Day 17,120: What I Weave

Coming back around to my first house in Virgo, my personal new year time is soon upon me.  It coincides with the annual abundance of tunnel spiders inside and behind the window boxes which we can view (much like an ant farm) from our living room windows.  Sadly, my husband and daughter loathe them.  They just don't get the message.

Spider is a totem for me and Jakk's Magic Beans Workshop (with its eight limbs of expression and service).  Spider reminds me to be awake to what I'm weaving.  What do I intend to offer through it?  What do I hope to draw to and from it?  There is a literal and my figurative "web" to consider here and lots of food for thought.

These are important questions year round, of course, but particularly significant as I repack my medicine bag for another trip around the wheel of the year.  Changes are obviously afoot.  Thanks, as always, for joining me on the journey.  I hope you find nourishment here.

Day 17,118: The View from Here

Our dining room is brimming with the fixins for our daughter's freshman year of college.  We aren't finished shopping, nor have we gotten around to choosing which of her clothes to pack.  All the while I'm thinking about how we had to take a class before we got married.  We had to take another class to prepare for her birth.  So where is the class to prepare for this transition?  I could use one right now, but without it will navigate my way (albeit with some clumsiness) on my own.

Last night, my husband (her dad) and I went out with friends who had just delivered their youngest child to college the day before.  Suddenly, the four of us found ourselves magnetically attracting other parents who had already dropped off their child(ren) at school.  There was considerable sadness and lamenting within the ensuing conversations to which I could not fully relate.  I arrived home feeling emotionally depleted and a bit guilty.

It isn't that my husband and I can't commiserate with how our peers are processing this experience.  This is our one-and-only child to be kissed goodbye next week.  But this impending separation is not permanent and, quite frankly, this transition is what we've been working toward as a family over all of these years.  As we see it, parenting never stops at a specific age or stage, nor will our home ever stop being available as a sanctuary to and for her.  We anticipate that it will all shift and flow along with her growth and needs. 

Don't get me wrong.  I am going to miss the day-to-day-ness of having her right here with us.  No doubt about it.  But my husband and I have done our job of lovingly raising her well to go forth with confidence and make her way in this world.  This is cause for celebration rather than lament!  I choose to approach the future with a sense of joyful wonder and deep gratitude.

Yes, I know that there will be days ahead when I shall grieve the lack of her sweet face in front of me, but I know in my heart that we are always connected and she is just a text, Face Time or Skype session away.  Visits and breaks will always be on the horizon.  I just can't help but look forward to how our relationship as mama and daughter will evolve over time and I am eager to see what and who she becomes through this experience and opportunity.  Also, with unapologetic selfishness, I must confess that I'm curious what the next chapter of marriage has in store now that we have this opportunity to rediscover each other.  Curiosity is good.

In conclusion, sad?  Okay, perhaps a smidge.  But mostly (and immensely) proud ... of her, of us ... and excited ... for her, for us.  There is so much more to be gained here than lost and I, for one, can't wait.

Day 17,106 Gratitude

Our first visit to this sleepy little town south of Daytona was back in May 1996 when we convinced ourselves that we could afford our first family vacation.  My husband's aunt was a real estate agent around here and found us this great oceanfront condo that we could swing for a week's stay just barely off-season.  It was a stretch of both our budget and parenting abilities with a wee one.  We had no idea at that time that we would keep coming back to this condo almost every summer for the next 16 years.  It's been a heart home for a long time now.

The not-so-wee one will leave for her freshman year at college in the next few weeks.  We are basking in the sunshine, many happy memories, and this sweet family time together before she goes.  For this visit to New Smyrna Beach and every precious visit before, I am so very grateful.

Day 17,101 Gratitude

My Facebook pal, Janet Goldman, posted this today.  I love the message.  It's important.  I think most of us are prone to some measure of hiding our true, unedited self.  It's human nature, I suppose.

Thankfully, the older I get, the weirder I become.  Much more random, as well.  And to the degree that I can know myself, whilst ever learning, stretching, transforming and expanding, I try to bravely (and sometimes brazenly) be it, all of it, as openly as possible.

