Christmas 2020.

 I have celebrated Christmas in many different ways and in many different places during my life.  From my childhood home or one of my grandparent's houses.  There were the Christmases in Virginia.  There were celebrations at Grandma Barb and Grandpa Bill's house, the house that would later become my home for many years.  There was even a Christmas that was spent in an airplane, flying across the country.  And now this year, I have a new home to celebrate in.  

For this, I am both excited and filled with such gratitude.  I love this house.  I love the people with who I share it.  I love the people who spend time with me here.  I also love thinking about future Christmases that will be celebrated right here.  

But do you want to know something that feels bad right now?  I know it's really insignificant in the whole scheme of things, but it is still a niggling pain that I can't quite shake. It's the lack of familiarity, the absence of all those silly little things that appeared every December when I opened up their storage boxes.  One of the only constants, regardless of my address, has been the motley assortment of holiday detritus that has accompanied me.  I'm somewhat surprised that I feel this loss so acutely.  

I was able to rescue a few items, albeit burnt, from the rubble.  The wise men from my nativity, as well as a donkey and a sheep, made it through the fire.  An old ceramic Christmas tree, no longer green, sits rather dejectedly on my hearth.  I can still see the love that went into creating this handmade treasure.   The stockings I made for the kids are no longer hanging.  But I've replaced them and added a few new ones to the mix.  That makes me really happy.  I can't play Christmas carols on my piano this year because, well, my piano is gone now.  So is the sheet music with the handwritten notes from my piano teacher. My kids' baby ornaments.  No more.   My favorite naked Santa ornament.  Also gone.  Christmas dinnerware.  The Santa shoes for candy canes.  The sleigh that Christmas cards are put in after we've all looked at them.  I guess it all had a good run for many years.

I am slowly replacing stuff.  And it is just stuff, I realize that.  There will be no more crappy lights for our tree.  I've purchased lots of (matching) new ones!  I bought gutter clips for the outside lights, which Jon put up for me (probably saving my leg bones from further duress), so our exterior illumination is now evenly spaced and consistent.  I've received decorations from family members and that absolutely makes my heart happy.  Those things will undoubtedly be special to me from here on out.  There are new ornaments on our tree and eventually, I hope to have a ridiculous representation of everyone I love on our tree.  Good things take time though.  

The things that cannot be destroyed are the traditions that we share, both old ones and new ones.  We spend a day cooking butter and sugar together to make the toffee that Jake has made for years. We cut a real tree, no fake ones for us!  We will drive around one evening very soon and look at all the Christmas lights.  I will play my Christmas records when I'm wrapping presents.  Everyone will unwrap new pajamas on Christmas Eve.  Cookies will be cut out with the same cookie cutters I used as a child.  Heavy metal Christmas CD's are added to our holiday playlist.  Christmas morning breakfast is now biscuits and gravy.   I can hardly wait to see where these new traditions take us.

New is good.  Old is good.  What we have going on here right now is really good.  There's just a little sting sometimes.  But honestly, that little bit of discomfort is, by contrast,  what makes the good stuff feel the best.  

  

Does My Vote Count?

  So I voted yesterday. Or I guess what I actually did was slid my completed ballot into the local dropbox. I'm not a particularly political person. That doesn't mean that I don't have definitive views on how our government should be run and where we could use a little (or a lot) improvement. I try hard to keep all of the current political discord out of my everyday life. The hostility that seems to permeate all things political, especially around election time, is something that I don't want pervading my mind. Not to say that my head is in the proverbial sand regarding this election. I do my best (good citizen that I am) to educate myself about the who's and what's and why's of the current governmental situation. Finding good, unbiased, truthful information is proving to be more difficult, but that's a subject for another day.

I honestly don't know what the results of this election will do to our country. Everything seems so divided and hostile. Sometimes I even wonder if my vote really counts? Oh, I know that voting is both my responsibility as well as my right as a citizen. I exercise that right with a certain amount of patriotic pride. And yet there is also a sense of embarrassment that nags at me when I consider how far we have departed from the Founding Father's intentions for governing this country.  

