Sometimes, you need to just go with the flow. Take it one day at a time. Good with the bad, highs with the lows, just go with it. The last month or so has been full of challenges and difficulties, but delightful moments have also popped up to warm me in the shadows. I’m going to have a few days off from work at the end of the month that I hope will be a time to recharge and reset for the coming new year, but in the meantime, I’m trying to float along. I’m just going with it.
This week my mind is all over the place — Holidays soon! Thanksgiving to clean up after! Gifts to buy! Here are a few fun things on my radar at the moment:
I’m in love with this faux fur coat — it’s beautiful cozy coats like this that make me wish for colder weather!
These are beautiful.
images via: ofakind.com,, Matthew Inman, Bornn enamelware
On this odd in-between day between Thanksgiving with friends and Thanksgiving with family, I am simply grateful. Grateful for good friends and warm hearts, for my loving family and sweet furry companions, and for my own little spark of optimism that helps me get through the days that seem too hard. In my heart, I am taking a moment to be still and give thanks.
“Now I think it’s one of the most useless questions an adult can ask a child — What do you want to be when you grow up? As if growing up is finite. As if at some point you become something and that’s the end.”
–Michelle Obama, Becoming
Thank you, Michelle, for this beautiful observation, and for reminding us of our infinite potential. This Friday I am thinking about growing up, growing older, and what it means to “be” something when you grow up. We are not our professions. We are not only defined by the work we do. And we are always evolving, changing, growing, becoming something new. We are more than the sum of our parts.
Myself, I am striving to find a happy middle ground between becoming and being, moving forward vs. holding myself in the present moment. But it is a real comfort to know that no matter where I am now or who I feel like I “am” at present, I always have the opportunity to become something else — to become something more.
This past weekend was one of the hardest of my life. We put our dog Oliver to sleep yesterday, my sweet boy. He was 17 years old. As much as I agonized over when, I know now it was the right time. He always hated being picked up, but on Sunday morning he didn’t mind at all, just trusted us as I lifted him and sat him on my lap in the car. Lots of pets and kisses. It was quick and painless, and I think he knew he was loved and cared for, right up to the end. I had tears running down my cheeks all morning, and we sobbed there in the room after. Pulled it together enough to head home, and then I cried again at home as soon as I saw his empty bed. I miss him, but I am at peace and I hope he is too. Peaceful and happy, and no longer a prisoner of his aging little body.
I didn’t realize quite how much medication had become Oliver’s new normal until I cleaned everything out this weekend. Our pantry feels remarkably uncluttered in comparison. The cat’s kibble is in the second food container, now that his reviled prescription kidney food is gone. Likewise the kitchen floor feels oddly empty, with only one pair of dog dishes and the extra rug out of the center of the room. We’re going to be getting used to being a family of eight paws instead of twelve over the coming days and weeks. It simultaneously feels like a sad emptiness and a weight lifted — not fussing over medication schedules and attempts at feeding him, not listening for any signs of distress or vomiting from him in the night. I miss him already. In the meantime, life winds on, and we hold our memories close. Almost fifteen and half years of love. Until we meet again, my bear, my dear sweet Oliver.
(for now) there is stillness amidst
what was once her maelstrom
whirling slowed into a lilting-soft song/dance
less frightened, more eager
no longer slamming her body against the walls
of an invisible cage
(for now) she is perhaps not sated, but quiescent
he has soothed the beast within
brought her light
velveted the darkness
into an appealing purple twilight
she has sheathed her claws
(for now) they do not reflect the cold moonlight
instead (for now) she allows his warmth
to thaw her edges
–Charla M. DelaCuadra
Today is the day to make our voices heard! Please vote today!
Despite all of my concerns for the world today, the tragic violence of yet another mass shooting, and the dismal reality of each day’s news, I am buoyed by hope. Midterm elections are this November 6th, and I encourage each and every one of you to seize your power and your voice. We all lose when we are silenced. Your vote matters, and your voice matters.
Joanna Goddard shared four things to do to get ready to vote, including helpful resources to educate yourself if you are feeling a bit lost about where your polling place is, what the issues are, or even how to get to the polls.
I believe in us, and I believe in our country. Remember, a journey of 1,00 miles begins with a single step.
(Photo via The Sunday Post 16th May 1911)
“As I stared at myself in the mirror, I thought about what it would be like to paint my own portrait. Say I were to try, what sort of self would I end up painting?”
–Haruki Murakami, Killing Commendatore
Thanks to Erin Boyle I stumbled across a beautiful mediation on home, travel, and belonging in Candace Rose Rardon’s essay, Home is a Cup of Tea. She combines sweet sketches with simple musings about traveling, moving, settling, loving, and living — and how we define “home.” Like Rardon, I have fond memories of drinking tea. The tall, narrow cupboard in my childhood home full of tea tins, the fun of choosing a flavor for that particular afternoon, and the steamy, milky sweetness in my cup.
Even though the world may be extraordinarily challenging and difficult right now, we can pull strength and resilience from a sense of home, whatever that might be for each of us. Some days, a cup of tea and a quiet moment to recharge are exactly what is needed. Then we can jump back into the fray, renewed and ready to face the day.