.

0630 Love Notes
0631 Watching the rain
0632 Getting back to work safely in a crazy storm with flooded streets
0633 The way the trees look so green after the rain
0634 Watching the sky turn from grey to blue
0635 Knowing Shawn is there waiting for me
0636 Driving with the windows down
0637 Puddle splashing
0638 A text message from a friend telling me to believe in my writer(ness)
0639 Chick flick movie dates by myself
0640 My hubby having a guys night
0641 Time with my art journal
0642 Creating art pages for my sister tribe
0643 Pictures of my brother’s three boys at a MLB game
0644 A working oven to finish cooking dinner after our small convection oven dies while cooking dinner
0645 Spending the day reading
0646 My friend Denise who has been one of the few constants in my life for over 7 years
0647 Blue skies
0648 Seeing my brother with his sons
0649 Actually getting the laundry put away
0650 My husband’s freelance business being busy
0651 1 month, 8 days until I have a weekend retreat with my sister tribe
0652 Autumn begins on Saturday
0653 Getting most of my meals for the week planned on Friday
0654 Lunch out with my beloved on Saturday

And the world cannot be discovered by a journey of miles, no matter how long, but only a spiritual journey, a journey of one inch, very arduous and humbling and joyful, by which we arrive at the ground at our feet, and learn to be at home. ~Wendall Berry

.

We were driving across the city the other night.  The air was silent with the exception of the other cars around us.  As we drove I caught sight of the moon.  It was just a bare sliver against the black night, hidden slightly by a wisp of a cloud.  I crouched down in my seat to try and get a better view, and thought to myself, “If I could only get to the other side of that cloud I’d be able to see the moon better.”  As if the cloud was something physical I could get past, like a bridge or a mountain.

That’s what I feel like so often.  Like there are are these hurdles I just can’t seem to move past to get to “the better view”.  And I think that “If only I can get around this bend.  If only a new day would dawn a little easier.  If only everything would work right for once.  If only …”  Days when life is too much effort.  When hope is eclipsed by doubt and fear.

Some days I don’t have the patience to wait and it all feels frustratingly more difficult that it should.  And I squeeze my temples with the butt of my hands when my husband asks what’s wrong and all I can say is nothing and I’m fine, when I know I’m not but the words are just too hard to find and the effort is just too….

I strive so hard to get past that “cloud”.  I forget that I’m moving at 1,000 miles per hour towards my destination and that every second, every breath, every cloud is part of the story I’m living and part of my “better view”.

As we drove further the cloud moved in its own prescribed path and the moon came into full view.  I could see the Waxing Crescent in all its fullness.  I could see the sharp points of top and bottom piercing the night sky.  I thought about the man in the moon.

And for a while I could see the full breadth of hope hanging there in the sky.

.

And a {post} book cannot be drafted, written and compiled by mere outlines, plot lines, word counts and character sketches — but by a spiritual journey of faith and baby steps. A journey already mapped and planned by our Creator; a Holy Spirit Who loves, guides and carries us through the soul-gripping, fear-cuing, arduous journey of writing. Because of whom we arrive at the place of healing in the midst of the place of raw … the place of shedding and revelation. Who guides our path to cross the paths of kindred, shedding souls who accompany us in our journey with a love that wraps us when we feel slivered and shredded. – Star Gardner

The sky is grey and brooding and I am in love with it.  Rain falls steadily.  Arrows from the sky ricocheting off ground.  My heart lies raw in my hands.  It’s hard to be grateful when you’re so raw.  We had devastating news in my family the end of last week and I’m reminded of the difficulty that joy & gratefulness can be.  That it isn’t always a simple answer.  That sometimes I must gather my courage.

I look at my heart and say, “even in this.”