So does my vote count? Maybe.

Which got me thinking. What can I do, besides casting my vote, that can help create the kind of America that I believe in? The kind of country where there is true freedom and where each individual has the inalienable right to live according to their beliefs?

With my pocketbook. That's what I can do to promote my ideals. How and where I spend my money is where my power lies.  

How many of us spend time perusing the internet in search of "stuff"? It's easy. It's relatively quick. And without leaving the comfort of our homes we are able to find a multitude of options for whatever thing we happen to be looking for. Oh, I love me some online shopping!

But at whose expense is my congenial shopping experience?

Down the rabbit hole I go....

So, just as it's simple and easy to shop online, it's also easy to research the companies and conglomerates that we are buying from. Are you buying from a company that doesn't align with your ideology about life? What about their practices and treatment of employees? Can you say "sweatshop"? How about their political affiliations and contributions? Is it in agreement with how you vote or are you turning a blind eye and deaf ear because it's saving you $1.57?  

Recently I did a little fact-finding into Amazon. Since the corona debacle, I have utilized the ease of Amazon shopping way more than usual. Probably like millions of other Americans. Ugh. What I've discovered is that the founder/owner of Amazon is contributing to causes that I am opposed to. Not only that but when I buy from Amazon I am potentially taking business away from a more local, privately-owned company.

 How have I not considered any of this before? I suppose because I'm "busy" and I like a good deal. Blah. That's no excuse!  

Then I started looking into the affiliation of many other stores that I frequently patronize. Hmm. Not so good. Again, how did I so easily just hand over my money to something that was so contradictory to my principles?

Baaaa.

With this Christmas season quickly approaching, I know that I will NOT be shopping through Amazon. Or Target. Or a lot of other stores. Sure, I might still shop online but I will be looking for a smaller, hopefully more local business that sources its products domestically. I want my money to support a business that aligns with me, creates jobs for Americans, and that produces a product with American materials.  

Is this a tall order? Maybe. But I'm going to put my money where my mouth is and give it a go.

Ho Ho Ho

 Not THAT kind of ho....let me preface this post with that disclaimer.  (Seems like my moral character has been questioned as of late and it was just too perfect to use that title! 😆)

Back before the fire, I had sent Jon to the old house to bring home our boxes of holiday decorations.  His car is small so he wasn't able to fit all the boxes in the trunk.  No worries.  We really just needed the fall/Halloween decorations.  We could go back and pick up the Christmas stuff another time.  

Yeah, that didn't quite work out as anticipated.  

We've sifted through the rubble a few times, finding the occasional recognizable (though charred) memories.  A piece of the nativity set here, a teacup there, maybe a shard of glass that was once a Christmas ornament.  The handmade stockings are gone.  So are the silly ornaments each kid had created through the years. A few special, one of a kind ornaments are also gone forever. All the Christmas books I had collected,  just ashes now.  The entire mismatched, motley collection of stuff, gone.

Well, damn.

So last night Jake and I walked next door to his parent's house to visit with his brother, Jed and his wife, Julie.  (Two Julies?!?  Confusing, but awesome!)  I was so happily surprised to find boxes of Christmas decorations waiting for me.  Really.  Boxes of stuff!  Jed and Julie had put together the "Pennick/Summers Christmas Starter Kit" to help offset our loss.  

I could've cried.  Something so insignificant as compared to other people's losses, yet still so paramount in our lives.  Their thoughtfulness and generosity made my heart happy.  Very, very happy.  Sarah was so excited sorting through those boxes, commenting on how some things were similar to what we had  lost, but even cooler. 

So thank you, even you, Jed, for the great surprise.  I love you guys!

#doublebucklemeJed

Some Times You Just Gotta Cut Them Down.

I spent the day in the mountains yesterday.  Or the hills, if you'd rather.   Jake, Sarah, his parents, and I went up to their mountain to meet with the logger who will be cutting their burned timber.  We had a lovely picnic and spent the afternoon sorting through the rubble, rescuing any items we were lucky enough to find.  Some of us exercised our logging skills and cut wood.  That would not include me.

