Be a Lighthouse

I found the light within myself and suddenly, I seem to find myself surrounded with people, invitations and social contact like rarely before. What is going on here?

It started small. I extended a few invitations to my children and there was sporadic acceptance but most of all, the seed that was planted was "hope". "I would have come if ..." instead of a comfortable "Thanks, but no thanks" to an invitation in my half hearted attempt to try to have my family sit together at one table.

Invitations that were comfortable were accepted. I get that. I so get that! When saying "yes" is hard, I like the invitation to draw me in. Different things draw different people. But in the course of two weekends, I sat down with all three of my sons at a supper table. Two different tables, but it was still a success in my books. I see it as three out of three "yeses". That is okay with me.

That was preceded and followed by other invitations. Some easy yeses, other more difficult yeses. But I said "yes" to all. And it was good. I have a great love of staying home, sequestered in quiet, safety without the need to be, say or do anything. The love of staying comfortable was overruled by the desire to peek out of my fortress of solitude and test out the waters. The water was fine.

Doing hard things is becoming easier. Not so long ago, when I dared to push myself out of my comfort zone, every movement was painful. Leaving the house. Arriving. Talking. How do I get out of here? I was looking for a quick and easy exit so I could hightail it back into my den of comfort. I did it. But it was so hard. I started to say "no" (but thank you) when the going got too rough.

Over the course of the past few months, the spark within me has been lit and it has burst into a flame. I'm somewhat fearful of what will happen when I stop fanning the flame and feeding the fire within. Change always does this for me. I can't go turning my world upside down every time I slip into the blues, so there is a wariness about this fire. But for now, the fire is burning and I even see some embers that will keep it going if it dies down. Embers are good. Embers are better than sparks or the continual need to "feed the fire".

This week has been full of family, conversation, inviting people into my world and accepting invitations that have taken me out of my oasis. A few short months ago, the mere thought of a "week like this" would have brought me to my knees. The need to hold up my end of a conversation, reach out, get to know a new person and have the ability to be still and simply listen was out of reach. I tried. A little. But it was simply so much easier to grab my blanket, curl up on the couch and numb myself with TV, snack foods and sleep.

I still find myself longing to go back to that place of great comfort but there seems to be less time to spend in that space of numbing myself. This is good.

I have been in unfamiliar and uncomfortable places, meeting new people and holding conversations that aren't commonplace for me. And it's been okay. In fact, I'm embarrassing myself a little bit. I am too bubbly, too talkative, too ... much. "Rein it in, girl!" runs through my mind as words spew from my mouth and I seem unable to harness the exuberance I'm feeling. But I just keep overflowing. I exhaust myself so I cannot begin to comprehend how exhausting I may be, to be around.

Then this morning, this arrived in my inbox (thank you "ProjectHappiness.com"!):

"Be a lighthouse. Stand where you are and let your light shine so bright that others may see their way out of the dark. Trust that, like moths to a flame, those seeking the light will meet you there. 'Everything changes when you start to focus on emitting your own energy frequency rather than absorbing or lowering yourself to match the frequencies around you'."

Maybe I'm just standing still shining and others are finding their way to me. I need to focus on my own energy force. I do know that I felt badly about feeling so good when so many others are dealing with so much more than I. Maybe I smothered my own flame until it died out altogether. I have been letting the sadness of the world around me in too much. I need to find a middle ground. I need listen with an open heart, be still with the world's pain and discomfort without letting it extinguish my fire. I must take that discomfort and become active with it. Pain without action is painful. Pain that stimulates action provides purpose and keeps the flame burning.

Be a lighthouse. I like those words and the visual that goes along with it. I'm going to try and share this newfound light with the world around me and savor whatever and whoever it may attract.

Where Have All My Writers Gone?

I follow about eight blog writers religiously. I wake up in the morning, make my morning smoothie, grab my cup of coffee and sit down at the computer in anticipation of reading their words. Half of those writers used to update their blog an a (nearly) daily basis. The other few had semi-regular posts so it was always good to check in, just in case there was a surprise post. And there often were. Out of my regular bloggers, only one of them still updates on a semi-regular daily basis. The periodic updaters seem to have all but stopped blogging. Most of them have moved onto updating their Facebook statuses instead.

