As a child, these words posted in my local library brought peace. I remember reading them gave me a sense of safety and shelter and calm. And I know in my heart and soul that is exactly what I need right now.
In July, the roof of my house was ripped off and completely replaced. We’ve lived in this home we designed for almost 30 years, so it was time for a new roof. While I looked forward to the new roof, I had no idea what it would be like to live through the transition from old to new. It was a VERY loud and messy process.
In September, the front siding of our house was ripped off and completely replaced along with a small section on one side. After that was done, the entire house was re-painted including trim and the front door. Again, it was a loud and messy process.
New strength.
I love my new roof, new skylights and new vents. I love the strong, updated siding. I love the new paint color, new window trim and bright red door. But most of all, I love feeling even more securely sheltered in the home I designed and built three decades ago.
Getting here has not been without its bumps and bruises. Siding and skylights were not in our renovating plans. But what I’m learning, especially this year, is plans change. And sometimes they change for the better.
Creating challenge.
With all the noise and mess and disruption, it was hard to find time, space and quiet to work in my studio or on my wheel. Glaze firing was put on hold due to air quality warnings and high outside temperatures. Yes, it was frustrating and I’ll admit scary. Because, my lifeline and connection to calm is creating.
So I painted a new bowl and two new birds. I re-arranged my studio. And I waited as calmly as I could, which I’ll admit included pacing, grouching and some unneeded snacking. But last week, before house painting began, I did manage to throw a few teacups. I made a new leaf platter. And this week, during the trim painting of the house, I trimmed and pull some handles.
Balancing the see saw.
I remember long ago, an expert described life balance, not as a balance beam, but as a see saw. It is so simple and so true.
Life is not a straight, narrow path but a thrilling ride of quick ups and downs with short stops in the middle. Studio work helps me balance and yet, it is a constant seesaw ride: good weather for clay to dry vs (not) too hot, studio time vs marketing and selling.
Then, of course, there is social media, politics, pandemics, forest fires, bad air quality and roofing and painting and 2020.
What a see saw to live on everyday. A challenge that requires creativity and strength. And most of all, for me, a little quiet. Please.
2 comments:
I, too, need my quiet, to still my mind and shut out distractions that living in our crowded environ bring. Thank you for your post and I love your analogy of life as a seesaw!
Cheri - I’m so glad my post resonated with you! Especially now, we all need quiet time!!
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