Where did the month of June go?!?!
It has been a full, happy month. I have been writing behind the scenes. Working on stories whose times have come. Some are being submitted, others are simply being released like poison from my body. This writing life is healing me and teaching me and showing me how to live my best life. I am beyond grateful. I am also this much closer to beginning part two of Astrid's story in earnest, and that feels amazing. The anticipation of the hard yet euphoric work of creating a fictional world is building.
It's been a month of softball games (my girl hit a homerun!) and summer concerts by the river. Epiphanies arrived in the midst of church camp, walks at lunch, and sitting in a webinar in a conference with colleagues.
I downloaded a month's worth of photos and want to share some here with accompanying tales. What the following photos illustrate the most is that the little moments in life truly are the big ones. I am desperate to travel abroad (or even domestically) again, but it simply is not in the budget right now. Rather than lament that fact, I am learning how wonderful life is when you make adventures out of everything--as close as one's own front yard.
Here's the colorful note Cadence made me the morning after I made mac and cheese from scratch and invited beloved friends to share the meal. She loved it and told me over and over.
Here she is at the library signing up for the summer reading program that she will likely not finish. I continue learning about how to mother a child who is so very different and yet so similar to me at once. I really cannot understand not wanting to read for hours on end, but that is not Cadence's jam right now. So instead of nagging her, I leave her be. She does love GOING TO THE LIBRARY, so I'm taking comfort in that and leaving open the possibility that one day she will find a book that captures her imagination and her interest. In the meantime, this is an important moment in my mothering journey. I am being faced with important questions. Do I really mean it when I say I want her to become her own person? As a matter of fact, yes, yes, I do. Some days that is harder than others. However, I persist. It is THAT important.
I recently celebrated my fifth anniversary at my current job and received a certificate of recognition. Another milestone, and with it, a better understanding of how my day job supports my real work, the writing. I have a new level of peace knowing how these puzzle pieces fit together and no longer feel the urge to make my day job be something it is not. I am reminded of Elizabeth Gilbert's wisdom about not making your craft feed you, but rather make sure you feed your craft. This makes perfect sense to me, and I have managed to carve out my life to do exactly this. Clarity is a beautiful thing.
My sweet music-loving girl with me at our eighth year of free summer concerts. I hold my breath every summer thinking this is the year she'll say, "Nah, I don't want to go." But so far, she's still game.
Our first foray into gardening. We bought soil, geraniums, petunias, zinnias, and delphinium and transformed two wheelbarrows into planters to improve our house's curb appeal. It felt good to demonstrate launching into a project that I wasn't entirely comfortable with and showing how to navigate it as an adventure and an opportunity to learn. We had a blast.
After the planting was complete, we went to see Wonder Woman. (More about that in a future post.)
Our completed project later in the day when the sun didn't cast such shadows on the house. I am overwhelmed by how much work my yard will require to look adequately landscaped, so...I decided to break down the overwhelm and start small. I have been amazed by what an uplift these flowers and their requisite maintenance have been--and I wasn't even melancholy to begin with.
I took my yoga mat to church camp. I'd been feeling a bit bored in the past few days, but there's nothing like yoga under the shade of trees on crisp summer mornings in the country to reinvigorate one's enthusiasm for the practice which feeds and nourishes me in so many ways.
Cadence and I hiked with camp friends. Another moment of joy and pause in the midst of nature. So happy to do interesting, healthy activities with my girl.
Last evening, Cadence and I hosted a dear friend for dinner in celebration of her June birthday. The evening was full of good food, lots of laughter, and the peace that comes with friendships marked by unconditional love and affection. It was a joy to make a pie for the first time in nearly three decades and to remember the friend who shared the recipe and other happy memories with me. It feels so great to have a growing collection of photos of me displaying foods that I made--successfully.
A friend came to town earlier in the month and we basked in time together without our children. We spent an afternoon at IKEA. I bought the clock above to help wean me from using my phone as a clock/watch. My friend also helped me find these curtains (2 pair for $25--a budget friendly way of sprucing up my kitchen while I wait for the energy and funds to repaint the main floor.
This last photo brings me to this evening. I put together this album when I returned home from a family vacation to Washington DC in 1990. The album has been stored in a suitcase ever since. I have decided that I'd rather use the post cards than let them languish in storage. I am reliving and honoring the memories far better this way than hoarding the postcards. My pile of things I'm ready to pass along continues to grow as does my sense of peace and tranquility with less.
I am stunned by how quickly 2017 is moving along. Ever since the 40/40 list, I notice the passage of time so differently. I am much more aware of the position of the sun and the moon in the sky at different times of day. I am much more comfortable spending an evening or an entire weekend alone, and when time is spent with friends I'm grateful for their presence in completely new ways.
I still consider my word of the year, Quiet, and am rely on its steadying effect and force in my life. When I catch myself wondering what next year's word will be, I remind myself to remain in the present, and trust that the right word will greet me when the time comes.