How autocorrect attempts to correct the word snaggle
It is not snuggle, although I’m thankful for that as well
How one grandchild solemnly said Thank you, Mother Earth after collecting empty bean pods from the ground to use in her play…and how her sisters chimed in, Mother Earth echoing in the world they create here, away from the “other world” so close by
and this leads me to remember the young ones who used God as She and Her and how sooner or later we are all corrected—all along the way—when maybe in fact we really do know and like auto-correct, we sigh and roll our eyes and continue…
How everything does not have to be corrected
And this reminds me of my current textile exploration/practices where mistakes are welcome and the only rule is leave them in
and it makes sense to me
and I celebrate the knowing of all that does not have to be perfect or understood
…
and the moon is full and the jonquils are giving us new iterations daily
And somewhere someone thinks of us as we think of them
and
some among us are suffering and struggling and trying to continue and in that place, those days, we have an opportunity to provide welcome and blessed peace.
I hope you are able to recognize the need before you this week, and offer a simple smile. May you be well. May all be well.
I’m writing to you from a covered patio today…it is a warm and breezy 75 degrees…and I am enjoying some Sunday afternoon solitude and re-set before I complete this day’s tasks. This is a favorite spot, but I haven’t allowed myself time in a long time to sit here and take in the sights and sounds. I spent a lot of hours here during the early days of the pandemic, and this is where I relearned how to listen and notice, or where those traits grew deeper. I still forget to use those gifts some days, but I know they are available.
I’m reminded of Saint Francis de Sales’ words:
“Half an hour’s meditation each day is essential, except when you are busy. Then a full hour is needed.”
The wildflowers look like a dusting of snow today. A woodpecker has been announcing his presence for weeks. I spotted him once at the backyard feeder, but he’s here, too…just letting me know but not telling me where exactly. It’s enough. I may have to make the short walk to the car and put on my driving glasses. His pecking sounds louder and closer.
I have seen a monarch and a nameless white butterfly this past week. See the jonquils are still blooming…not as prolific as some years but still a burst of sunlight in clumps here and there.
Now the geese have moved in closer, but they will have to make do with the abundance of natural food I see they are finding. Seed is poured once a day, and generous grandchildren already more than provided today’s meal.
I see wild pear dotting the trees around the pond. The pond is high after recent rains. Deer tracks present on a nearby levy. The raised bed needs zinnia seeds. Soon, I hope to make good on that.
A lot needs doing before this day ends, but this is time I am quite sure I won’t regret spending. Never have. De Sales knew it. I know it, too. 🌟
Take some meditation/solitude/awareness time for yourself this week. Let nature do her work on your soul. ❤️
Beginnings of buds and blossoms and blooms and a post from a local nursery saying geraniums have arrived. Oh, just in time. 🌺
A jonquil picked and wished upon and thrown into a creek as an offering of sorts by a much loved child …who knows the grandeur of wishes and imaginings and yes, results 🤞🏼 that surely are on the way.
Vitamin D in all its forms ☀️☀️☀️
A birthday celebration for youngest grandchild … he won’t remember it, but we will…the balloons and breakfast and cozy pajama-ed attendees. The laughter and music and dancing throughout the house. The love.
This baby was born in a real blizzard two years ago. One for the record books. But this day, two years later, was cloudless and clear. Brightness always returns. ☀️
Celebrate all you can, dear reader. Don’t deny yourself that in this upcoming season of Lent that most associate with denial.
Why not greet it with a kind of glee? Oh, I know why not, but knowing the God who gives us far more than we deserve continues to make good come for us when we watch with patient believing…kind of like a kid with a jonquil. Pick the flower…offer it up…keep walking on the hopeful way. ❤️🙏🏼☀️💐
If not with glee, at least with no glum faces, dear believers. 😉
Wishing on a jonquil … an offering
Finally, if you are the praying kind, please offer one up for a (dear to me) lady known to me as Mimi. She’s in Hospice now, so her journey home is near. 🙏🏼 She’s lived a life that few could believe…a truly good and generous woman. One who embraced me as her own through many years and whose absence will be felt deeply by all who know her.
Week 3 of Advent greets us today. Its theme is joy.