It really was a nice way to spend a Saturday.

Bittersweet though.  To look around and take in the destruction that surrounded us was heartbreaking.  To see the loss of property and the ugly, burnt scar of the landscape is rough.  This place was a respite from the "real world" and the beauty and peacefulness there were palpable.  As we sat at the picnic table (which made it through the fire!) eating our sandwiches, we all, silently, considered which trees would remain and which trees must be culled.  I'm sure each one of us reflected on how different things would be from here on out.  

But then as I walked among the burned out stumps and piles of ashy fir needles, I saw bits of green poking through the forest floor.  Fern fronds were unfurling.  Sorrel was growing in its clumpy patches.  Blackberries were everywhere!  There were even new leaves on the apple trees.  

This place would recover.  And it would be beautiful again.

Jake and I have spent hours looking at pictures and plans of cabins.  He has ideas to improve on how things were before the fire.  I know his parents have been searching for their own updated version of a cabin as well.   I think we are all feeling optimistic and maybe even a little excited at the prospect of how this mountain will look in the future.  Yes, it will look different but different isn't necessarily bad.  

That mountain was beautiful before the fire.  And, like everything in life, sometimes things beyond our control force us to transform our reality.  Just like with burned up trees.  You can't save or hold on to them.  Sometimes you just gotta cut them down and replant.  And there will be beauty in both the process and the end result.  

 

A Ramble

 On the eve of my birthday I suppose I shall ramble for a bit.

I'm currently drinking a mug of coffee on our back patio.  I do this almost every morning, rain or shine.  From my vantage point I can see the cows milling about in the field below our yard and the Friday morning traffic driving on the highway.  I can see my large, albeit failed, corn patch (WORST corn ever!) and our fruit trees, still loaded with ripened fruit.  There's my garden and my flowers and an assortment of pretty rocks that we have both brought to this house.  I can hear the washer humming along inside and the birdsong this morning is the usual cacophony of noise.  There's no breeze and it's just chilly enough to warrant a robe and slippers out here.  The day ahead holds the promise of excitement and fun with my dearest girlfriend; massages, a little shopping, a little day drinking.  And later tonight holds the promise of a weekend filled with hunting, cheesecake, and family.  Amongst other things.

Do you know what's missing?  

What's missing is agitation and distress.  There is not conflict hiding in the wings anymore.  There are no people who I must avoid.  No, what I feel is a deep peace and contentment this morning.

And man, that is a relatively foreign feeling for me!

This past year has brought lots of changes into my life.  Actually into all of our lives.  Sometimes it's uncomfortable and hard.  Kinda like gardening.  You get dirty and it's physically hard and the weeding seems to never end.  But in the end, you get to harvest.  I believe that gardening of any kind keeps a person honest.  There's always something to humble you (like corn!) and there's always a lesson to be learned from the garden itself.  And, you're often at the mercy of things beyond your control.  You just have to stay committed and put in the work.

I really, really love this life we are making.  I love this house and how we are making it ours together.  I am thankful for the influence that Jake has on us.  His wisdom and insight amaze me daily.  Wickedly smart, that guy!  Watching my kids grow and become their own people is the most rewarding feeling (frustrating too!) as well.    

I used to dread getting older.  I also used to dread change.  Probably because I wanted to stay in a place that was familiar to me, even if it was painfully so.  Having to relearn things or restructure or replace was an exhausting, daunting idea for me.

Now I look ahead and am not afraid.  I'm rather excited at the prospect of going down my path now.

Proud

I'm proud of all my kids.  Each one has made me proud at some point in their lives.  Repeatedly.  I'm proud of how they've dealt with change and death and being ignored by people who shouldn't ignore them.  I'm proud of their accomplishments.  I'm proud of what makes them each a unique human. 

But in the last few weeks, I've been especially proud of Jack.  This kid has experienced so much adversity in his short life. Death, abandonment, disappointment, destruction--he's had his fair share of crap. More than I ever had at his age, that's for certain.  Don't get me wrong, he's not perfect.  That's also for certain.  He says a particular word that rhymes with "duck" all too often.  He hangs up on me with regularity.  Sometimes the things he talks about make me cringe.   And I don't think he brushes his teeth often enough (after all that money for braces...).

