Fly

I have a thing for butterflies. I mean, how cool is it that they begin as creepy-crawly, leaf chewing creatures who morph into beautiful, delicate, fluttering nectar-drinkers. And I'm not alone in this. They have inspired books. Consider the book Hope for the Flowers by Trina Paulus. The life cycle of a butterfly is an apt metaphor for life and death... and life again.

Butterflies often appear in my journals, paintings, photographs and mixed-media pieces. As I played in my journal today, I was reminded that I, too, was made to soar. I was not made to creep along the ground forever. My wings are growing daily. I am like the butterfly who must tear herself out of her cocoon to gain the strength to fly. Facing and overcoming obstacles is an integral part of my future strength.

So, my lovelies, remember that we all were made to soar. God has placed that in us. Our part is to become strong in truth. To know who we truly are and how God sees us. To use our time, strength and gifting to find our wings. To become fully alive.

You are an incredible and unique being. No one on the planet has your exact ability. No one can take your place. So go for it! Don't waste another minute on the lies of self-doubt. You were truly made to soar. I believe it with everything inside me and I'm excited for  your journey ahead.

Oh, and I love you. Bunches.

Wounded Healer

Did you ever notice that some people seem to have more patience to listen to your woes than others? And I mean simply listen, not offer any unsolicited explanations or  solutions. I have a handful of friends who are willing to provide this act of kindness for me. (You know who you are and I treasure you!) Other than paid professionals, this seems to be a dying skill. Or maybe I don't know what I'm talking about.

That said, Henri Nouwen (pronounced Henry Now-wen), a well-loved priest, professor, and writer  is attributed with coining the label "wounded healer." Truly, the last thing I want to hear when I am in the middle of one of those dark stretches of experience life brings is, "this will make you stronger, more compassionate, more [insert positive quality]." Those wise, and possibly true, insights only serve to make me want to pinch/punch the speaker.  Or bury myself in some sugary, carb-y food solace. Neither will help us through these kinds of times. Trust me. Been there. Done that.

Having experienced a number of dark times, it does encourage me to know that they were not without benefit. Looking back, I would not be the woman I am today. Those times were like the chisel that freed this new creation that is me. They shaped me: hammering me into shape, digging out unwanted parts, sanding away at  sharp edges... You know the drill. And people who have suffered these heart-rending processes are more apt to recognize others in the same process. And offer the kindness of simply walking along the painful road with them.

So, dear ones, hang in there. I pray you find a tribe, okay a friend, who will be there with you. Who will listen with love when you share. And know that you will come through this. You are stronger than you think. You are a truly, truly beautiful creature.

And I love you. Bunches.

Trust Your Talent

I was well into my forties before I  began making marks on paper with crayons and colored markers and pens.  I was definitely a late bloomer. But I had two wonderful things going for me then. First, I was willing to be a beginner.  And second, I had a cheering section of one. Both things helped propel me down this colorful path I have come to love.

I began drawing my feelings first, ignorant that I was joining the modernist movement of Expressionism.  I wasn't trying to make "art" but was simply trying to make sense of my inner world. Someone once said you have to make a lot of bad art before you can make the good stuff.  I did that and found I feel more alive during the process of art-making. Still do.

My cheering section, The Professor,  loved the final outcomes of my mark-making long before I could see any worth in them. He built me a round "Happy Fun Table" which took over our tiny dining area and let me "make messes" to my heart's content. Every night I would get out a few supplies and play.  Much of what I did then stayed safely hidden in my journals, however a best-loved piece, Wood Between the Worlds, came from those early days.

I know some of you have started playing in your journals, some with words and others with colors. Enjoy the process. Take a little time to play some each day. You don't have to show the outcome to anyone. Do it for you. I think you'll grow to like it. All you need to do is to be willing to be a beginner every day. And you have me in your cheering section. Because I love you. Bunches.

The Scent of Change

I have a board on Pinterest I've labeled TRUTH where I save inspiring quotes and positive messages I want to remember. I know that kind of thing doesn't float everyone's boat, but it works for me. I can so easily forget that I have the ability choose how I feel. Checking my TRUTH board can refocus an unraveling day.

Anyway yesterday as I was trolling Pinterest, I found this John Steinbeck quote about change coming like the scent of hidden flowers. Anytime I catch the sweet scent of unseen flowers, no matter where I am, I stop dead in my tracks and hunt for the fragrance's source. I want to identify and commit it to memory. To savor it fully.  I want more of it. As much as I can get.

So what if we applied the same diligence to embracing, say, new health habits? What would that look like? Looking with anticipation at the desired changes rather than aversion? Learning to savor rather than cringe over the challenges that accompany change? Or does it hint that like it or not, change happens before you see it? Or does it simply mean that we sense the need for change before we can fully experience it? I don't know, but I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one.

