You are not responsible for everything. Be accountable. Strive to be self-aware. Know that there is so much more at work than you could ever carry on your own, so don’t even try.
Note to self.
You are not responsible for everything. Be accountable. Strive to be self-aware. Know that there is so much more at work than you could ever carry on your own, so don’t even try.
Note to self.
Petulance is actually the word that comes to mind at the moment. I feel as if my inner child, not getting what she wants fast enough, is throwing a temper tantrum.
I just need to convince her to give the grass time to grow.
Thanks Richard Adams.
Back to back showings and an Open House Saturday, and I’m falling into the perfectionism trap.
Then I found this note I’d written to my younger self:
Discard the concept of perfection:
choose to embrace vulnerability
and imperfection as fertile ground.
Taking comfort in my own words.

“When you sit in silence long enough, you learn that silence has a motion. It glides like water. Its colour is silver. And silence has a sound you hear only after hours of wading inside it. The sound is soft, like flute notes rising up, like the words of glass speaking. Then there comes a point when you must shatter the blindness of its words the blindness of its light.”
Growing up fifth of six kids, I learned that life was chaos and noise. It was where I thrived. Always shared a room, and later, an apartment, and marriage, and my own children, and when finally silence found me, it was shattering. It took a long while for me to appreciate the gift in silence, and like anything in life, I had to learn not to rest there too long.
Balance and moderation. That’s what I seek.
But, oh, I do love silence.
I love this quotation. I feel as if ‘cynicism’ has long been a companion of mine. She creeps into my writing and undermines my sleep. She is overridden, however, by my desire to make a difference.
As a teacher, I had plenty of opportunities to offer hope and substance to my students, but that has changed now. Age and illness have greatly reduced my contact with others. The striving is harder, and yet, just as applicable.
A teacher of mine once said that we are like tuning forks – our vibration, our energy, our attitude influencing those around us.
I keep these words close to mind. A worthy goal for living each day.
Therapy is drudging up old feelings – places where I tend to get stuck. I don’t have the answers I need to move on yet, so all I can do is breathe through the moments and be mindful in the present.

People ask: “How can you be so sick; you’re a strong person?” Or I am too positive of a person – how is it possible?
What if it is because of these very things that life has chosen me for a master class – a spiritual quest – not for the weak of heart? What if it’s because I’m a good student?
(Image and art mine)