But I'm a little in awe of his ability to know and recognize what he wants out of life.  And he does this with a teachable attitude.  This means that he knows what he wants but he's also willing to listen and heed another's advice or suggestions or ask for help.  I would say he's also humble and doesn't like being in the spotlight.  All and all, he's a pretty simple guy who doesn't require much to keep him happy. After losing everything in the fire, I think he now only owns a couple changes of clothes, 2 bath towels, and a toothbrush (that I bought him).   He seems to know when to fight for something and when to walk away from the fight.  He can fix just about anything.  And he works hard.  Very hard.  (But he also sleeps.  A lot.  His nickname is "Nappy Joe.")

Jake and I went up on the hill with Jack the other evening.  Back story:  Jake's family owns some beautiful property in the mountains/woods that was destroyed by the recent fire.  Jack (and his friend) will be cutting and logging some of the burnt trees in order to keep the property safe for family to enjoy and to create a new place to rebuild.  As I was sitting on the tailgate of Jack's pickup, watching him cut trees, I actually started to cry.  Here was my kid, the little blonde one who I remember so vividly packing around his toy power saw, doing what he always wanted to do.  Now he was packing a big saw, complete with all the accoutrements, felling timber like a pro.  Ah, but now he actually is a pro.  

I don't have to tie "tightening loops" for him anymore or string rope across his room to create a makeshift yarder.  I don't have to feed him or do his laundry or fuss at him for leaving his bacon pan on the counter anymore.  I can't read him a story on my lap, in my rocking chair before bed.  I really can't even tell him what to do.

But I do have the privilege of watching him actualize his dreams.  

And that makes this Mama very proud.

Birthday Week

My birthday is this week.  My 49th birthday to be exact. 

Geez.  That sounds old.

This week I think I'll write about life.  More specifically, I think I'll share the wisest stuff I can come up with.

1.  I've said this before but I believe it now more than ever:  Never trust a woman with overly-manicured fingernails.  Too high maintenance....in all aspects of life.

2.  Try not to overthink. * Everything*.  Take it all at face value and don't put your own spin on it.  Trust me on this.

3.  Everyone has a past.  Leave it right there and walk forward.

4.  Always tell the truth.  Even when it's hard.

5.  Learn to speak your truth and then do it.  Regularly.  Don't be afraid to communicate what you really need.

6.  Make your bed every morning.  

7.  Know your boundaries.  With people.  With whisky.  With your job.  With your kids.  With yourself.

8.  Always be open to the magic of possibilities.  

9.  There is nothing that a night's sleep won't put into better perspective.  Notice I didn't say "a good night's sleep".  Sometimes it's just gonna be sleep.

10.  Never get so busy that you forget to look up at the sky and marvel at the sunsets and the moon.

Family

We are all born into some sort of family.  Biologically we have a father and a mother.  Or at least an X and a Y chromosome represented in the creation of ourselves.  Often times we also have biological siblings who belong to this same alchemy of genealogical stuff.  Grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, all with some sort of genetic connection to one another.  This is the family that you don't get to choose.

Sometimes there's the family that we inherit when we enter into a relationship or marriage with another person.  That connection is hit or miss.  Sometimes we get lucky and sometimes we get screwed.

Then, there's the biologically unrelated people who become like family to us.  Either through common experiences, similar lifestyles, or even by happenstance. These are the folks who we choose to spend our lives with.  That, there, is part of the magic of the universe.  

My biological family is a constant.  Always has been.  There is little I need to say about that relationship.  I look like my Mom, as do my girls.  But we all have my Dad's nose, as do most of my siblings.  I like to knit, just like my Grandma, and I like to bake, just like my other Grandma.  I was fortunate enough to grow up with two sets of Grandparents who, albeit somewhat different from one another, were present and involved in my life.  I knew where I belonged with them.  Always.  And my parents have always been a stable, immutable presence as well.  But there was that one time where they opted to use a fake Christmas tree and my very foundation was shaken.  Still recovering from that.