I'm not a great fan of Facebook. Yes, it has its place and I have found inspiration, a few lost friends, corresponded via private messages and connected in an up close and personal way. Yes, it is a nice way to keep tabs on what is important within your friend's lives. Yes, it is a nice way to share news or frivolous little observations about life that is important to you or strikes your funny bone. But I don't want to "live" there. I don't want to have to go their to find my morning sustenance. When I sit down in the morning, I look forward to the "stories" my bloggers have to tell. They don't have to be deep and thought provoking every time. They don't have to be "anything" all of the time. I just love sitting down with my morning smoothie and reading a little bit of something that someone I enjoy listening to has to share with the world. I look forward to it.

I am trying (and not succeeding too terribly well) rid myself of the Facebook habit. I have "unfollowed" everyone I know, every group I've joined or liked and my Facebook feed is down to the "Gilmore Girls". I don't want to miss out on the excitement of the countdown to the Gilmore Girls reunion at the end of November. So they get to stay.

I can still sit down and check in on my friend's new posts (and I do), but I enjoy waking up to an empty Facebook page. I sit and fritter away far too much time scrolling. I don't want to dig to find morsels of writing by my favorite writers on Facebook. I much prefer finding them in their own little corner of the blogging world. It is much more of a "sit down and get to know you" place.

In fact, I would like to get the courage to close down my Facebook page altogether but my on-line auction sites are through Facebook so that is my excuse for staying. At least for now.

Inspiration can still be found whichever way you look on the Internet. TED Talks, YouTube interviews with those who inspire me and tracking down articles written by my favorite authors are all still viable sources of "sustenance" for me. But honestly? Sometimes (like always) I don't want to have to work so hard to find what I want I'm looking for. In the morning, I don't want to be assaulted by audio/video. I want to read. I love the quietness and thoughtfulness that goes into the reading process.

I miss the daily updates from my favorite bloggers. I have been tracking them down via their Facebook feed but it just isn't the same. Facebook (in my mind) is more about the social contact and instant feedback. I can get lost reading the comments and I forget to think for myself as I listen to the way everyone else interpreted a quick update from an excellent writer and spokesperson.

Facebook is like fast food. It is quick, easy, fills a void and keeps you coming back for more. Blogging is more of a "let's sit down and eat a five course meal together". You sit, you converse, you laugh and you walk away from the table with more than the food sustaining you. You aren't searching the cupboards for "more" after a real meal. Facebook keeps drawing you back, just like I'm always searching for snacks immediately after a fast food meal. It's addictive, it's not good for you on a daily basis and there is a hollowness that never quite fills the void.

Facebook, I am so almost over you. We would be done if it weren't for the fact that my favorite authors are hooked on you and I can't find their daily input anywhere else. Bloggers rejoice. Please keep coming back for the "meat and potatoes" and the real meal deals. I miss you...

Best. Weekend. Ever!

"Balance" is everything when it comes to my happy factor. Filling myself up with a little work, play, soul fulfilling and family time during a weekend (or any given day) and life is pretty much perfect. And such was this past long weekend.

I had one good, productive day of bookkeeping. It filled the day, I picked up supper, came home and crashed on the couch. But it was good. My work there was done. I would wake up to two more days off to follow. Oh, what one can do with TWO days!

I started each weekend day filling up on all things Brené and Glennon. Brené Brown and Glennon Doyle Melton, unbeknownst to them, are two of my soul sisters. In my mind we are the best of friends. I love hanging out with them and lucky for me, they have teamed up and created an on-line course "The Wisdom of Story" on CourageWorks.com. It's great. I could listen to them all day. But I settled for an hour or so. I filled up my soul and carried on.

Sunday morning, I had coffee with a friend who lives five hours away. She was nestled up inside her world, I was snug and cozy in mine. We picked up the phone and chatted like the good friends we are. An hour and a half with the first sister I adopted of my own. We were "related" by marriage. The marriage didn't last but our sister-in-law relationship has transcended time, distance and several life transitions. I thoroughly enjoyed our coffee date.

Then came the work.

I spent the remainder of Sunday culling, sorting, photographing and marketing the excessive daycare wares within our home. I can't believe how long it is taking to get down to what I call a "bare minimum" which is still more than any one child could ever need in a home or daycare environment. I thought this past weekend would be it. I was pulling out the "dregs" of what I have left to sell. I was convinced I could put it all up for auction. I have 27 children's items up for sale this week. Since I was "clearing out" my children's merchandise, I started adding some items to another household auction. I put 11 more items up for sale there. Total bids as of 8:45 last night were $215.00. The auction ends tonight and judging by the activity on these auctions, I suspect there will be a last minute flurry of activity and my final sales will jump from last night's total. It is a time consuming little task but I have achieved my goal of selling $1000.00 worth of belongings within 6 weeks instead of my forecast of  15 to 16 weeks to reach that total.

