I found this long ago entry – 2010 – that I am reposting because I need to get to this place I have written about…it’s time.
It is Saturday day morning in late September and I sit here wanting to write something positive and uncomplicated – the way I would like my week end to be. I think of the quote my daughter sent to me yesterday, the one by Thoreau that says, “Go confidently in the direction of your dreams; live the life you’ve imagined,” and I am inspired. While hanging out sheets or mindfully making supper this week end and being still for a moment, I will think again of what my dreams are and try to clear the path that leads to them. Time is not waiting for me. I have realized that you need courage to follow your dreams because you must break away from the status quo and you must do as Frost says, take the other road, “the one less traveled by” – daunting for most. I have not, as of yet, left the beaten path and I fear I may not ever. Life has led me to responsibilities and routines that are necessary to maintain. There are times, however, when I see a clearing and an opportunity to wander into the place in my head where I have my dreams. I feel encouraged that one day I will step off of this predictable path that I am on and just be. The place that I am is a pleasant place, it is safe and enriched and all is well here, and for that I am grateful and thankful. This other place is just a place that only involves me – it is where I am and in time, I will find it. In the mean time, I will relish these days and the people I am privileged to share them with…
You have to leave the city of your comfort and go into the wilderness of your intuition. What you’ll discover will be wonderful. What you’ll discover is yourself.
post script: I have made strides towards my garden this past weekend. The actual garden is a soggy bed of dirt and weeds that I cannot do anything with right now, but I have started a new compost pile and now have three in various stages – one ready, one complete and cooking, and one just beginning. I am happy about this. It is fascinating to witness food scraps and leaves turn into rich fertile soil.
|my snowman from Berry Tales 🙂
I try to recall the details of early December of last year – what I was doing, what worries I had – funny, but I can’t remember much negativity. I know something was there annoying me, concerning me, but, I obviously got through it. This lack of recollection makes me think about time and its magical effect, its purpose, really. I think of the figurative concept of moving through time – it carrying you forward as it washes away the troubles and concerns, leaving behind the good stuff – like little pebbles on the beach after the tide rolls out – smooth and shiny and brilliant from a cleansing; that’s what’s left of December 2011. I think of the early days of last December and I feel happiness. The twins were about to embark on a wonderful journey then and I know I was filled with apprehension and worry, but now, I just naturally go to that place of happiness, omitting any negativity that was running parallel to the good stuff that went on and I attach myself to that state where I felt happy. Hmmm, those pockets of peace restore us and time protects us, perhaps time is Nature’s Prozac.
It seems time is a gift in many ways. It heals, we all know that – and it sometimes washes away the things that are not so pleasant, leaving behind those that are – those memories that we need to keep, the ones that allow us to go on in gladness, for we must go on. It’s built in, this spirit we have to move ahead, to get better and to look forward. Like I posted before, we all need something to look forward to, whether it is a big event like a graduation, a big move or just a simple moment like the green beans sprouting in the garden – something good to anticipate – that keeps us healthy and makes us happy.
I suppose time tweaks our memories a little – those days of childhood were probably not as gleeful as we “remember” but those “photo shopped “memories give us happiness now and what could be wrong with that? The bumps and bruises will all heal and fade away and , hopefully, we will all be left with a rich golden resin that was our childhood, one that we somewhat mimic for our children. Time is our friend.
I write this because it is nearly Christmas; it is the Christmas that you will reflect on next year and in the years to come. These moments are so fragile and so over anticipated and in 2012, so over done – Christmas has become the biggest retail extravaganza in the world. We have come a long way since the gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh; now it’s diamonds, Apple, and Mercedes. I hope we can all disregard most of that hype and understand that those things will most likely be forgotten; time will not keep a list of material things. It will, however, help you to remember the warm wishes, the still and cold night when you look up at the vastness of the Christmas sky, the afternoon spent in the kitchen with a child, the smell of cinnamon and evergreens, the macaroni ornament from someone’s first grade year, and the fleeting moments with the people you love. Time will only leave behind that golden resin that was this Christmas.
Confusing, that is how we can make life.
I just want to have lots of time to piddle – to go through the last 25 years and sort and frame and store and disgard and remember. I see how life goes so quickly and how we put cherished things aside like photos and friends and Easter bonnets and we stack them high and stash them deep in closets and up on shelves thinking we will get to it later and then later is 25 years and they have become the piles of our lives, the trail of bread crumbs that take us back. I am serious about tending to them. I have, by now, seen life begin and end and I know the time in between is short – I don’t need a quote by Emerson to remind me – I want to see about the piles I have left behind in corners so that the places up ahead can be my focus. Put things to rest and clear the path ahead… I want this but it may not be something I can achieve for time and sentiment burdens me. I know this about myself and constantly struggle with this conflict – I somehow know which part of me will win – it will be the soppy side of me that is left standing when it all is done. I just know that.
And I want to paint – just for the pureness of it and so that there is something on the wall to remind someone of me. Narcissistic? Maybe, but maybe just artistic?