I inherited an amazing family when I started consorting with Jake.  (We jokingly used the word "consorting" because I felt that the word "dating" was too high school.😂  And now I think we've gone way beyond consorting, but I still like how it sounds.)  Kind, accepting, comforting, and generous, these folks are.  Not just to me, but to my kids.  I hit the jackpot here for sure.  Yes, but I also know what it's like to be on the other end of the spectrum with inherited "family".  Unfortunately, so, too,  do my kids.  This stark contrast is how I know I hit the jackpot this time around.  Never will I take this bond for granted.  The love and gratitude that I feel for this family helps soften and erase some of the abandonment, disregard, and hostility that used to be at the forefront of the lineage I came into years before.

My friends....

These are the ones who have driven me home and brought me whisky and cake and yarn and coffee.  These are the ones who have listened to my complaints and offered advice and danced with me to our favorite songs at 2:00 AM.  These people have cleaned my chimney and watched my kids for me when I needed a break and tried out the new sheets on my bed with me.  We have run together and had couple's massages together and traveled together.  We have cried and laughed, sometimes until we peed our pants (not me though, I have the lady parts of steel--kegels). We have dealt with tragedies and happiness and fear and crisis.  I've never been alone with these people. " Friends" is a word that doesn't quite grasp the magnitude of their position in my life.  These are my chosen family.

My birthday is swiftly approaching and I tend to get a little introspective around this time every year.  As I look ahead to my next trip around the sun I feel such gratitude for the good that exists in my life, both the experiences that I have had and the people who are around me.  I truly am lucky.  I hope to let go of the things and people that aren't in agreement with what I intend for the future.  

Oh, there is still so much fun to be had!  And so much "family" to be a part of it.

 

Afraid

It's funny, being that I haven't lived in my old house for almost a full year, that I am feeling so upset by its destruction. For the past several years that house was no longer a place of comfort and peace. No, it had become a battlefield. Fighting for it and some semblance of permanence left me exhausted and bewildered and numb. Probably a little bit angry too. Someday I'll tell that part of the story.

 I was certainly expecting to feel a sense of loss for my family. We lost possessions. Jack lost his dream. With this fire we finished a chapter to our story. Yes, it was time for us to turn the page, for sure. But the emotions I am feeling are not what I anticipated.

 I don't know that I have ever felt more alone. This is ridiculous because my paltry possessions pale in comparison to so many other people's losses. We still have a beautiful home to live in. We are out from under the oppressive control of the benevolent dictator who tried to keep us in a state of grovelling. We are happy again. 

 I just can't shake this feeling of fear and loneliness though. I suppose because I've lived with the fear of being left and abandoned or forgotten for so many years that this tragedy only intensifies those fears. As a person who has never really felt that I belonged anywhere, the loss of this home just adds to that insecurity.  

 As difficult as the past years have been for me, I still found some comfort in the familiarity of that old house. Maybe it was a touchstone of sorts?  Probably.  I fought hard to make it mine and it was where I found out how strong I could be. It was also where I learned to pretend that I wasn't hurting and how to bury how I felt in order hide my vulnerability.  I don't like people to know how hurt I really feel.  Now that it's gone, I'm left with some emotional loose ends that probably need to be tied up.

Like everything else in life, I'm sure this is just a process that I have to muddle through and on the other side  I'll be fine. I just need some understanding, a hug, and the reassurance that I will be ok.

Real. Unedited and Unfiltered.

My view from Triangulation Peak earlier in the summer.  That was real.

I quit Facebook back at the beginning of quarantine. I mean, I've abandoned FB before so it's not a huge deal. This time I was craving a little more peace and solitude in my life. And maybe some privacy too. Seems like I was subject to "approval" for my life choices from people I didn't ask for an opinion. It was either "Leave me the f*&k alone and mind your own business" or close down my account. I chose the latter, being non confrontational and all. 

 I don't have any big epiphanies to share about my time away. Nothing profound changed in my life (I found TikTok!). It was quiet and I like that. 

