Come Out and Play

            There is a coolness in the air, golden hues in the trees and a joy on children’s faces as they run through falling leaves.  Summer has slipped into autumn.  The days are shorter, the nights are cool, crops are harvested, parties are planned, there is soup on the stove, bread in the oven, pie on the sill and smiles on the faces of passers-by.

            There is a promise of plenty: rain to fill the streams, nuts, grains and fruit to fill the pantry.  There is a promise of time: time with family, time with friends, time to pause and give thanks, time to enjoy the beauty that surrounds us before the cold and bare of winter.

            Squirrels are busily burying nuts and lining their nests.  Bears are foraging and shopping for caves.  Turtles are slowing from their warm summer pace, birds are flying south, and flowers and trees are sending their seeds to find new homes before the sleep of winter.  Change is in the air.

            Autumn is, to me, an invitation.  I sit at my desk as a branch taps the sill, “Can you come out and play?”  It seems a perfect chance to take a run, walk through the park or through the town, meet a friend for lunch, ride my bike, shuffle through leaves, or simply be, with the wind in my hair and the sun on my face.  Outside, the wind swirls the leaves through the sunlight; red and gold, green and brown, light and shade.  There is great joy in the breeze.  “It is autumn.  Come out and play.”

Isabella Stewart



August... Really?

                It’s been just over a month since I’ve written.  I’m still here.  As I reflect on the month gone by, I give thanks for the wonder and joy of this life.

                July, for me, is a minefield of emotions.  Three of my favorite folks have birthdays in July.  Two dear friends celebrate their love and commitment each July.  This celebration falls just 4 days before Rick and I celebrate the first time we saw each other and the day we celebrated our love in marriage.  Don’t forget Independence Day, the 4th of July.  I love the sparklers, fireworks and celebration of it all.  I think we all understand a possible mix of emotions when we consider this country’s history, its current course and its possibilities for the future. 

                Then there is Independence Day… the 5th of July.  Independence Day for Isabella; the day that I walked away from the world of health administration, pay checks, politics, stress and a wonderful group of people that I still love today.  (Wave your sparklers then, please, pass the tissue.)   As to shake me out of my selfishness, somewhere in the month, our world caught on fire!  My prayers flowed for those who have been harmed and for the strength and forgiveness of Mother Nature.

                That was my month of July, a roller coaster and minefield: happy, happy, joy, doubt, fear, laugh out loud, flop, joy, pause, reflect, fire, water, travel, breathe, question, love, love, gratitude, success.  Like a movie or good book, it had it all.

                 To quote my dear Rick (provider of love and support), “That was then, this is now.”  Welcome August.  I am back in the studio, heart full of song and wonder.  Lots of fun things headed our way so please stay tuned.

For today, I leave you with a joyful bit of July:

The Tree House

To be amongst the rustling leaves and

birdsong, a joyful gift from heaven.

I stretch and the sun kisses my cheek.

Good morning, I welcome the new day.

Birds dance in the air above me and

watch from the branches that surround.  Light

and shadow dance on the leaves to the

music of the morning.  I balance.

I breathe.  I am filled with gratitude.

Oh, to dance among the tree tops and

rejoice in this new day; the moss glistens.

And you know who you are,

Bella

08-04-2018

Good Morning

            Waking up at my favorite retreat is such a joy.  Sunshine, a cool breeze and birdsong welcome the day.  I can sit by the water, sip coffee and listen to the morning.  I can greet the day with yoga in the warming sun.  I can take a brisk walk ‘round the purlieu, chance an encounter and friendly chat with another greeter of the day; or simply wander the grounds speaking only to the flowers and thanking the sun for lighting the day. 

            Here I can sit and sketch, get lost in a book or do a bit of writing.  There is a space to paint!  I can swim in the afternoon, knowing that the sun will warm me should the breeze still be cool. In the evening I can share the days adventures with Rick as we watch the reflection of lights dance across the water. 

            There is music every day.  Such a joy, music, and those that are so filled with it that they must share it with the world.  They sing from their hearts and entice instruments to sing out in joy.   They may perform alone or bring a band.  Myself, I sing in the shower, dance down the hallway and embrace the music that fills this place.  There is music every day.

            It is here that I may heal all hurts, dream all dreams and celebrate all joys.  It is here that I may find solitude from the chaos in the world.  It is here that I may, with an entourage of friends or family, create a joyful chaos of celebration.   It is here that I am.

            Awaking in my favorite retreat is such a joy.

Isabella

Guilty as Charged

            I recently had the pleasure of visiting with a woman working in a local shop.  I have always enjoyed her conversation.  She seems kind, funny, open and down to earth.   This last week the planets were aligned that we would meet.  The store was quiet, and we had a chance to visit about cards, business, family, phones and humanity.

            This young woman, though “not a Millennial,” was able to take my phone and in the blink of an eye work some social media magic that I was currently paying for a class to learn.  I don’t know how she did it, but it truly was magical to this technologically impaired Boomer.  After this amazing display of her skills, she shared that she had recently put her smart phone away and was using a flip phone for the next year.  In the short time that she had given up the smart phone, she had noticed a change in her life, she had so much more time.  Time for her children, time for her friends, time for her husband, time for her work, time for her chores, time to connect with others and time to change the world.

            I was so impressed and knew that I should follow her example, but listed my ever so pertinent reasons, starting with my new, one-woman-show of a business.  I need to be able to deal with my website wherever I might be.   That said, I could buy a lap top or pad but…  Oh, my list goes on.  Right or wrong, I will continue to use my smart phone to some degree.  But I digress, and you don’t yet know it.

            As we were parting ways, this young woman told me that she had a blog, that she was a woman of faith and that she cussed.  I paused and briefly contemplated the woman of faith before me.  That usually meant one went to a church of some kind.  It could mean she was spiritual, the box I choose for myself, or maybe she simply had faith that all would be right with the world.   And she cussed… such lovely juxtaposition.

            Upon reading her blog (yes, on my smart phone in an easy chair), I was touched by her mission to write, her honesty, sincerity and her ability to call a spade a spade (and I’m talking shovels).  This young woman is a Christian, in the way Christianity is in theory, but so often not in practice.  She explains her use of “a woman of faith” in place of “a Christian.”   She points out that people often cringe or recoil when she uses the word Christian.  She notes the perception of Christians as judgmental, hypocritical, racist, bigoted, anti-abortion, and ant-gay, a virtually unyielding barrier. It saddened me to realize that I was guilty, I was a cringer. 

The word Christian has been hi-jacked somewhere along the way for manipulation of the masses and political gain. Yet, that is a blog for another day or another site.

I am simply thankful for the gentle eye opening and opportunity for introspection.  We all have our paths to walk.  A path of kindness, honesty, love, laughter and joy is one to be admired.    Whatever the trail that takes one there, seems to me, a path worth traveling.

Isabella