Ch...ch...ch...changes

I am moving, as I type.  All of my belongings are in boxes in the living room.  My world is a swirl of chaos that I cannot even comprehend.  I hate this part right here.  I hate boxes of clothes, papers, and stuff...just stuff.  Things that don't really matter, but I cannot bear to even throw away.  My memories are torn apart and it will be months before I will find a sense of belonging again.  This is just a stepping stone kind of move.  Moving to my grandmother's house until this summer when I say I do to another address.  I am now a transient. 

It was a good opportunity to rid myself of some things, and yes, over fifteen bags and boxes went to Goodwill.  Every time I pulled up to the door, I found a sense of renewal.  It is a wonderful experience to free yourself from the clutter of the everyday.  Now if only I could find the house cleaning fairy to come and do the rest.

Finding Peace in the Small Places

Hello.  My name is Robyn, and I hide in my car.  That may be an exaggeration.  I am not really hiding, but there is something peaceful about the car.  My kids run into the house.  The radio is still on, and I am...alone.  For one moment, I am silent as a listen to music.  I lay my head back and close my eyes.  I become heavy into the seat.  My body almost becomes liquid, and I melt.  Golden. Then I hear a noise.  The passenger door is opening, and it is either Thing One or Thing Two, "Are you okay, Mommy?  I don't want you to be alone."

I have to smile at the irony.  I laugh, kiss the top of the head being presented, and then a nugget of truth is revealed.  I don't want to be alone either.

The Hills Are Alive...

With two girls screaming.  My daughter and I went hiking today.  I live nestled in the Appalachian Mountains, and there is a cemetery directly behind my house.  After that you have nothing but hillside.  She and I went straight up the mountain and hiked over to the neighboring community.  It was wonderful to see our world from that height. It felt empowering, and then reality came.  Going home downhill was fun, but let's say not as much fun.  Well, let's say missing the cemetery and veering too far left was not as fun. Finding the hollow, but also finding the steep drop to a creek wasn't as fun.  Climbing down and jumping the creek was not as fun, but we did it.  Yes, we did it.  We walked the short distance back to our house feeling a sense of wonder and pride.  We could have whined and complained but we climbed the mountain and came home again without a whimper.  A lot like life I dare say.  You reach the summit but sometimes you then have to come down.  Sometimes you have to jump a hurdle or two to reach solid ground.  Sometimes there are briers holding you back, but then you feel the road beneath your feet.  It is going to be okay.

And That Has Made All the Difference

I have a friend who is struggling right now with several different problems all at once, and it is becoming overwhelming, almost to the point of inactivity.  Today at work he said worry flooded his soul and for a moment he imagined us as just specks in the universe.  None of it mattered in the grand scheme of things.  Instead of bringing the peace of epiphany, it made him feel alone and insignificant.  Why bother if it all doesn't matter?  Thankfully he pulled himself away from the negativity and relaxed in faith.  It is important because this is our lives.  No, it may not be newsworthy, but our problems matter.  We should not have guilt over having bad days.  We are not living in ingratitude when we acknowledge our own pain and limitations.  Worry is a natural, human emotion.  Fear is real.  Pain happens.  It is how we live and respond to our worries, fears, and pain.  Only when we find the truth of our pain can we release ourselves into our faith and live in thanksgiving.   It is easier to walk in faith when the world is bright and shiny but acceptance of the dark enlarges our perceptions of what truly matters.

The Road not Taken

Robert Frost

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
and sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveller, long I stood
and looked down one as far as I could
to where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
and having perhaps the better claim
because it was grassy and wanted wear;
though as for that, the passing there
had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
in leaves no feet had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I --
I took the one less travelled by,
and that has made all the difference

Don't You?

I very rarely give personal notes in my blog, but after I did a few people wondered if that blog was about them.  The answer is no.  The blog was dedicated to a shadow from over a decade ago.  You can say I had to address something in order to move on, and I am moving on in a glorious fashion.  The blog was ambiguous to protect the names of the innocent and not so innocent.  In order to laugh over it all, I am now dedicating a song to somebody.  No, I don't think you are vain. It is just a song. Enjoy a giggle.

Merry Fat Tuesday to You!

I love Christmas and the ribbons and lights that go with it, but my truly favorite time of the year is about to begin. I embrace the Lenten Season as a child reaching for a new toy. I anticipate the spiritual growth and renewal of spring. Tomorrow I will go for ashes in hopes of being reborn as the Pheonix.

So where does that leave Fat Tuesday? Partying up? No, no here, except I will take my family to a pancake dinner tonight. I was going to make Po Boys, but sitting around with my granny in a beautiful church sounds more fitting.

I am still trying to figure out what I am giving up tomorrow. Penance anyone? I am focusing on moderation of everything. Less Facebook, less food, less idelness, less television, less talking, more meditation, more quiet, and more listening.  I am truly finding a simple life is the best led life, and I want to use Lent as a way of finding a more abundant life bathed in simplicity.