 Social media does invade your mind, a little bit at a time. There is too much information constantly bombarding our lives. People's opinions, their carefully edited snapshots, unwanted input, unnecessary information, inaccurate facts....The list goes on and on. Sometimes all of this inspires but more often it dulls us and makes us cynical.

 As a person who has spent too much time in "the dark place" in recent years, I am learning to carefully guard where my time is now spent and where my mind goes to play. My real life, the one I get to actually participate in, is way too extraordinary to waste much time in an artificial cyber world.

"My" shop. 

 

 As much as I enjoy seeing pictures of people's vacations and their kids and their dogs, I have found that the view from my back patio is much more satisfying to me. Rather than spending hours getting caught up on everyone else's life, I'd rather spend time with my people and create a life with them.  

I read a few quotes that have really stuck with me:    

 No, Facebook (or Insta, or whatever your choice of social media might be) isn't bad. I'm definitely NOT saying that.  I think I'll even pop on occasionally and see what's happening.  

It's just that I crave real. Unfiltered, unedited real.  And social media falls short on that.

                                

Biggest bass I've every caught.  And Jake's finger.  And a Whatchamacallit and Coke.  Definitely unedited and unfiltered.

Sharing: Computers and Such.

My computer died. I've been using the same old MacBook for years and it finally gave up the ghost. Luckily, I've got someone pretty awesome who is willing to share with me in order to facilitate my rambling/writing. And I just finished a rather large iced coffee so I'm definitely in the rambling mode. I haven't written in a while. Probably because I've been too busy canning and gardening in this beautiful new place. And my laptop died (see above statement). And because I have valued my privacy much more than ever. Not just my own privacy either. I have a few things to talk about. Things like losing my job and finding balance. And FINALLY running Hood to Coast, albeit remotely. And maybe a few thoughts about finding balance in life. Did I mention finding balance? Seems to be a pretty big focus in these crazy, weird days. I'll get to all that pretty soon. Today I just want to focus on making all of my people happy and being certain they know how much I love them. I've got a new space, all my own, to write in and the time to set aside to make it happen. I also have a new driver who can do all of my errands for me so I never have to leave the house again unless I want to! Bliss, I tell you. My life is beautiful and good.

Corn

I've never been able to grow corn.  Tried many times, occasionally with minor success, but I've never had more than a few ears grow to maturity.

This year, it appears my luck has turned.

I've read before (probably in some wacky Anthroposophy/biodynamic book) about how your state of mind whilst tending a garden can affect the plants either negatively or positively.  I've always taken it to mean that if I work in the garden when I'm at peace and happy then my garden should flourish.  And vice versa.

Maybe that's been my problem with corn then?  And cucumbers, for that matter.

There's magic in this world.  I believe that more and more each day.  Things that don't make logical sense and things that suddenly manifest or fall into place....I don't want to understand it.  I just want to be a part of it.  The more I recognize it the more places I see it.

Blueberries and I haven't been friends either.  Never been able to get a patch established.  Now?  I have a beautiful, mature bunch of bushes that is producing so many of my favorite berries.  So.  Many.  I like to walk out in the morning and pick just enough to mix into my breakfast yogurt.  That's pretty magical.  At least in my world.

Cucumbers?  There will soon be pickles filling up my shelves again.  Tomatoes?  More than I'll know what to do with.  Green beans?  Well, those things have never judged me and have always given me plenty but I'm forever thankful for their non-judging magic.  I suppose they've been what's kept me gardening!

I tend this new garden, tilled up for me with selfless hard work and love and promise, quietly and gratefully.  I water it (probably more than I need to!) and weed it and fertilize it (with Dave's Super Alpaca Manure--it's a proprietary blend).  And I think the crazy magic that exists in the world is so present in this place.

 I see it.

What Day is It?

I'm beginning to lose track of what day it is.  Probably much like every other citizen of the world right now.  I've cooked and baked and sewed and knit and gardened and napped and watched TV and worked a little and homeschooled a little and run some and hung out at home a lot.  All of this unencumbered time has allowed me to do some uninterrupted thinking too.  Maybe even a little introspection?