Not so long ago, I was inclined to hide all but what I thought was my most presentable self.  Sometimes, in certain stressful situations, I am inclined to revert back to that habit.  I never really gave much thought to how I might not only be cheating myself in doing so, but cheating others as well.

It's not just about love, as per the message above, although, yes, that is important.  But also we never know who might be inspired, served, and quite possibly saved by the person we hide.  Just a thought.  And that thought makes me feel grateful today.  Come on out and play!

Day 17,100 Gratitude

Today I am so grateful ...

That I am less than a week away from my family's annual pilgrimage to the sea.  This long, hot summer has me feeling crispy and cranky.  There's been a lot on my plate and mind.  Sometimes the only thing left to do is to cast the burden of it all on Mama Ocean.  Sand and salt water are good medicine, as can be rum and pineapple juice (in moderation, of course).  I say yes to all of it and in communion with my family expect to soften and relocate my sorely missed sense of humor. 

That sometimes a doodle will do.  I lamented over my last sketchbook journal which was so heavy on writing and light on anything artful.  My current journal has picked up where that one left off.  Although I would love to sketch something every single day, the circle-turning, hand-wringing and nail-biting that preface the act are a deterrant.  I know it doesn't have to be that way, but for me, at least for the time being, it is what it is.  A doodle for me doesn't carry the same weight.  It's freeing, the way that I hope sketching will one day be for me.  I'm just glad that I have filled a page with something other than words.  It's a good reminder that there are a thousand different ways to express whatever is on my mind.  I'm quite partial to any way that lets me do so with color.

That no matter how much time passes, I always find myself back here.  Whole-hearted.  Grateful.  And, as always, so grateful for YOU too!

Of Puppets, Playfulness and Pals

Despite the fact that I am still processing Taos and its myriad tales, it was time for me to travel again.  Not many people in this world can say that their BFF is a puppeteer, so I consider myself to be one lucky duck.  Likewise, she considers herself incredibly fortunate to be working alongside (literally) Kevin Frisch of Frisch Marionettes. 

Kevin and Amy are just past the middle of two weeks in Roswell, Georgia for the 2012 Roswell Summer Puppet Series.  I treated (i.e., shamelessly invited) myself to spend a long weekend hanging out with these very talented and hard working artists and was graciously given a behind-the-scenes perspective of their production of Rumpelstiltzkin.

Every show was pure magic.  Their dedication and passion was clear to one and all, not only during the presentations but well before and long after.  It truly warmed my heart to hear the children respond to the story, the music, the antics, and to know that it all served to fuel their imaginations in a world otherwise bent upon distraction. 

I am now back home in Cincinnati while Kevin and Amy prepare to present Hansel and Gretel all week.  The little girl in me has stayed behind to sit quietly, wide-eyed and cross-legged, beside the stage.  The grown-up in me must get back to my own work in this crazy world ... but, hopefully, with a bit more playfulness than before. 

Thank you, Kevin and Amy, for letting me pal around with you and the puppets for a few days.  And thank you, Roswell, for your hospitality, tacos and pie!

Taos Tales #1

From what we could see between the trees behind the pigeon houses at Mabel’s, all signs indicated an amazing sunset was afoot. With little time to spare but our ability to expand it in our back pockets, we took our chances and launched ourselves down the highway. Stop here? Nope. Here? Hurry! How about here? Back out. Further south. Such was this a metaphor for life, we can only know where when we get there.

We stealthily tucked ourselves into the dusty entrance of the abandoned Stakeout just as the horizon caught fire. Passing cars pierced our ears like screeching jets, but then the reward of stone silence. Between us and this sunset, amongst the darkening brush, disappeared the dangerous abyss of the Rio Grande Gorge, melting into a boundariless blanket of moonless black.

It’s not just witnessing the sunset along an unobstructed desert horizon that will change you, but having the fortitude to stick around and behold the aftermath of it. The light fades. The colors mute. But the subtle beauty of what remains will hang in the air with the scent of sage every bit as long as you are willing to stick around for it. Nothing ever goes to waste.