0605 The way the summer afternoon light filters through the burgundy drapes in our bedroom
0606 Every single thing my husband does for our family
0607 My husband’s dreams for our family
0608 That one day healing will come
0609 Giving grace
0610 How he protects me & my heart
0611 Watching children play
0612 My ability to feel pain
0613  Garlic bread grilled cheese
0614 Date nights
0615 Super fancy, delicious cheese burgers
0616 Revisiting where we spent so many of our Friday nights while dating
0617 The rest that comes after a rough night of sleep
0618 He fills up the gas in my car
0619 Praying for my brother’s family
0620 Naps on a Monday afternoon
0621 When he hugs me because he knows I need it
0622 Friday Night Movie Night
0623 Finding old photos
0624 Chihuahua boys who dance on two feet for a treat
0625 A line of little elephants
0626 Discussing where we want to go on vacation next
0627 Fighting for us
0628 Friends who surround me
0629 A story dreamed up about a cat

We stretch and we reach.  Our fingers touching the velvet like texture.  We fall back and rest, feeling content to be here.  In this moment.  We hold up our hands, a silhouette against the light and count upon our fingers 1. 2. 3. 4…  We find our peace here.  We find our joy.

0575 Clouds that look like ocean waves
0576 Breakfasts he can take to work that are “Super”
0577 The follow through of a massage therapists hands
0578 Getting off work two hours early
0579 Running a few errands with my beloved
0580 Rain falling against my skin as I stood in the rain & felt my breath catch
0581 Starting a new book
0582 A holiday Monday
0583 Marbled cake with chocolate glaze
0584 A long conversation with friends who understand
0585 Finished laundry [now who’s going to put it away?]
0586 Day one
0587 Trader Joe’s O’s & Bananas
0588 The way a complete stranger can completely encourage you
0589 1 month, 22 days, 11 hours, 7 minutes
0590 He holds me close when I feel like crying in the middle of a store
0591 My own bravery
0592 A hope that our one day will be our today
0593 Dreams that give me understanding and strength
0594 Not walking up at 5am on a Monday morning
0595 My friends who encourage me when all seems daunting
0596 Cinnamon scented candles
0597 A friend who comes along side with her own pain to hold my hand in mine
0598 Seeing friends who were instrumental in my meeting my husband and a huge influence during our dating years
0599 Taking the next step
0600 Grass green shirts
0601 Seeing how far I’ve come
0602 Knowing I don’t have to be perfect
0603 Little bird cage necklace with a tiny blue bird
0604 Seeing a full arch rainbow

welcome to art therapy:.  a weekly feature on PrudyChick.com where i share art and share briefly the story behind the piece.  art includes art journal pieces, poetry, short stories, paintings.

–

I have very vivid dreams.  Full color.  I didn’t start having nightmares until I was an adult, and fortunately those come very, very rarely because I will force myself to stay awake after having one.

And then I have what I call “Epic Dreams”.  These are the dreams that haunt me in a good way.  That stick with me for years.  They are rich with meaning, and in someways are even prophetic.  One such dream is the basis for the book I’m working on.  Another involved me (in the 1800’s) rescuing girls who were being trafficked.  Another that involved me flying (this dream happened months before I knew my word would be FLY this year).

And this most recent one that had me pondering its meaning at 4 am, that involved my house, my husband, & I getting sucked up in a tornado.

This page was born of this dream.  The quote at the bottom was where my thoughts landed and I laid there thinking about it all.  And I’m doing my best to hold onto the reminder that I will be okay.

Part of flying means you have to risk it all.  The safety of your nest.  The comfort zone you’ve grown accustomed to.  The fact that chances are you may fall a few (hundred) times.  You have to be willing to move beyond your home of branches and twigs and garbage, to see the life awaiting you.

It’s not easy as you stand there, looking down from the place you’ve called home, the place you’re comfortable in.  You know that there will likely be pain.

I read a a blog post on Linkedin a month or so ago, it was part of a series Linkedin did on what inspires people.  In her post writer, Ann Handley wrote that one of the two things that inspires her is fear.  She writes, “As an adult, though, I’ve learned to embrace fear as both motivating and inspiring.”

We can allow fear to operate one of two ways in our lives. It can paralyze us or it can motivate us.

She also quoted Amy Gahran, “Your comfort zone equals your dead zone.”

Leaving our comfort zone we find life.  We see life.

I’m learning to leave my comfort zone.  It’s difficult.  Fear keeps me there.  Resistance tells me that I’ll never find satisfaction anywhere else.