It was another good day's work. In fact I seem to be making a game out of this purging and selling habit I've developed. I'm thinking maybe my next career could be hiring myself out to help people purge their excess, with a clause within the contract stating I could sell whatever I found marketable for my own profit. Food for thought ...

Then I woke up to Thanksgiving Day morning. My work here was done. I could put my feet up and relax. Which I did. All morning. All I had to do was tidy the house for company, run out and buy food to serve for supper, then throw it all together, call it a meal and enjoy my company for the evening.

Well! The thing about clearing out the excess is the energy and motivation that follows. I stepped out of my cozy little oasis and did "one small thing". I believe that thing was to open up the closet doors within the laundry room to see what progress I was making there, when I realized I should clean the air exchanger. Then change the furnace filter. Why not dust, sweep and vacuum the laundry room (please note, I have not YET used the term "clean") while I was right there?

Low and behold, I found one of the missing cat toys behind the deep freeze which sent me on a mission. I ran upstairs, pulled out the oven and found no more cat toys but I did find enough cat hair to warrant literally vacuuming my way out of the laundry room, up the stairs and in behind the oven. I don't even know if I had moved the oven back against the wall when I decided I may as well pull out the fridge too. I don't want to admit how long it has been since I've done that. I've thought long and hard about it a few times over the course of the past few years but actions did not follow (in my defence, I have invested in a yard stick for the purpose of retrieving lost cat toys from under the stove and fridge and it does a very decent job at clearing out the cat hair while I'm at it).

This was crazy. My supper guests were going to be arriving in two hours and I was still in my pajamas, hadn't bought groceries nor had a shower. I felt like Mr. Incredible as he races off to save the world a few or three times while he is trying to make it to the church in time to get married. "I still have time" he says in his deep, super hero voice as he catches a few more criminals and saves a cat that was stuck in a tree along his way.

And I still hadn't scoured the bathroom or shone up the kitchen. Yikes! I was losing the battle.

I was still peeling the last of the potatoes when my company arrived. Thankfully 90% of my meal was pre-cooked or came our of a box, bag or baked goods container. All I basically had to do was just add water" (or not), heat and stir.

Voila!! We sat down to a meal well cooked (thank you Co-op deli department!) and our small, cozy family Thanksgiving supper.

I was some kind of exhilarated after such a perfectly balanced weekend of work, play, friendship and family. I sat down at the tail end of a fulfilling weekend and just exhaled. It was good. It was so good.

And the good just keeps getting better! After my guests left, I found a text message from my cousin from Ontario. She obviously must have intended to send this message to someone else, but I replied with great enthusiasm and excitement when answering her question "Will you be home tomorrow morning? I just have to drop my husband off at the airport and I'll stop by for coffee..." Hilarious, I thought. Her husband is a pilot and works out of Toronto. She obviously thought she was texting my uncle. I replied that "Of COURSE I would be home and love to have coffee!", and laughed as I added "You do know you are texting 'Colleen, in Saskatoon', do you?" And she replied that YES! She did mean to text me and that her husband was heading home from their visit to see her parents and she was staying a little longer.

Well, knock me over with a feather! I have company coming this morning!! And with my daycare crowd of "one", we should be able to work in a very good visit. AND (and this is the best part), I added "Stay for lunch! I have chicken on a bun and pumpkin pie!" I never have ready-made offerings of food to offer. Never!

If you make it, they will come ...

And they did.

Thankful for Invitations

I was invited to a pre-Thanksgiving meal a week ago and before we ate our meal, our host asked each of us at the table what we were thankful for. "Invitations" came immediately to mind and stayed there. I didn't want to take the time to marinade that thought because I didn't want to miss hearing what the others were saying. When my turn came, I mumbled something to the effect of "Invitations ... like this one" and I added an unrelated thought and was grateful when the torch was passed to the person beside me. I said the word that was in my heart but I didn't add my heart to what I was saying.

I have been rejecting a lot of the world's invitations lately. I was struggling and it was getting harder and harder to find the energy to pull myself out of my safe place at home and into the world. Even when I was being invited into the warm arms of friendship. I was tired. So tired. I was broken and I didn't want light to shine upon who I was because I was so lost. Yet I kept receiving invitations.

Some invitations come out of the blue and all you have time to do is go. No time to think. You just pack up and leave. I had one of those invitations during my summer holidays and I went. I just followed the road and I was there. Exactly where I needed to be.