Week 3: the rose candle. Joy. (framed art by Dean Lynn)
How do we find joy in this world? Well, we open our eyes and acknowledge the longing of our hearts. Then, we act upon that longing and joy arrives (or reminds us she was with us all along).
As we wait for an infant to appear in the cradle, it might be easy to get distracted because of all the things that pull us away from the meaning of the season.
Everything seems sped up in December. The clock seems to tick faster. But, we can choose to step apart. Even for a few minutes…
This week, I hope you will step apart from the hustle bustle for a moment. Remind yourself what you love about the season. Or, if that’s too hard, what would you like to love? Desiring is enough.
A student told me this week that she had no traditions to recall. No one arranged joy for her as she was growing up. No one set that stage.
That led me to think about all the small ways we might attempt to bring joy to others, not just in this season, but all year.
Seven ways I found joy this week—-some was given to me; some I decided to go find…
A baby boy hollering oohloo oohloo when I came by—I was still out of sight, but he heard my voice and I heard his. 🌟
A class full of exuberant high schoolers on our college campus posing for pics at a park nearby and reading their original sonnets as they stood in front of white lit trees…the park service gave us the backdrop and we took full advantage. 🌟
Wearing the fancy Christmas boots my cousin gifted me years ago…so many smiles and laughs and happy moments associated with those boots—-proof again that one effort leads to so many connections. This season, the security guard at my school was overcome with joy upon seeing those explosion of Christmas boots. See? People on the search…give them something to see. 🌟
A college student’s pencil scrawled note at the bottom of a paper: Thank you from the bottom of my heart. ( I will keep that one for so many reasons…) 🌟
Red berries and pine and the walk that led me to Christmases past and a deep gratitude for all the ways people in my life have made efforts in front of me. 🌟
A gift bought and wrapped by a granddaughter with strict directions to place it under my tree until Dec 25 🌟
Finding myself in the small town of Hope, AR meandering in and out of antique shops. Looking at the beautifully decorated window displays, realizing I was singing carols…because the stage was set for me. Someone decided to make arrangements for joy to arrive. 🌟
The student I mentioned earlier? She had listened as a young mother was excitedly talking about traditions and plans for making a happy day for her 9 year old (even after two tragic family losses recently). She told us I want that kind of joy in my life. I missed out on all of that.
And we told her it is never too late. Create the joy you want for yourself. Defend it. Be quiet and ask your heart what it needs. Act on it.
Maybe it’s a new strand of lights. Maybe, like for me, it’s walking down country roads looking for pine and holly and winterberries. It is realizing I love that time because someone did it for me or in front of me for years and years, before I even realized it was joy in disguise.
It is knowing once you have it, you desire it again. And, you will find it when you decide it’s time. And, you know, but joy is not happiness. Joy has nothing to do with circumstances. It lives in us, and even when we feel or seem as empty as that cradle, we know there is a space and we know what it can hold. ❤️
If you reading this are/were lucky enough to have someone in your life who tried to create joy or an atmosphere for it for you, I hope your heart knows it. I hope it is the envelope in your heart’s file that you reach for and all light spills out for you this season. 🌟
Thanksgiving has come and gone, and now a lot of us are trying to get ready for the next holiday. The season of hurry hurry has come again. This year, I’m trying to set a few minutes aside each day for ritual and renewal.
It’s the first week of Advent, and while I am not going to get into the history/deeper meaning of that here, basically it means we are four Sundays away from Christmas.
That fact alone can make some uneasy. What? Only four? So much to do. So much has to happen in our worlds so that we are ready. All the things, all the time.
But maybe, we are already ready. We are not surprised by Christmas. It’s the same date every year. Maybe we are surprised by ourselves. How we need to change some things. How we let so many people and situations and errands and fill in the blanks take our focus away from the real reason we celebrate.
Waiting…Week 1
Will lighting a candle help that? I have no idea. It seems a better choice than some other options.
I’ll try to be here each Sunday of Advent with a reminder for us that the weeks pass quickly, but there is time to honor the fact.
This week, I light the candle for seven good reasons:
Safe travel of family
Children as tour guides
Texts and photos from friends from afar
Leftovers in the fridge and homemade tamales from another busy mama’s hand to mine
Someone wanting my address which means snail mail is coming in this sweet season
Hot glue guns and tinsel and paint and paper
The Grinch who sits on my altar this year. It seems that far too many among us strive to dampen the sparkle and shine of the holidays. Pray for them. Let God handle the Grinches. We have to conserve energy for the reality that what we bring to the season is not about them, but it is very much about us.
