“Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky.”

― Rabindranath Tagore

The last few days have felt like spring. I wake to the sounds of new birds out the window, wondering if the weather confuses them as it does me. The gardener in me wants to get out a new pair of garden gloves and dig in, but I have lived long enough to know that February is after all, still winter.

One evening I stand gazing out the kitchen window as the sky turns pink, watching as the vibrant colors find their way into our yard and our home. The colors are so vibrant even he notices, joining me in the kitchen to comment. I think about the week or so of winter weather we had a few weeks back and wonder if that was it. Our seasons are shifting and our weather patterns have no other choice but to modify.

Today we are gathering with our kids to celebrate his 70th birthday, which is coming up soon. There will be pizza and yummy chocolate cake, baked by me, just for him. Something I have not done in years. Lately I feel myself relaxing into this next season of our lives with less animosity. Finding it easier to adapt to the changes growing older brings with it, and looking instead at the privilege of it all.

Wishing you beautiful sunsets, no matter what the weather.

Just write, the experts say; write by hand,
 let the words flow, don’t edit, just write, 
get a beautiful journal and find the perfect pen,
 and write. . .  


I reach a point where writing by hand is physically painful, the flow of the words 
slow and labored.

I start a journal on my computer
 but wonder. . . 
is it the Hamburger Helper of writing? 
So I keep at the beautiful cloth journal, but the entries are 
scattered and brief.

Sporadically I open the pages 
on my computer and write, and watch as the words flow 
openly and free across the white pages. Unlearning and learning, I keep at it.

“The timeline of your life is not a straight line, after all; it is a series of ebbs and flows, backs and forths, heres and theres. You are nowhere and everywhere all at once, and that means that most of the time, the best you can do is be present to the moment, be open to the unlearning and the learning, and trust that you’re doing the work of Love.”

― Kaitlin B. Curtice, Living Resistance: An Indigenous Vision for Seeking Wholeness Every Day

 

“I increasingly feel that a part of me is missing, the part that is able to sit with the seismic changes that come, to sense them and experience them and integrate them, rather than to merely administrate them. As I grow older this begins to feel like a desperate lack. There has been a yearning in me that I'm only just beginning to understand, a craving for transcendent experience, for depth, for meaning-making.”

― Katherine may, Enchantment: Awakening Wonder in an Anxious Age

Having gone silent for the past couple of months, I land here today a bit unexpectedly. Examining my motives, I mull over the pros and cons, and arrive at the conclusion that the answers are not crystal clear. During my absence things have shuffled a bit, and I see now that it might be possible to shift my life in a slightly different direction. I considered starting over here, a fresh start, but see clearly now that life is a meandering path of the unknown, and so I decide to leave proof of the past among the pages here. I have no steadfast rules going forward, other than to allow myself to experience some depth in what I notice and feel.

saying goodbye

“Many of us have made our world so familiar that we do not see it anymore. An interesting question to ask yourself at night is, What did I really see this day?”

John O' Donahue - Anam Cara

As someone who remembers life before home computers, three channels to choose something to watch on TV, and telephones connected to walls with a cord, a few months ago I found myself yearning for a simpler life. I wanted more, or maybe what I wanted was less. I was overwhelmed with options and confused at times. I could not narrow down what book to read next, started to question the laundry soap I was using and even went so far as researching what kind of pin I wanted to order to use in a new journal.

If I wanted to make cookies I would spend hours looking for just the right recipe on all my favorite cooking sites, when I had several ear-marked in the cookbooks on my shelfs. I stopped trusting myself, looking crazy things up like how to grow potatoes, when I have gardened almost all my life and grown potatoes for years. But it was when I started loosing interest in the overwhelming amount of photos I saw online that I knew I had to make some changes. I asked myself when was the last time I truly studied a photo on Flickr or even Instagram? When was the last time I tried to connect with the photographer beyond hitting that like button.

I knew I had to make some changes. So slowly I started backing away. I unsubscribed to tons of emails. Wiped out most of my bookmarks on my computer and started fresh. I cleaned out my follow streams and cut way back on my time online. I also took breaks from this space and the time I commented to it.

I found myself with some free time on my hands. I had to learn to use that time differently, and it was hard at first. I had to trust my gut more, and leave all the influencers behind so I could learn again how to make up my own mind. But, I found I was sleeping better and learning to let go of some of the control I felt I always had to have. I was less stressed and didn’t feel nearly as overwhelmed or frustrated and I started to trust myself more. Life seemed simpler.

I have decided that this will be my last post, for I feel I am ready to simplify my life even more by letting this space go.

I want to thank all of you who have followed along with me over the years. It has been a privilege to share part of my life with all of you. I know I will feel a bit lost for a while, but I also know this space has run its course.

Have a beautiful holiday season,
xoxo, Cathy

unconventional beauty

It's the things that aren't accepted as conventionally beautiful that I find more attractive. 

-Marc Jacobs

I find beauty in the fading of the landscape surrounding me as it slips away.
The last rose puts on an unexpected show as the frost melts on her petals,
as the delicate textures of the butterfly bush revels nuances I might not have noticed while in full bloom.
These subtle delicacies remind me to slow down and pay attention over and over again.