If I had been given time to wonder and think too long, I would have said, "I'll be there next week". In fact that is exactly what I had said mere hours before my "invitation" to drop everything and go immediately. I appreciate when life has other plans. When I'm busy overthinking something, gathering my resources and pumping myself up so I have the courage to walk out the door donning a mask of courage I don't feel, I often talk myself out of taking that very first step. It is ever so much easier when the invitation is immediate. Come. Now! When there is no time to think, I automatically do the right thing.

Some invitations are so hard to accept. "Would you like to join me and my family for a meal the day after tomorrow?" My initial response was "Do you remember the song from Sesame Street 'One of these things is not like the other. One of things just doesn't belong'? I don't feel like I belong."

But I belong to this wonderful club of "sister friends" who feel like family to me and the feeling is mutual. I believe I have been on a life long quest to collect sisters ever since my childhood. The sisters I longed for were grown up and married before I turned into a real life "sister" myself. My brother was five years younger than me so we didn't connect as a close brother/sister team until I moved out of the city. I've had family my whole life but I missed the connection that "The Waltons", "The Brady Bunch" and all the other TV programs of the 1970's depicted. I was lost but I was found all at the same time.

I have visions of my sisters "riding out on their white horses" at pivotal times throughout my life. Times when (as Glennon Doyle Melton describes as) I was being evicted out of the life I expected to be living and invited into a new (and better) one.

My sisters (those related by blood and those I have adopted along the way) have been there for me, with me and behind me during these times of great crisis invitations. We laughed when we wanted to cry. These life evictions bonded us, as each time we merge at a time of need or crisis we have forged a tighter bond. When you fear the very ground you are walking on is crumbling, it is good to have someone to hold onto. Times of crisis, times of celebration and no special time at all have all been invitations into each other's lives.

When life is comfortable and all appears well, there are often undercurrents of a quiet knowledge that things must change. I'm not good at making necessary change unless I receive a formal eviction. I seem to need the drama that comes with a forced eviction to make much needed change. My eviction notices have evolved into "handing in my notice" as the years have unfolded. It is so much harder to walk away from life as you know it when all seems well. Except when the deepest part of your knowing is telling you to let go. It is a little bit like that invitation you receive two months before the actual event. "So much can happen in two months!" races through my mind at those invitations. I'd so much rather just show up at the last minute.

My pre-Thanksgiving day invitation was a little bit like that. The fear monger which lives inside my head was so afraid to say "yes". I don't belong raced through my mind even though my friend assured me I was wrong. It was an honor to be invited into the arms of friendship and a family where blood ties didn't exist.

I've always shunned those "invitations" I have felt I have received because it was the right thing to do. The obligatory Mother's Day supper, invitations just because I'm my mother's daughter or it is the expected thing to do. This invitation came from a place of "I would like you to join us if you are free". No, but thank you was just as acceptable as yes, please! I was chosen.

We fall into some of our invitations and some invitations are well thought out. I appreciate all the invitations I receive. Sometimes I may not act on them as I should and that is when life conks me over the head with a 2 by 4 and knocks me silly (those seem to be the times my sisters show up out of the blue). I am grateful I haven't been knocked unconscious lately. I'm accepting and declining invitations with a clear head and an open mind.

I'm grateful life is always extending me an invitation to keep moving forward, out of my head and into the world. That is a lot to be grateful for.

P.S. Since I've been on the receiving end of so many invitations lately, I do believe it is time to get off the couch and start sending out my own invitations. I will start today.

A Quiet Knowing - If I Empty it They Will Come

I've been enjoying the peacefulness that comes from living in a house that doesn't feel like a daycare zone. It is a little bit blissful to wander into a living room that isn't accessorized by a Little Tikes kitchen, a "princess corner", along with a wall lined with toys that don't fit into the toy cupboard. I can sit with my back to the ball house (which is too large to move out of the living room without being disassembled) and our house feels like a home again.

Bedroom doors are open, the cats are free to roam (and shed) all over the house again, with the exception of our #1 spare room (having three spare bedrooms is confusing, I know), where the queen guest bed resides. I've been opening up the blinds in the previously unused, closed off rooms and the sun is radiating through the house like never before.

We have so much space around us, it is ridiculous. Thank goodness I still have one daycare daughter to tend. She quite enjoys her new play space, access to the books and full run of most of the upstairs. She naps in the closed off spare room, so while I'm tending even one child I feel like I'm getting my money's worth out of our home's square footage.

