2025 Word of the Year: Thrive.

 

It’s taken me a while to find my way to this year’s word. It wasn’t easy but then last year and this year have not been easy. Even as I wanted to move, like last year’s word, I was stopped at almost every turn. Stopped by pain and confusion and fear and, finally, major surgery. I’m very grateful, I finally got the help I needed.

Am I angry it took so long to get help? Yes. Our healthcare system here is sick and broken and needs major surgery too. And, so this new year, I hope for a healthier healthcare system for all of us. 

It’s time for me to thrive. 

Recovering from major surgery is not easy. It takes a lot of patience, which is not my strong suit. My instructions were: no lifting, no pushing, no pulling, no yoga. I could walk. Slowly. One day at a time, I walked a little further. Finally, I got to the park and around the lake and back home with my husband and sweet Darby by my side. 

The more I listened to my body and gave it what it craved: good food, tea, rest and walks. The more it rewarded me with more energy and less pain. There’s a lesson for me here. Maybe for you, too?

Thriving instead of Striving. 

It’s in our culture, these deep seated beliefs. Work harder. Go faster. More is better. But what if it isn’t? What if, less is really more? What if, slowing down get us where we need to go? What if working softly with intention brings more life to our lives?

Maybe to really thrive, instead of listening to my head or my culture, I need to listen to my gut. Slow down. See the heron on the branch.  Listen to the rain hitting the roof. Snuggle by the fire reading a book. Paint watercolors with my granddaughter. Cuddle with my grand baby and watch a silly movie. Play with paint and clay and crochet. 

 What if, relaxing into our days moment by moment, rather than striving, is the way to truly Thrive. 

If you want to know more about the healthcare situation, here’s a link https://open.substack.com/pub/miketurner921/p/health-care-is-broken?r=2j4566&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=true

Light Moves

 

The sun is streaming in my windows this afternoon and it makes me smile. I feel warm and cozy and safe. These are feelings I haven’t felt in a while, quite a while. But rather than focus on the past, I want to focus on here and now. 

Like this morning’s walk in the park with my grandson, Madden. It was clear and cool but not cold. The ducks and geese were all busy swimming in the lake. As my husband and I walked along enjoying the views, Madden took a short nap after having his pumpkin pancakes for breakfast. 

Glazing and Firing, finally. 

Slowly, the shelves in my studio were getting full and that makes me happy. Because of the recent health issues, it’s taken me longer than usual to get to the point of having enough work to glaze and fill the kiln. But today, I did it!

It’s truly a mix of work. Some thrown bowls I did back in August. There are little plates and big plates I worked on with my granddaughter, Meyer for her little brother, Madden. Some new red Lily Vases. A few new figures, which I’ll admit, I’m not too excited about but we’ll see. 

Lightening Up. 

It’s been a heavy year for me and my family. A very heavy year: lay offs, health insurance problems, unexpected health issues, hospitalization and recovery. For months, I’ve felt overwhelmed and traumatized by all of it. 

But today, walking through the park, I felt lighter. Breathing in the air and sunshine, I felt healthy and strong. And I looked forward to loading the kiln and firing new pieces.

It’s time to let the sunshine in

To breathe sweet air, give light baby kisses

And feel my heart, soul and feet

Making light moves 

Again

Season of Change

 

I can’t believe it’s November already. Leaves have fallen. The garden is harvested. And trees, bushes and flowers have been trimmed. Mother Nature is shortening the sunshine getting us all ready for winter. I don’t know if I’m ready, yet. 

I do love the color changes. Hydrangeas turn from bright blue to burgundy as they dry in vases around the house. Leaves float down in shades of bright yellow, gold and red. I always find this season inspiring which leads to different work in the studio. 

Changing leaves. 

It’s this time of year when I can collect my favorite leaves in the park. I admit, I don’t know the species of tree. Maybe it’s a Maple? But I love the shape and size and structure of these leaves. So I carefully collect them and carry them home putting them under light plastic covers to keep them fresh. 

In the studio, I roll out my favorite clay and carefully imprint each leaf on it. Then, I draw through the clay following the leaf shape and place each one on the shelf to slowly dry. 

What starts out as leaf and clay ends as a finished porcelain plate or platter in shades of gray or burgundy. 

Changing life. 

My husband and I are into a new life phase many call ‘retirement’. I don’t like the word because it implies we are not doing anything but sitting around. And it’s definitely not true for us. 

We may not be working 9-5 but we are both still active and productive. We are both taking care of our grandchildren several times a week. We walk every day and we are both producing creative work. 

He’s busy writing and producing new podcasts on Substack. 

I’m busy in the studio making sculptures, leaves and lily vases. And selling my work in a new local gallery. 

Like the seasons, life changes. 

And while somethings fall away, 

Other things can bloom and grow. 

We can’t stop time from flying, 

But we can enjoy the flight. 

February Love Story #3

It’s another week in February and another way to focus on love. 

Welcome to week three of February love stories where I’m focusing on things in my life that make me happy in body, mind, heart and soul. It’s so easy for me to go through my days in a kind of work haze: to do, do, done and more to do. 

While I love to be busy creating with my hands in clay, I don’t want to forget all the connections I make in and around me that bring peace and joy. And places that open my eyes and inspire ideas. 