And as much as I hesitate and hem & haw and question the what-ifs, as much as I resist talking about the things that lie outside of my comfort zone {e.g., the things I REALLY, REALLY want}, as much as I fear that life outside my little nest will mean falling flat on my face I’m spreading my wings.  I’m seeing what I am truly capable of.

I’m testing the boundaries of my art.  Creating pieces that bleed the words of my soul.  I also started writing a book (fiction).  A genre that I rarely read which surprises me even more than the fact that I’m writing a book.  But I heard that calling outside of my nest and I said the worst that can happen is I bomb at this.  And I know that my life will be greater for the having tried.

“Sometimes you wake up. Sometimes the fall kills you. And sometimes, when you fall, you fly.” – Neil Gaiman

Where are you today?  Are you risking it all to experience and see life?

It’s a rainy, cloudy day here and I’ve decided I love the way that rain drops race up my windshield as I drive in the rain.  My heart longs for autumn and has grown weary of what seems to be my long sleeve shirts and sweaters mocking me as I gaze longingly at them knowing it will be another hot day.

Today (Sunday) was different  than most August mornings.  I stopped for coffee on my way to get groceries and was tempted more to sit on the coffee shop’s patio and enjoy the cooler morning.  So I did the next best thing and laid on my couch, window blinds open, overcast skies washing over me.

And I gather these gifts some from months ago some from this very day of breath.  I hold them close.

0545 The sunrise as I turned to head to work last Monday morning.  I think my exact utterance was, “Wow!”
0546 Juicy summer Peaches
0547 Gathering grey skies
0548 Vanilla ice cream in a cone with chopped nuts
0549 Underlines & personal notes in a book
0550 Chihuahua antics
0551 A bird’s flight across the sky
0552 An “office” window for a few weeks while I cover the front desk at work
0553 Two hours at the library to write
0554 Phone warranties
0555 10,347 words
0556 Peach colored roses in my beige cube at work
0557 His letting me have time to write when his own plans are cancelled
0558 The sound of the rain on the roof of my car
0559 The next 40,000 words
0560 A 79° morning in August
0561 My beloved took me out for super fancy pancake breakfast
0562 A book about finding freedom and flight
0563 My husband’s support for me as I dream and take steps towards those dreams
0564 My husband’s excitement over a camera lens he rented (I can’t wait for him to own it himself)
0565 Cheetah print scarf
0566 Origami Cranes
0567 The way some songs just serenade my heart
0568 Pictures of our Zeus way up close
0569 Sparklers in our drive way
0570 Date nights made to happen even after a long afternoon waiting for my phone to be replaced
0571 Lying on the beach with my beloved
0572 Exploring the Natural History Museum in San Diego
0573 Breath given to me by my tribe
0574 Dinner at our favorite Italian restaurant in Little Italy – San Diego (or the world)

welcome to art therapy:.  a weekly feature on PrudyChick.com where i share art and share briefly the story behind the piece.  art includes art journal pieces, poetry, short stories, paintings.

I’ve grown accustom over the last year and a half to listening for #secretmessages in music, movies, books, random quotes, road signs, etc.  Since I watched my life fall apart and I’ve made the slow progress of rebuilding my wings and faith and trust, I lose myself in these messages.  They have become more than just lyrics sung, stories told, or good advice.  For some they are back of the chair I clutch and scream, “YES! YES! YES! YES! YES!”  They have become the grace on the dark days and they have become my anthems.  All while wondering if the person who wrote them had prophetic knowledge of my life.  Because sometimes….seriously!!!

I’ve realized over the past several months that I can either be defined by the events in my past or I can stand up, put my gloves on, and tell the tragedies, the struggles, the moments that threatened to kill me, “Let’s take this outside.”  Occasionally I get knocked back down and occasionally it takes me a while to get back up off the mat before the 10 count is finished, but I’ve learned to come up swinging.

When you see your dreams not happening, whether either from your own fear or lack of movement, or just because it’s not time – you can feel your hope begin to crumble.