I feel like I'm rediscovering our home all over again. As it was, when we first moved into this house I seem to find myself gravitating toward the room that started out as a TV room, then my room, then a spare room, then a quiet room and is presently labelled the "play room":

Notice the easy right-hand access to a coffee table, with the computer plugged into an easily accessible wall socket, with a futon adorned with multiple pillow options to support my back and neck (with a cat at my side which is always a pleasant accessory to add to any room). I grabbed the stool for some foot elevation, there is a TV on the wall opposite the futon and there is absolutely everything I need to create a cozy little retreat. It feels like the oasis I call my bedroom. I'm loving it in here!

I am seeing our house through new eyes these days. It is still in a state of transition and many of our rooms are undergoing a bit of an identity crisis but I continue to feel strongly that our house will soon be much too big for our needs.

I sit here and look at the room I'm savoring at the moment. Once all the daycare paraphernalia is removed, all that will remain is a dresser which contains items that could easily re-homed. The closet holds my income tax papers going back to the beginning of our lives here in Saskatoon. I don't believe Revenue Canada will ever ask me to go back 29 years for some document. In all honesty, all that closet requires is a huge, industrial sized personal shredder. This room could be of a no-name, generic variety in the course of a few short hours.

Our "official spare bedroom" holds some of my excess clothing. Clothes that never made the move to my new bedroom. Clothes that haven't been worn, needed or looked at for a year. A few garbage bags and a donation would clean out that closet in two shakes of a lamb's tail (what the heck is that, my fingers wonder as they type?). It is the two under-the-bed storage containers of memories, letters and sentimental belongings under the bed which may take the better part of a month to sort through. Other than that, another room could be de-personalized within an hour or less (if I just pack up those boxes and deal with them at a later date).

Our third spare bedroom was an appointed "office space" at one time. It holds a computer desk, a closet with a shelf or two of notes, letters and information I amassed while collecting stories for my parent's family's books-of-memories. This room contains all the books I have collected over the years, a filing cabinet which I had planned to fill with the required seven years of income tax documentation required by Revenue Canada, but instead it sits empty under a box which holds every income tax return my dad ever filed. I can't quite bear to rid myself of those documents. "There is a story within those documents" is what my quiet inner voice tells me. I hold onto Dad's paperwork for much the same reason I hold onto my own. It is a timeline of Dad's/my life's work. It is part of how I define myself and remember my dad. It may take a lot longer to empty that room. That "office space" holds much more than documents. It contains Dad's life's work and two family's books of memories. Maybe I need to find a vault to hold what this room contains. It is of no use or interest to anyone else but me.

I have one day to work this long, Thanksgiving weekend. I have another day to accumulate another week's worth of items to sell on my favorite on-line auction site. I have invited my family to come share a meal together under our roof on the third day. Thankfully I am not known for my culinary skills, so our meal will not take the entire day to prepare. So I can clean a little, cull a little and think about how I want to redefine our space within this home of ours.

When the clutter and excess are gone, the dressers and closets emptied of everything that is not essential what will be left? How much can I simplify this life of ours over the course of the next three months? How far can I go? And what am I making room for?

There is not one thing whispering in my ear telling me the answers I am seeking. I just keep looking within these walls of ours and hear "Purge and release"and "Make room for change". If I empty it, they will come ...

I'm living in "The Field House of Dreams". I don't know where I'm going but I know what I must do next. That is enough for now.

Christmas

I'm waking up in the darkness these days, turning on different lights as I walk through my morning routines. This morning thoughts of Christmas and the white light which surrounds Christmas enveloped me.

I thought of two things: "light" and "noise". I am craving calming light and a soothing soundtrack right now.

The very first (and perhaps only) constructive thing I did during my summer holiday was to change the ring tones on my cell phone. I wanted sounds that were calm and soothing to my ear. The factory preset sounds were those of loud, annoying urgency. I softened the tones and felt calmer.

This morning, I noticed how peace enveloped me when lights were turned on in rooms adjacent to where I was existing. Muted lighting was soothing. I felt calmer.

Artificial light and sound feel too harsh for me right now. Sunlight, moonlight, starlight, lights in a distance are just fine. I find the lights within the kitchen too harsh, so I turn on the light above the stove or the light in the entrance ways instead. I am amazed at how much that soothes my ragged soul.

Last night, I got a text from one of my parents who found a new daycare. I was terrified to read it. I have lived this week #1 of Quiet Daycare Existence in fear that the new daycares my charges have found have not worked out and I will get an unexpected "SOS" from one of my families begging me to take their children back until they find a "better fit". I should not have been surprised to find out that I was the one who was the bad fit for these children. The mom who wrote me last night told me their children are doing great at the new daycare so far. "It's a great fit." Which makes me fearful I am not the best person for the job of tending the last daycare child left standing (which I confessed to this parent first thing this morning and she assured me they were content with the daycare arrangements as they stand).