Life is a walk in the park. 

I know, since 2020, nothing has felt that way. Right? It’s not been an easy three years, but  even on my worst days when fear surrounded me, my park was there. 

Calm waters waiting. Green grass growing. Peaceful reflections. 

Leaves changing. Geese migrating. 

Deer and fawns running through the woods.

Sun, snow or rain. 

No matter what the weather, I walk. Even when water is dripping down off my hood, there is so much beauty around to see. I’ve seen more otters swimming in the lake on rainy days. And geese landing with a slide across the ice. 

Snow covered tree limbs and bridges.  

Heron hanging out and flying closer to the path.

The best of all medicine: Laughter. 

Yes, even during covid, there were little feet running around the park playgrounds. It’s one of the things that lifted my heart and soul. When schools were closed, the park was open and  children were learning. 

Swinging. Sliding. Climbing. 

Exploring the bridges. And playing in the woods.

Natural inspiration. 

Walking is, of course, great exercise. It’s a great workout for my muscles and my heart. But it also strengthens my imagination. And stretches my creativity, loosens my feelings and brings new ideas to the surface that grow into new pieces of art. 

I love my neighborhood park.

   

Healthy Acts

My word of the year, act is shedding light on many areas in my life and the world around me. I usually expect my yearly word to be an inspiration or thought or idea to give me a nudge of encouragement every day. This year, it’s been acting a bit different. 

Act is less head and more body. Less thought and more do. It’s showing me many of the things I do everyday for my own health. I’m not talking about dieting. I think there’s too much talk about that, usually negative. Instead I want to act for my body, mind, and soul in as many healthy ways as I can. 

Yoga.  

When my kids were babies, I needed something I could do for me, in my own home, in whatever small amount of free minutes I might have from day to day. One early morning I turned on PBS and there was a woman doing some kind of exercise by herself on the floor. She spoke quietly as she bent and turned and twisted. 

I was instantly intrigued. I’d never seen anything like it. But it looked so easy, so I decided to try a few of the moves. Thankfully I was wearing leggings and a t shirt, my uniform of the time, which made it a little easier. What I found out quickly is what looked easy and felt good was quite a work out. 

I was hooked. I did that short routine as often as I could, it was my little lifesaver. I still do a series of moves every morning before I walk and I’ve taken classes once a week for almost 15 years. 

Walking the dog. 

I’ve always loved the woods. There’s just something about walking that soothes and calms me. So almost everyday, sometimes twice, I’m out there walking to the park, around the lake and through the woods. 

I used to push strollers and trikes along the paths, but now I get to take my newest darling dog, Darby. We walk along greeting our favorite 2 and 4 legged friends. He sniffs while I watch the geese nesting and look for otters, eagles and blue herons. He’s even patient while I lean against my favorite cedar tree, maybe because he knows he’ll get a treat if he’s good(which he always is). 

Good. Feeling good. I was always taught that good people had to suffer to be good. But I know now, that is totally wrong. Doing things not just because they’re good for me but because they feel good for me is good. 

It’s the healthy way to act. 

Words of the Week

“Be Open to New and Unexpected Ideas.”

The first appearance of these words came in an email from Maria Shriver’s Sunday Paper. And although I was raised Catholic, I don’t share her faith in the church organization, officials or outmoded misogynistic concepts. But reading her words left me feeling pleasantly surprised, uplifted and informed. This was unexpected. 

I’ll admit, the word unexpected makes me want to get a blanket and a hot cup of tea. But what if the unexpected is a good thing? What if life is meant to be a series of unexpected events that lead you in a new and better direction?  

This week has brought some new and unexpected events and ideas. In the studio, I loaded 4 porcelain maple leaves into the kiln and opened it up to find 3. One had cracked right down the middle. It happens. But this time instead of blaming myself, I was glad for 3 good ones. 

An unexpected call came mid-week and a local arts organization bought several pieces of my work for their annual auction. The best part, by being open, I met a new local artist who truly values other artists and their work. 

“Loosen Up.”

Leaning on my tree this week, these words came loud and clear. At first, I wasn’t sure exactly what I was supposed to ‘loosen up’. But the energy directed itself right into the tightness in my calves, knees, thighs, back, arms, neck and jaw.

But, I thought, I’m strong and to stay strong I need to tighten my muscles. Quickly the reply came, “No. Muscles held too tight, get tired and weak. Because you are strong, you can loosen your hold and trust your muscles to carry you.”

As I move around now, I’m grateful for the reminder. 

“Life gets very quiet before all the doors open. I’m learning that what can feel like loneliness is actually grace. Rest. Find your strength. It will all change soon.”

Life does get quiet as fall turns into winter. Daylight gives less time for studio work and the world seems to hunker down. Working solo in my studio, I do worry about loneliness but these words brought me back to the truth. The solitude can feel satisfying and restful, like grace. 

Sometimes, things happen around me to upset that balance. Like the gallery closing or pieces breaking or sales falling through. In those times, I need to find my strength knowing it will all change soon. 

Perhaps, these are important words not just for this week, but all the time. 

Remembering to staying open to the new and unexpected.

Trusting your strength to give you the ability to loosen up in tough times. 

Believe in restful grace. And believe doors will open.