The flowers in the picture were printed using my StayzOn Black Ink Pad from a stamp I made  drawing on a styrofoam cheese tray I'd saved for that purpose. Then I used my trusty Inktense Pencils by Derwent and Twinkling H2O's by LuminArte paints for color.

Remember to take some time to enjoy the flowers today... because I love you. Bunches.

You Had a Bad Day

I agree with some of you: yesterday (or the day before) was horrible. Memorably so. And with those kind of days comes the temptation to lay down in the dirt and give up. To dredge up all the rotten days long past and stew in all the unfairness and unkindness and misery. The temptation is to make those kinds of days the whole story of our lives. I have faced that temptation countless times. And I will sadly confess to spending more time in the mud of despair than I'd like to admit.

I hate to be the one to say it, but bad days are guaranteed to come. Truly. And crying over them is appropriate. Really. So go ahead and grieve. Don't put a band-aid over things and pretend it's all better before it is. Let yourself experience the pain and loss and sadness.  ...And then let it go.

Don't let that one unbelievably bad day (week...year) be the the whole story of your life. We get to choose which lines and chapters of our lives define us. And, precious one, you story is far from finished. You have so many more experiences ahead. I'm looking forward to hearing your new chapters, to seeing what new strengths and insights grow out of  these challenges you're walking through right this minute. Really.

I certainly don't understand the whys of bad days. And I refuse to minimize how difficult some days can be. But as you're trudging through this particularly lousy day, please remember this is not your story's final chapter.

So keep me posted. Because I love you. Bunches.

Giving and Receiving

I was 25 years old before I learned to receive compliments. Prior to that I would verbally deflect any compliment. One day, my then hairdresser-friend, explained that doing that was like hurling a gift back at the giver.  I had to practice smiling and saying, "Thank you." I now respond gratefully to a compliment, whether I agree with it or not. Sometimes I can even feel the love a compliment comes wrapped in.  However, gifts can still throw me.

This week I was given two incredible and unexpected gifts. Out of the blue, my "brother from-another-mother,"  Tree-Mover, and his wife, Blossoms, replaced my broken Canon 20D with a brand new Canon 6D. Blossoms also made certain I realized this was a "no strings" gift, simply because they loved me.  Oh, dear...

Later in the week I discovered my insurance would not cover all the costs of a procedure from the specialist I'd been referred to. The extra cost was more than I could pay, so I had decided not to go ahead with it. When I told my friend, the Scientist, about this, she reached in her purse and handed me a wad of cash to help pay for it. Because she loves me. Oh, dear...

Both gifts overwhelmed me, because they were the things I needed but was unable get. And in both instances I was overcome with a discomfort that nearly over-shadowed my gratitude. What is it about loving actions, especially those we cannot reciprocate in kind, that can make us so uncomfortable? That it is "better to give than receive" is certainly true. Receiving is humbling. So is being loved.

But healthy relationships are not simply about giving. Healthy relationships are about giving AND receiving. I guess I'm learning about healthy relationships these days. I hope you are, too.

Regardless, don't forget that I love you. Bunches.

What Do You Think?

Some of you know about the Truth Books we've been working on. We would like some input from you. Here are 2 samples of covers. Which do you prefer? The are both exactly the same art, but the second sample has been slightly tweaked in Photoshop...

Sample 1

Sample 2

Please either comment below by commenting below on the Comment  button or by email. We value your input!

Thank you in advance. Love you. Bunches

Move On

A baby learns to walk by falling down, getting up and falling down. She discovers what causes her to fall down and then avoids that so that she falls down less and less. Eventually she is walking like a pro. But nobody starts out strutting . Falling is part of the learning process.

We all make mistakes. That's how we learn. We amble down our path; we trip and fall. We get up, evaluate what tripped us up and then make darned sure to avoid that particular thing in the future. There are, however, other less productive, responses to mistakes. For instance, we can pretend we didn't make a mistake, or that the mistake was someone else's or we can simply lay there and cry about the mistake.

Pretending a mistake wasn't made only works for the pretender. Everyone else can see that we fell down, no matter how hard we pretend. So we end up simply looking foolish. Can you see the folly in blaming another person for our mis-step? Oh yeah, it is definitely his fault that I had to break my diet, my sobriety, my honesty... Really?? Ya, think?

And focusing on the fall, letting it keep you on the ground indefinitely doesn't get you down the road. Rest there until you are feeling better, but get back up as soon as you can!

Precious friends, you have places to go and wonder to experience. Don't let a simple mistake stop you in your tracks. Dust off your backside, get your balance and move on. You can do it. I'll help if I can. Because I love you. Bunches.