knee deep in weeds

notes on living a life

delicious ambiguity

"For last year's words belong to last year's language
And next year's words await another voice.
And to make an end is to make a beginning." 
- T.S Eliot


i struggle a bit throughout the holidays.
like waves, my emotions beat against the shore.
some come in as smooth as glass, while others pound my perimeters
with such force, they break apart my heart and scatter it about.
i am left to pick up the pieces and arrange them in some sensible manner. 

my sister and i talk about this, and decide it is a normal Christmas hangover. 
she gets them too. i have celebrated 63 Christmases, she 73, many of them together.
and yet, we come away from those joint years of celebrating, with
contrasting memories and distinctive traditions which lead to
different expectations. she has more experience in this discombobulated
holiday stuff and i am thankfull for what i glean from her. 

we celebrate "the actual day" with the kids up north, our first real Christmas
away from home. i work on trying to figure out where i fit, what role i play, 
how i can help, but not take over. i do pretty good, but i see there
is room for improvement and have to apologize, only once. . . 
no-one seems to notice but me, so i feel pretty good. 
we eat, drink too much wine, sit by the fire and pass the dogs around, 
it is heaven and ends way too soon. 

We spend January 1st walking through our lives, room by room, drawing up a list of work to be done, cracks to be patched. Maybe this year, to balance the list, we ought to walk through the rooms of our lives...not looking for flaws, but for potential.
— Ellen Goodman

i lay awake at night and think about the coming year, 
how i want to cut back, simplify, and back away from some arenas
and lean more into others. . .  

i see growth and awareness has accrued, some of it in places no mother wants to go.
i set my boundaries and hang love hearts on them, to open when it is safe, 
and under my terms. . .  

Pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences, but shouts in our pains. It is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.
— C.S. Lewis

i understand that what lies beneath the surface, is not what is reflected in the light. 
i recognize that i have worked for years to have a decent refection,
or at least one that was acceptable. but the truth is, below that surface
there is muck and goo and the messiness of life. scoop a cup of that muck up
and you are going to find life, energy, fortitude and stamina. 
every year i get closer to grasping what fills me up, makes me shine and soothes my soul.
the key for me is to remember to enjoy that reflection for what it is,
an imitation of the light around me,
and recognize the goo and muck below, for what it is. 

the life force of a beautiful and full life. . . 

I wanted a perfect ending. Now I’ve learned, the hard way, that some poems don’t rhyme, and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what’s going to happen next.”
”Delicious Ambiguity.
— Gilda Radner

this year has taught me a few things about myself . . . 

10,000+ photos on my hard-drive proves that that i can spot beauty just about anywhere
the need to come here each week and write tells me i have something to say
watching my boys with their wives assures me i was a good mother
rowing twice a week has helped me believe that i am capable of physical strength
meditation and prayer has taught me that faith was missing in my daily life, both have opened my heart and deepened my belief
listening to my instincts and the inner voice in my head has brought me me a bountiful amount of goodness this past year
and, accepting that i can only controle myself, my actions, and my thoughts, and no-one else's, has brought me some serenity

Thank you for stopping by. Thank you for your comments and likes this past year, and for reading my ramblings. This is my self-indulgent space. A place to balance my ego and a way for me to process and digest the inner and outer world around me. It allows me to let go and hold on. It is my way of working things out, opening my heart and my mind. I am honored you drop in. 

Outside, the ocean was crashing, waves hitting sand, then pulling back to sea. I thought of everything being washed away, again and again. We make such messes in this life, both accidentally and on purpose. But wiping the surface clean doesn’t really make anything neater. It just masks what is below. It’s only when you really dig down deep, go underground, that you can see who you really are.
— Sarah Dessen