As it is with "Christmas", the white lights and the sense of giving ... on the flip side of finding the perfect gift for one person, you fear that the other gifts you give may pale in comparison.

Also, as it is with "Christmas" I seem to be torn in what direction I need to turn first in the gift of this time of newfound quietness. There is so much I want to fit into this season of my life. I must first learn to trust it will last as long as it needs to last.

I have found the time and space to bring "Glennon" and "Brené" back into my world. I read Glennon Doyle Melton's memoir "Love Warrior" in a day. A day! Unheard of, for me (the one with the attention span of a gnat). The next morning, I went back to the online course "The Wisdom of Story" (with Glennon and Brené Brown) I had all but forgotten. Their words were meant to come to me right now. I feel a healing balm soothing my ragged soul.

My first week of living a quieter life hasn't been what I expected. I'm not sure exactly what I expected but it wasn't "this". It wasn't the week I just lived. I've coasted. I haven't worked, I haven't accomplished anything, I haven't found the quietness yet. But Glennon and Brené are showing me a path. A path only I can choose to take. One path that may or may not take me to exactly where I need to be.

"This" is not where I expected to be at this junction of my life. I thought I would have figured things out by now. But I'm still searching, still seeking, still craving. Something. I'm not sure what it is but when I find out, it will be a gift.

Merry Christmas. As if I needed to be reminded of the season I am headed towards, Mother Nature sped things along for us here. This is our new world at the moment. I wasn't quite ready for it but it came anyway. Life is a little bit like that.

Winter is Coming

The risk of living on the flip side of the low grade blues I have been feeling for the last long while, is the euphoric side of that very same emotion. With every new bit of hope, excitement, idea and sense of happy which I feel, I feel cautious. Don't feel too good. Keep a close eye on the manic side of a depressive state. Enjoy the moment with caution. Keep grounded.

I am sitting here, enjoying my quiet morning hours with my second cup of coffee in hand feeling the desire to simply coast for just a little while. Maybe a day. Maybe two. I'm revelling in the fact that my ambition level is growing but I long for silence, solitude and those moments when the quiet sense of "knowing" starts to enter my consciousness.

I feel more present and accounted for, in my role as "mom". I'm sitting on the sidelines, listening to my children look towards their future and set their sights on something "beyond where they are" and I am silently cheering, hoping and encouraging them onward and out of the plateau they have reached.

A plateau. That is exactly where I feel I am. It is safe here. I can sit still and enjoy the view. I'm at a point where (I hope) the hardest part of the climb is behind me. Yet I look up at some of the terrain ahead and feel pretty ill equipped to conquer the climb which is yet to come. It is best not to look that far ahead. One doesn't know what lies around the next corner. It could be a slippery slope but it could just as easily be a scenic path which still takes me where I am going.

The fear of the unknown. It is easier to take those first, hard steps if you feel you are standing on solid, familiar ground to start with. A safe place to fall. A sense of feeling grounded.

I am two days into my three month work slow down. I don't have to define my path quite yet. I will keep "feathering this nest" and work on becoming grounded. I will allow the dreams to waft in, out and through my consciousness. I will allow myself to believe in a world which is filled with possibilities. I want to become more of who I already am and grow. I need to grow.

My root system is strong. I feel like a tree which has been stripped of its leaves right now. I'm hunkering in for the winter. It snowed last night and I woke up feeling just a little like the day.

Winter is okay. Winter is only a season. New life follows winter. I'm hunkering down, battening the hatches and ready to weather the unknown terrain ahead. I just hope for enough plateaus, blue skies and clear sailing to enjoy the voyage instead of fighting the whole season in survival mode.

"Trust you are exactly where you are meant to be." These are the words that keep coming back to me when I start to waiver. These are the words that sneak into my consciousness in between the purging and releasing. These are the words that assure me when I wonder "What in the world are you going to do next?!"

I am not walking into this winter season of my life feeling complacent. I feel anything but that. There is an undercurrent of ideas, thoughts and far fetched plans pelting at me like sleet against a window. I don't want to be driven by those forces. I will wait. A soft, welcoming shower will replace the cold, harsh frozen ice I feel on my face. The rain will come. Spring always follows winter. I am exactly where I am meant to be right now.