We wait and we dream.  Wishes upon stars that we stuff into little yellow envelopes like little notes.  We bury the envelope some inches below the surface of the earth and hope they will sprout and grow wings and come true.  And yet sometimes they don’t.  Sometimes we go out in the back yard and we see the yellow envelope is now stained with dirt and has shriveled & begun to fall apart and our notes have started to disintegrate from the elements.

It’s hard.  We see the hopes we had for a better future, for a promising life wear thin and shatterable.  We begin to question our sanity for wishing dreams.

I’ve been in an intentional mode to maintain hope.  I see its thinness and I can feel its urge to splinter when I place my palm upon my chest.  My heartbeat feels somehow weaker.  The things I’d desire for the now seem to be on hold.  Some of them as I’ve shared previously is our own fears dictating that our steps not be taken.  Some it’s just not time.  Some what our ideal was, was made not an option and we’re left wondering what is next.

But this doesn’t make our dreams any less real, or any less difficult when we see time taking it’s time.  It doesn’t mean we’ve lost our sanity for having them.  I laid with my head against crisp, white, hotel sheets and considered all of this.  I swallowed a dose of hope, a dose of “I can continue to breathe when I don’t feel that I can”.  I suffer myself to not press a finger against the temperamental hope and shatter it back to the millions of pieces its been before.  To remember the flight I’ve begun, and recall that it is better up here than down in the mire.  No matter how appealing mire and giving up appears.

And it sustains me until it doesn’t any longer – whether that’s a day, a week, a month, an hour.  It’s a continual process for me.  I was talking with my friend Mandy about hope and how for me hope isn’t the anchor that so many see it as.  I’ve lost all hope and the will for my dreams to live.  To me, hope is fluid.  I see often its waning and waxing as I try to hold tight to it.

When we are healing every part of us is vulnerable.  We know that unless we make a conscious decision [sometimes with every breath] to continue walking, continue our upward spiral of flight, to continue believing that wholeness will come where shattering occurred – that hope, the one we see so thin and fragile, will only haunt our lives rather than invade them.

So today your hope may be just as fluid as mine, and you too press your cheeks against the cool sheets and wonder how you’re going to do the day, and your dreams distant and weak, and your courage barely a roar.  Hold, with whatever grasp you have, tight to what little hope you are able to hold today.  Resist the urge to trigger the shattering.  Feel the wind ruffle your feathers asking you to join her.  Our hope may always be fluid, but I am certain we’ll both fly.

It’s been since March since I’ve done 1000 Gifts.  I had to actually go look that up.  It isn’t that I haven’t been grateful or haven’t noticed the gifts that my life has been offered, I have.  Some days though the hardness of the day takes over any goodness my day may offer.  Yet I see that, that is where this comes into play.  To put my focus on the gifts rather than the things that drain me.  I noticed it this past November when I spent the month being intentionally thankful, only to attend the memorial service for friends who lost their three year old daughter, getting sick & a trip out of town cancelled because of it, planning an overseas mission trip where financial support wasn’t coming in.  So like you I forget to live in the gifts I have.  The simple ones and the deep ones.

My plan for the remaining 19 weeks of 2013 is the complete my full 1000 gifts.  On December 30th, the last Monday of the year I’ll share my 1000th.  A final “push” to end this year well.  To end this year flying as has been my intent all year.

0531 A weekend vacation
0532 A growing library (even though I don’t really need any new books)
0533 Learning friends who lost their daughter last autumn are pregnant
0534 A husband who helps around the house
0535 Cooler weather is only about 2 months away not 5
0536 My sister tribe
0537 Learning a friend’s adoption is definitely happening
0538 Pressing on when the odds seem against us
0539 The way the lines on the road seem more yellow under the overcast sky
0540 Strawberry ice cream with strawberries and graham cracker crumbs mixed in
0541 Finding #Secretmessages in songs I’ve heard a hundred times
0542 The way he makes me laugh from the deepest parts of my soul
0543 Marking off #9 on my Before 40 list
0544 Brown butter, cinnamon, pecan cream cheese frosting

Please share one or two gifts from your last week.