So. If you are digging a box out of storage or trying to match up lights or thinking about a child’s eyes on Christmas Day, you really don’t need my prayers. You’re already on the right track. But every now and then, take a moment to see how much you’ve already done. And how much the Giver of All has done for you. Then, start again with peace.
The reciter is eight years old. I have not seen her in a few years, but I was traveling for work and was able to meet up with her mom and dad and her for a lovely dinner and conversation. I was expecting a hug (received multiples ❤️) but I didn’t expect her mom to help her learn this lovely poem to recite for me. Sweet sweet sweet moments.
Power in people. So much, it takes my breath away at how time spent with real presence (yeah, I mean no devices, no extras, real conversation) is not the norm these days, but I cherish it when it happens.
And now, away from that dinner together, I see the red tables, the trees swaying with a much desired AR breeze after a day of rain, the stacked rocks on a tree branch that became a topic of conversation. I see Mirren drawing blue ants crawling up a colorful tree while we waited for dinner. I see her parents’ bright smiles and I know their lives are hectic, too…but they made time for me that night. I don’t know when I’ll see them again, but the memory of them is with me now. And I am grateful.
Many people enter our lives here and there through the years, and it’s so good to be able to connect the dots as time goes by. Reuniting with friends is a beautiful gift.
Other gifts this week: spending time with each of my grandchildren. Seeing the unique talents and presence each of them brings to the world: laughter, paintings, stories, signs.
I have some new art to display thanks to them, and a few toys that are still scattered, reminding me of this full and joyful life.
Also—traveling safely to and from the curvy swerve-y roads to Fayetteville, AR and back. The scenery is lovely, but those roads…mercy. I thought of friends who I won’t see again in this life as I passed through their old hometowns and stomping grounds. Even though they’ve gone, a presence lingers and sends that important message: live now.
I met some new people this week and that, too, was gift. Lots of conversations and connections and ways to be hopeful in the days to come.
As I write this, my 8 pm alarm is ringing—my sign to stop and pray for my children. ❤️
I’ll end with them tonight. I spent some precious time today talking with them around my den table—one in person and one virtually. Once again, busy people finding time. A lot to celebrate in that. 🌟
Go celebrate your life this week. Offer someone your presence. ❤️
Happy Father’s Day to the guys among us who make our lives richer and sweeter. I had a good dad, and my children did, too. Now I get to witness my son as a father, and it is truly beautiful to watch a father love his children.
I’m writing to you today from an Airbnb in Amsterdam. Still grateful to write sentences like that one. I am listening to street sounds, distant laughter and snippets of conversations. It’s past a normal bedtime, but holiday time is a different time right now. 
A few days ago, my daughter and I were in Copenhagen, a first for both of us. We wanted to go somewhere we’d never been, and the place and people did not disappoint.
Travel is such a reset time for me, and I realize how much I’ve missed being among different people and seeing new places.
My journal is filled with impressions, phrases, sketches, ephemera…all the ways I try to keep memories alive for future days.
I have lots of stories to tell, lots of people to recall who have crossed our paths for just a little while, and some who amazingly, we met again… like an artist from 7 years ago in this city. She was at a different market then, but after my daughter bought her art today she realized the marking on the packaging was one she remembered having. Sure enough, she located an old photo ( thanks technology) and today we greeted her once more. The world is gifty like that. 🌎
And, sometimes I get to continue traditions that matter to me. I passed a “hidden church” this week and lit a candle for all of us: all who read these words, all who read other words I write. All in my universe…
and even there, in that quick random space, a stranger greeted me, gave me something, said words I’ll always remember. And that is why I try to use this space for good things…
because we are in a world that contains much of it…be awake. It’s coming to you, too. ✌️
I’m in a different routine this particular Sunday, so my greeting to you is coming earlier than usual. As I was journaling early this morning, I started thinking about surprises…and that will be the focus of this list today. 🧚🏼♀️
When was your last real surprise? Did it rely on someone else’s actions, or was it more internal…a real knowing of sorts?
