
“…simple curiousity has developed into therapeutic ritual…” Michael Grab, artist
“Adopt the pace of nature. Her secret is patience.” Ralph Waldo Emerson, poet and author
As is usually the case these days, I’ve been mostly absent from blogging. Every now and again I jump on and float around a bit, sometimes even managing to leave a comment or click a “Like” button, but mostly I stay huddled in the quiet, trying as hard as I know how, not to speak up or say anything much at all. I’m afraid I won’t like what comes tumbling out, so I figure it best to just let things simmer until I can find a better perspective. Hope I’m still alive when that happens.
Anyway, wanted to take a moment to share something I found via a Freshly Pressed link. This isn’t the blog entry that was Freshly Pressed (check out the January 10th post for that one), but as is sometimes the case, after landing in her blog space, I sifted and sorted my way through some of the archives, and ended up here, and was surprised at my reaction to this piece. I’ll leave it at this — sometimes, rarely, when we least expect it, we bump across something that sounds true. Even when we aren’t ready to hear it.
At another time, or a later date, I’ll be back with news on where I’m at these days. For now, just wanted to say that I appreciate each of you that have taken the time to share a kind word, or have sent some encouragement my way. I’m reflecting back to you my own wishes that your life is somehow bearable, and even, dare-I-say-it-out-loud, enjoyable.
I spent the day making one small change in my environment. Well, to me it’s a big change, but in the whole scheme of things, it is nothing more than basic geography. Moving from Point A to Point B. To be honest, for me, it represents much more, and I am ending the day exhausted, but content.
You see, I haven’t slept in my own bed since late September. That is when my doctor sent me in for a CAT scan, which resulted in me being immediately ordered to the Emergency Room, which further resulted in the first of multiple surgeries for abdominal cancer. Since then, my recovery has been slow. Much too slow for my liking, but then again, we don’t get to write every chapter in our lives.
When I was discharged from the hospital after the last surgery, I went home to a hospital bed. The sister that lives in another state had swooped into town, and had created a “hospital room” within my home. It was sterile and clean and antiseptic, just like the doctor ordered. She spent hours and hours scrubbing every surface, and meticulously installed a bevy of medical equipment, so that by the time I was discharged, the room was completely ready for me. At the time of my discharge, I was barely able to move, and had to walk with the assistance of a walker for every hesitant and wobbly step. My diet was strictly prohibitive, and I required all sorts of rehabilitative exercises and modifications. Bandage dressings had to be changed multiple times during the day, and fluid intake and output was closely monitored. Oxygen hoses followed me everywhere I went, and there was absolutely no bending or stooping allowed. It was clearly going to be a long haul.
When it became clear that I simply could not manage on my own, my sister was gracious enough to extend her stay an additional week. During that time she took excellent care of me, (although at times it was like living with a Drill Sergeant — but that was to be expected, especially considering that she owns her own business and is accustomed to being the one giving the orders). By the end of the week, she had arranged for me to have nursing assistance and housekeeping assistance, and someone to look after the dogs, and even someone to do the grocery shopping. She thought of everything, and took care of every detail. In a flurry of activity, she set it all in motion.
Let me pause for a moment and say that the expression of her love for me, through her actions, was not only startling and overwhelmingly a beautiful thing to witness, but it also forced me into the position of being the person that needed help from someone else, versus always being the one extending a helping hand. More on that another day.
Over these past few months, things have slowly improved. I practically danced a little dance, (if I could move with that much freedom, that is), on the day the hospital bed finally went away. Then the oxygen. The walker became more about stability as needed, versus a requirement. The nurse was discharged. The housekeeper, unfortunately, didn’t live up to her advertising, and was replaced. The second housekeeper was even worse. Little by little, I began the process of reclaiming some of those mundane tasks that we take for granted. Washing the dishes, or doing a load of laundry, or running the vacuum. The day came that I was finally able to bend my abdomen enough to pick up the dog dishes, and I celebrated the freedom of being able to be the one taking care of my dogs again. There were still plenty of things I could not do, but every day, and every week, moved me forward another notch. Little by little, I was gaining ground.
But I was still stuck in a temporary bed, in a temporary room, surrounded by too many pill bottles and bandages and too many rolls of sterile tape. As my body inched forward in my recovery, it began to yearn longingly for my own bed. If only I could lie on my side again. If only I could sleep without plastic pads and bandages everywhere. If only I could sink into the softness of too many pillows. If only I could scrunch down under the covers and get really comfortable. If only.
Today, I decided that I’m recovered enough to make the move.
Tonight I will be sleeping in my own bed for the first time in over three months, and I’m already nervously excited to take this next step in my recovery. It may be simply moving from Point A to Point B within my home, but it represents much more to me. It gives me the chance to be me again. I will put my head on my pillow tonight, and wake up tomorrow to the familiar sounds of my own personal space surrounding me again.
I declare this day a small victory. Yes, it took an extreme amount of effort to make the switch, (several loads of laundry, and the still very uncomfortable process of making a bed), but the effort expended was like making a deposit in my energy bank. It feels like I am finally reclaiming something that I wasn’t sure I would ever experience again, and even though it is something as insignificant as resting my head on my own pillow while I recuperate in my own bed, I expect that this will very likely help me as much mentally and emotionally and psychologically, as it will physically.
I didn’t exactly intend that I would do this on the first day of a New Year.
But then again, if we are to begin again, then what better time?
Today my blog journey took me in many directions, but eventually I found myself here, where I found this excerpt:
“My burden is weighty but it is not heavy. My burden brings smiles, but it is serious. My burden is for the weak as well as the brave, the young and the old. My burden is a gift, but also an obligation. My burden comes easily some days, but on others, it is a task requiring forethought and effort. My burden is light. To give light, to spread lightness, to spread lightheartedness and engender an airy feeling, an aura of optimism and possibility – that is my burden. I shall carry it gladly and with resolve.
How important it is to laugh, to feel free to create and explore and grow and make mistakes. All those great advances need light in order to thrive. Take away the light, the air of possibility – please do not – for then self expression, dreams and endeavors shall die, withering on the vine for lack of sustenance and light. For without light all things perish.”
I think it speaks very accurately about what happens when there is an awareness of our moral burden, and by its very acknowledgement of this burden, it also accurately reflects the phenomena that occurs when we are unable to employ the ability to visualize “the air of possibility”. It speaks deeply to my truth, reflecting both my interior sentiment that it is our responsibility in this world to bring light and joy into the lives of others; and yet it also gives space to my present inability to extend my reach beyond my own darkness. This place where I exist today — this quiet and unsettling silence — is mildly threatening and uncomfortable, and yet it also offers me some semblance of calm, and safety, and peace.
There is so much I would like to speak about today, but lately I’ve been convinced that it is best that I stay quiet, and keep my thoughts trapped inside my head, because I don’t wish to diminish my forward movement. I prefer to wait until my thoughts can be reassembled into a more accurate version of light. I don’t want my words to erase the air of possibility.
Today I am sincerely extending my best wishes to each of you in 2013.
May we all move forward into the New Year with the air of possibility fresh on our lips.
please take a moment to visit the blog of weed image of the day - I think you’ll enjoy what you find there.