Scary thought, right?!

If you would have asked me last year at this time what I would be doing today I highly doubt ANY part of my current existence would be part of that answer.  Seriously.  I don't think there's any part of the present that I could have anticipated.  And you know what?  I'm so thankful that it all unfolded (even this Corona/Covid thing) without any assistance from me.  It was all some magical, providential timing.  I didn't push or plead or manipulate a thing.

I think my faith in the universe has been restored.

I'm old and you know what they say about old dogs and new tricks.  Gosh, once I write those words out I realize how overused this cliche is!  But it's still such an accurate analogy that I can't find anything that could better take its place.   We're going with it then.   I'm old.  And I've learned plenty of new tricks in the past year.

I've learned how to fall in love and create a beautiful life with an amazing person.  I've learned how to see that life through a different lens and adjust accordingly.  I've learned about different things to consider when parenting my kids.  I've learned about letting things go.  I've learned how to let someone into my life and how to trust that they will do anything to help me become a better version of myself.  I've learned how to ignore people and things and not respond all the time.  I have learned that I am not always right. Ahem.  I have been beautifully humbled.

Yes, I'm old, but I'm still learning.

Have you ever tried to tighten the cap on a bottle or the threads connecting hoses together?  You know how sometimes you get those threads off kilter?  Cross-threaded?  It might all look ok to the naked eye and it might even appear that everything is in working order.  But then there's a little bit of pressure that builds up or a little heavy usage and WHAM!  everything explodes in a glorious catastrophe.

Up until recently, I think that's how I have been accustomed to living.  Things look fine to the outside world, but inside, I was not threaded right.  Life had a way of blowing my cross-threaded existence apart.  I feel like I've been screwed back together correctly for the first time ever.  Maybe this realization and the accompanying feelings can be attributed to age and experience or maybe it's just some sort of magic.  (I like to think it's definitely magic.) All I know is that the wonky bits are fitting correctly.

I'm still learning about life and stuff.  I honestly hope that part never ends.  But I'm also breathing a sigh of pure contentment and enjoying a level of fulfillment that was incomprehensible until now.

I feel such gratitude for all of it.

Contentment

Contentment:  noun; the state of happiness and satisfaction

This has not been a familiar feeling for me for many years.

A sweet friend mentioned to me that other day how strange it was to see me idle in my new home.  To not hear of the latest plans I had to repaint a room or rearrange some furniture or redecorate some space was not something she had ever witnessed with me before.  This got me thinking.  And she was correct.  Reinvention has always been a part of me.

That, in turn, made me think about why I changed things so often?  Gosh, did I have some crazy, deep-seated issues that made me redo everything in my life in order to escape reality or hide from myself?  Was this a horrible habit that I would forever continue to revisit?   Was it really actually even a bad thing?

Sorta kinda.

You see, I think that discontent has been my companion for many years.  I haven't exactly been unhappy, certainly not miserable, but not content or fulfilled either.  Something always seemed to be missing and that missing thing is what I was always attempting to find through changing things around me.  "Order (or reorder) your surroundings and your life will follow" has always felt right to me.

I believe that a certain amount of change is good for us all.  It encourages flexibility and helps us be open to learning new things.  But being in a constant state of the redo makes us forget, albeit temporarily, our reality.  It also makes us ungrateful for what we already do possess.

I haven't painted a single wall since I've been here.  Not one.  Well, except for the chalkboard wall in the basement but that was for Sarah's use.  I haven't rearranged anything besides a few shelves in the kitchen either.  I haven't insisted on much really.  I've just been.  Allowed things to unfold.  Let other people make the decisions.  And do you know what I've learned from this?  I have learned contentment.

Look at that definition at the top of the page, please.  That is where I am.  For the first time in many years, if not for the first time ever, I am living in the present--the now-- surrounded by happiness and satisfaction.  *happy sigh* There is not room here for sadness or anger or regret or envy or fear or whatever it is that contributes to the discontent.

Read the definition again.  It has taken a lifetime to get to this place, both literally and figuratively.  And this is exactly where I want to stay.