Sunday’s Song: Renewal

Today is the five year anniversary of this blog. I  just spent a few minutes looking back at previous July posts. I found my former self in the space of those days: the eager exhilaration of beginning something new, the devastation of learning my husband’s cancer diagnosis, the paralyzation of grief filled days, the determined plodding ahead.  

And this brings me to the fifth space. This year. This walk. How do I describe it? How have I changed? What is around the corner? 

Who am I today that I was not five years ago? Well, I am a widow. A grandmother. A theology student. A world traveler. A retiree. A small business owner. An activist. Those titles come fairly quickly. 

Who am I still? A mom. A writer. An artist. An independent woman. 

Who am I yet to be? Time will tell.

I feel a longing, a tugging toward something more. Something that involves writing, art, spirituality, helping a larger group. We will see. 

I know not to discount the power in putting one foot in front of another. I know presence has deep meaning. I know that for all the people who tell you that you cannot do something or be something, you are the one who ultimately decides.

A lot of good has come my way in recent years. I have had three different pieces of art accepted into nationally juried shows. Still, someone laughingly commented: Oh, it’s so nice to say I know a real artist. Truly, I have been an artist for decades now. It was only when my work was accepted by someone other than me that this person accepted this part of me. This saddens me. We limit people. We put barriers up with too many requirements. We don’t make the next move because we allow ourselves to be defined by someone else’s limited view. 

Don’t allow that to happen to you. 

Days pass quickly. I can still remember riding to Louisiana with my family for a summer outing five summers ago. I found a book on blogging that day. It was like a sign. And I began. 

The journey took detours, and I am sure more detours lie ahead. In the meantime, though, I re-affirm my decision to write. To create. To think independently. To live in this world as the person I am. And to witness to those who cross my path. To celebrate all they are and all they hope to be. 

We have power. We must use it. Our day will come. 💫

Friday’s Five

I am two days away from a five  year anniversary of writing this blog. Writing those first entries and wondering where they would lead… I did not picture myself as a widow, an activist, a world traveler, a theology student. Yet, here I am–all of these and more. We just never know what is around the corner. 

I have lived through many seasons, and I am still able to say I am grateful for so much. That is pure gift. Pure grace. Tonight, these five from the past week:

• Safe travel to and from Austin, where I spoke with a policy advisor and participated in a rally for public education, teachers, and retirees’ benefits.

• The realization that I am not afraid to stand up and fight for what is right, regardless of who stands with me.

• The awareness that when I am true to myself, the universe rises up to help me.

• The acknowledgement that I have a lot of goals to work on in the future and how happy that makes me.

• Knowing that difficult situations do not last forever, and when they do come ( because they will indeed come), to trust that a power bigger than me has my back. 

Listen to your heart and follow where it leads. Remember that you are here at this moment in time for a purpose. You don’t have to see the whole picture. Just keep pressing on. Peace. 

Friday’s Five

Sitting and listening to the mother of a dear friend. Thinking to myself: one day I hope someone will sit and listen to me. We really forget that the gift of presence is a thing. People need us to listen. Just listen. 

My granddaughter Sofia sitting at my grandfather’s desk. If I had to list a prized possession, that desk would make the list. I called dibs on it when I was a child and it lived in my aunt’s long hallway. All the nooks and crannies, the fold down writing space. I can tell she gets it. She moved her bowl of goldfish crackers to the edge and sat so proudly. A moment of realization–that I never knew my grandfather, but he seemed alive tonight. 

A text from a dear friend. She went to an exhibit where two of my art pieces are hanging. Her text was a gift of affirmation and caring. I think I’ll frame it for the days when wondering sets in. 

A lunch with two former colleagues. Sometimes we find dear friends in work hallways. They see us through hardships and celebrations. Today was a celebration. 

A book on art from a lady I met at a retreat two years ago. She received a copy and already had one, so sent the newest one to me. Thoughtfulness. Can we ever have too much? 

Simple moments, honoring life and those who cross our paths.