Catch Up

 I've been writing and editing and meeting with writers and neglected the blog. I apologise. I need to catch up with you all too.

I went for a walk yesterday. This would mean nothing to most of you but I'm telling you, this was a very major thing for me.

I went without George, my cane, scoped the area (it was a path around a lake - called ponds here no matter the size - I'm very fond of as it was one of Ansa's favourites) to check for resty spots and headed off. It wasn't much of a walk but boy after so very long being so very immobilized it was enormous to me. I was so happy I cried.

I had missed the cheerful greetings of strangers on little hikes, genuine good mornings and how are you doings. I had missed the winter birds bombing around, missed the myriads of dogs being walked ready to greet me. Missed the mittens and wee hat and a goodly scarf around my neck. Like a winter-walking human being.

Yesterday, in total, I had completed 2,000 steps in my day. Unimaginable even a couple of months ago while I was still, in the dark hours of the night, sleeping napping, curled up like a pretzel in pain in my recliner for months thinking a bed would never be in my future again.

But life is strange and wonderful and full of surprises. 

And I'm packing a lot of it in at the moment. I've been playing this. A favourite from the seventies and always relevant to my life for some reason.

And my Christmas cactus is right on time with her blooms with a bit of competition from the African violet.

A powerful lesson in embracing just the moments. As life can change in a heartbeat.

 

Serendipity

One of my great good fortunes this summer was to host not one, but two community theatre directors, one from BC and the other from Ontario.

Brain picking ensued.

One of my life long dreams is to have another community theatre.

Another you say?

Well yes. I started my own community theatre in my neighbourhood when I was 8 years old. And I have a picture to prove it. Of the entire cast. I was director, writer, lead actor, props manager and stage manager. What's that you say? Ego? I didn't know better. It was all about me and I absolutely loved it. And thought at the time: I could spend my life doing this. I do have to find the photo and post it here.

So now, I'm trying to do the exact same thing in my neighbourhood here. I got brilliant suggestions from my guests and I'd absolutely love to make this a go. I tried several years back with no success as the team evaporated to other projects.

But this time? I have hope. I am invigorated. Re-vitalized with all the challenges of the past couple of years firmly behind me. A rebirth and renewal of spirit it seems.

So few years left. So much delightful stuff to do.

Life comes full circle.

This time I'll share.

This Much is True

Still life lunch. Alas, no, none of it grown by me.

I've come out of the shadow of darkness. Everybody keeps telling me. I look better, sound better, talk better, respond better. That's good.

A major part of this was letting go. Of so much I can't begin to tell you. Not just the 3 beloveds who died, but also my past, my missing daughter, and on.

Finding a new purpose(s), taking care of my health which is not terrific, being honest, distancing myself from those who harm me. Taking stock. Feeling pleased with the inventory. Finding some new projects, one over dinner last night with a long time client who's visiting St.John's for a conference and is expanding her core business and wants me on board for a while with this. Fortuitous.

July is heavily booked with my PGs, the anthology just about ready to go to print, a 3-day (free!)vacation planned with a dear friend to visit another friend's newly opened gallery about 250km from here, with side-visits to other places of interest.

And I spent some time designing a new afghan for a beloved niece. And was excited to get it on the needles this morning. Quite a few have said I should make a little industry out of this too, maybe I will.

All in all, I do love this quiet place in bright sunshine I find myself in. I think we only appreciate such contentment when we have wrestled for long stretches in the dark with shadows and hurt and pain.

And a huge bonus is knowing, truly and deeply, who one's soul friends are.

And it can be delightful to discover those who really care.

Along with stopping the cartwheels for those who couldn't give a tosser.

I am so grateful.

I truly feel reborn.