In spite of it all - Thankful

With Thanksgiving day almost here, it seems right to write about thankfulness. But for me, this year, it’s more than honoring a holiday. 

It’s about surviving a scary, covid year. It’s about seeing my children, once again, moving out and onward toward a better life. It’s about getting through every day with half a kitchen since July. It’s about finding new ways to create, cope and even cook a Thanksgiving dinner. 

Thankful for the park, walks and playtime. 

Almost everyday, my husband, darling Darby, my daughter and grandson walk to and through our neighborhood park. It’s a beautiful, bountiful place. Filled with trees, a lake, deer, beavers, otters, ducks, geese and herons. 

It’s filled with slides and swings and climbing things. But there’s one place my grandson loves best: bridges. He waves to them as we pass over and under them. He gets out and walks them from one end to the other and back again. And again. And again. 

When I think about it, life is filled with bridges. At every age and stage, there are many things we have to cross to get from one place in our lives to another. Bridges that need building and sometimes, rebuilding. 

Thankful for a plastic sink and dishwasher. 

Since July, I’ve had no sink, disposal, dishwasher or floor in my kitchen. I’ve washed dishes by hand in the laundry room sink. I’ve made coffee next to clean underwear. And put down a patchwork of rugs to make it safer to walk across multi levels of floor.

A few weeks ago, my contractor came in and installed a temporary sink, hooked up my dishwasher and my refrigerator’s ice maker. Three simple things I am simply very thankful to be able to use again. 

Thankfully and finally this week, the insurance adjusters approved our contractors estimates for reconstruction. The damage done in July 2021 will all be fixed now sometime in April 2022. 

Thankful for clay, throwing, pop ups and studio visitors. 

Because of the flood and the mitigation, I wasn’t able to use my wheel. Without clay in my hands to steady me, I’ve had some very dark and difficult days, weeks and months. 

But now, thanks to moving help, my wheel is plugged back in. It took a few sessions to get everything balanced with foot props and the wheel levels. And a few sessions to feel the mud lightening my heart, my spirit and my imagination. After just a week or two, I’m surprised to see shelves of work waiting to be painted, glazed and finished. 

The biggest encouragement of all is seeing the work I love to do, be loved by others. Given as gifts. Taken home where cups are sipped, bowls used, vases filled with flowers. I’m always thankful for my studio visitors, social media likes and pop up customers. 

Thankful. 

In spite of all the damage, I’m Thankful it will all be fixed. 

In spite of all the fear and losses, I’m Thankful for all the love and support. 

In spite of all the rainy days, I’m Thankful for herons, otters, and of course, bridges.   

 

Grateful

Three years ago, I got the call I’d been waiting, hoping and wishing would come. Guide Dogs for the Blind had a career changer dog for me! And I couldn’t wait to meet him. 

It was love at first sight.

At 18 months old, Darby was charming and beautiful. His slightly lower ear, which GDB pointed out to me, made him even more adorable. He had his issues as all the career changers do. But nothing, I knew, that we couldn’t handle together. 

A mix of Scooby-Doo and Tigger too. 

Even at four years old, Darby is bouncy and trouncey and full of fun. He loves to chase balls but his favorite is to jump up to catch them. He walks through the park with bounce in his step, greeting dogs he knows with a playful bark. 

Greeting new friends or family at the door is one of his biggest thrills and challenges. He has a lovely, deep bark which always makes me smile (and feel very protected). Ok, he tends to rush new arrivals with an eagerness that can be overwhelming. But we have worked out a system to help him greet friends with a little less physical enthusiasm. (Hint: beef jerky treats work wonders)

Studio master. 

Whether I’m throwing on the wheel in the garage or slab building in the studio, Darby is there. He watches from his bed as I set up my work. Then once he’s confident I’m in the zone, he takes a nap. But he never zones out. 

Any movement toward the studio or side door and he’s instantly alert. He follows me outside while I clean up and I throw the ball for him. When I’m ready to head inside, he’s right there. And clay clean up happens with him at my feet. 

Watching dog. 

When I wake up, ok even before I wake up, Darby is awake. Laying on his big, round bed he watches and waits patiently for me to sit up. Once I do, he jumps up on the edge of the bed for morning kisses and hugs. After he gets love from me, he heads around the bed to say good morning to my husband. 

When one of the family is out, Darby always knows when they’re on the way home. And he sits and watches for the door to open. He’s learned to wait for us to go to him to say hello. And when I go upstairs or downstairs, so does he.  

Darby follows me everywhere. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

I’m so grateful to his Guide Dog Puppy Raiser, Guide Dogs for the Blind (and all they do) and their wonderful Career Changer program. 

But most of all, I’m grateful for my Darling Darby.  

Shadows and Light

As I look out my windows at the amazing display of fall color, I’m mesmerized today by shadows and light. Right now, the bright sunlight paints a bush brilliant golden yellow on one side and the shadows add deep greens on the other. A bright red maple shines in the sun while the shadow leaves turn from burgundy to deep purple. 

I marvel at the views. And I wonder, what would the world look like with just light and no shadow? Or just shadow and no light?

Life without contrast.

There are many days of gray in the Pacific Northwest. Rain and clouds. Overcast skies. And I love those days as much as today’s sunshine. There’s a softness to the clouds. The leaves on the trees seem to blend on the edges, and yet, still stand beautifully against the sky. 

Looking at the trees in the rain, I see beauty in the softness. Mystery in the shadows. 

Living with too much contrast.  

Thinking back on this last year all I see is contrast. Masks vs no masks. Pro-vaccine and anti-vaxxers. Stay at home, then go back to work. Far right and far left. Lies and truth. 

In the midst of confusion and fear, it seems many want to fight while others flee or hide. While I understand, many times I wish for less contrast, more softness and silence and patience. Perhaps what I need is just what I see out the window today. 

Light alongside shadow. 

Looking out again, the sun has moved and I can’t get a good picture of the contrast outside my window. The bright yellow is now a muted goldenrod and the cadmium red leaves are now a deep burgundy. 

Perhaps, it’s time to stop trying so hard. Time to stop pushing for one way vs another. Let go of right vs wrong. And let the light move like the sun from bright to softness.

Accept that life is about both light and shadow. 

Both are needed.

There’s no need to fight. Or flee.

Just see.