The natural world is filled with surprises…
A bird’s intricate nest
The hole that the honeybees return to each year
The iris about to burst out of their bud-rooms
Not surprises to them, of course. They know what they’re doing 😉…but sometimes we are caught by surprise when we dedicate time to look, to watch, to savor.
Sometimes the surprise isn’t of the natural world…it is that simple amazement when things line up for us:
the random text
the unexpected note of appreciation
The lives we live unfolding in chaos or flurry or wonderment (or all)
Sometimes I say Well, I guess I’m doing this now and that can apply to the salad that falls from its precarious angle in the refrigerator to a messy heap onto the floor,
or to the prolific (for me) amount of large canvases lined up in my hallway awaiting a new art show,
or like yesterday when I hit “submit” on a computer keyboard and a rush of deer walked out in unison and I knew, I knew they, too, were witnesses to the good in life.
Sometimes surprises are not as obvious as a crowd of deer coming to greet us, but they are there…simple decisions that turn out to be moments of wonder and simple joy:
This day I’m not celebrating the same way as I have some bigger Easters in the past, and the gift and surprise of the holiness in that is its own surprise:
A long burning candle is lit for all of us today, and as I see it throughout the day I’ll utter these simple words and hope they land for whoever is reading this:
I know Sundays are really thought of as the beginning of a new week, but I often think of them as the opposite…closing the door on a few days and getting ready for what is next…a winding down day of sorts.
I hope you’ve found some reasons to celebrate over the past few days. I surely have.
My daughter celebrated a birthday …
My son and I spent a full day together …
Art I created is hanging on a beautiful museum gallery’s wall in Shreveport until May 8 …
There were walks in solitude and in the company of others …
There were wildflowers and children picking flowers and trees bursting into bloom …
There were sweet conversations and affirmations …
There was love.
That’s a lot.
Before I write here again, I’ll be celebrating a birthday. The numbers on the outside get bigger, but inside they really don’t seem to…and I’m grateful.
I wish you the abundance of good I’ve seen this week and the realization that it matters that we acknowledge it.
Obviously, there is a lot wrong in the world today. As I go about my days trying to look for the good, I realize how very easy it is to find it. I could be in another human’s place in a war torn country. Yet, here I am.
A full moon shone in on three of my grandchildren late last night. It had been a busy evening of playing and dinner and teeth brushing and potty patrol and finally, quite late, all were sprawled, sleeping peacefully in my bed. I, too, slept peacefully, without worry of bombs. I’m aware of how that sounds, but it’s the truth. So many of us enjoy such abundance. Does it matter that we recognize it? Doesn’t a Ukrainian grandmother deserve the same freedom and privilege? Don’t her grandchildren? Don’t we all?
Until the day comes when we can all live without fear of evil, my power is in paying attention to my life. In honoring the days and moments. In noticing the gifts.
News reports show a lot of tragedy, but they also show spirit and resilience and art and music and care in the midst of great danger and harm. I’m grateful for people who know one act of defiance is to carry on. I honor the Ukrainian people here tonight with their great and powerful spirit.
Other good things to note:
Time spent digging in the dirt this week, with some eager helpers…
Maya Angelou quarters found their way to me, finally. I’ve been searching my change for weeks. Haha. But it happened. And I’m glad I care about it…
Quiet solo time spent on the patio. It was a daily refuge early in the pandemic, but I rarely spend much solo time there lately. This week, I did, and was rewarded with a woodpecker concert. The beauty of nature. How much goes on that we miss…
Coffee with a dear friend this week and the gift of catching up on each other’s lives in real time…
My daughter’s birthday is this week. We won’t be able to celebrate it in person, but I’m thankful for her, her life, and her care for the world…and I hope her new year is filled with goodness and light.
It’s a gift to wish people well, to honor them, to support them, to be present with them. I recall author Ray Bradbury’s words: “We are here to witness and celebrate.” We are.
I’ll stop with that thought: let us witness and celebrate during the coming week. And pray for peace.
A blog reaching out to victims of abuse and others in need, providing insight about abuse, hope for the future, and guidance to see THE LIGHT that lead Secret Angel out of the darkness of her own abusive situation and helped her to not only survive but to overcome.
agnestirrito 