The dishwasher rumbles along, cleaning the breakfast dishes. Sweet Frank fixed bacon, eggs, wheat toast with apple butter, hot tea … comfort foods.
I’m recovering from having 3 crowns at the dentist on Friday, and Frank is taking precious care of me. This is life.
The sun shimmers through the green leaves outside the kitchen window. I’ve moved away from my sweet cottage, created some really nice artwork over the past few months, and spent days completely wiped-out and resting a few weeks ago … as my spirit lifted everything … . every . thing . off of me to allow space to integrate all the growth, the challenge, the hard work, and the new loves of these past months.
Life.
So many times I’ve wanted to write. I crave writing … the writing that you’ve known from me, that which comes from deep in my heart. Writing that insists on honesty.
Now I am an entrepreneur. It doesn’t change my heart. It doesn’t change who I am. It doesn’t change how brutally honest I want to be when I write.
What it changes is expectation.
I resist writing because vanity tells me that you’re expecting something from me which I cannot deliver. You are expecting that I am a finished product.
From my perspective, I can sometimes tell myself that now that I own a business, you might think I’ve got it all figured out. You might think that I’m perfect (yeah, that’s a funny one, right?) … that I’m no longer a student, but now I’m just a teacher.
I’m finding it quite the opposite … a student … now working on an advanced degree in life. Now learning lessons more deep, more life-changing than I could ever have predicted or anticipated. Life lessons that support my journey, and my ability to support others.
This journey feeds me … it always has.
I go to work. I paint, I collage, I offer Healing Touch, I create and re-create a method for dealing with paperwork, I do my best to keep up on social media, to work part time for NC State, to be a wife, a mother, a daughter, a friend. I do my best to keep up with all of you … sometimes successfully, sometimes failing miserably.
We follow our dreams, we get to the other side … where we run the risk of finding grass that isn’t as green as we thought it’d be, or at the very least, it’s a different shade of green … and that’s perfectly okay. Perhaps, instead, we find yet another mountain to climb. Perhaps we find an enchanted forest … paths of moss and pine needles, begging to feel our bare feet. Perhaps we find that we lay down in fields full of wildflowers, complete with sunshine, burrs, briers, and itchy bug bites.
There is no perfect, love … there is just the next step in the journey. Take it. Follow your heart.
Many times I’ve told you, my dear reader, that the only thing I can promise you, is change. Know that this is still true.
If I weren’t such a curious soul, perhaps life would be easier, more predictable … smooth sailing with a constant gentle breeze.
But I am a curious soul … my guess is that you are, too. So that means that sometimes the sun gets too hot. Sometimes we stir up a lightning storm that kicks our ass. Sometimes we find a quiet place to sit and wait for something magical to happen. Sometimes, all is well … we stand in the moonlight, and there is nothing to figure out.
It’s life … the life we choose.
It isn’t perfect. It’s the next step. Take it.
With a heart full of love, dreams, and moonlit wishes,
Love,
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