Moving Forward

 

  

One step at a time, I’m moving forward into this New Year and this new life. I’m feeling better. I’m eating and enjoying food for the first time in months.  My energy is returning. And the clouds are lifting from my body, mind and soul. Here’s the weird thing: I didn’t even realize how many clouds were hanging in, over and around me. I just thought it was the stress of change and everyday life. 

I was wrong. I was physically sick. I didn’t know it. When I finally got medical coverage, and started to think something might be wrong, I didn’t know what to do or where to go. The medical coverage was a difficult and confusing labyrinth requiring calls to a 1-800 number for pre-approval and the info given was conflicting and confusing. 

Bottom line: I had to wait too long to see a doctor. During the wait, my condition got worse. I’m very grateful to the urgent care doctors, surgeon and nurses. And I’ve very grateful to be well now. 

Picking up the pieces. 

The work in my studio had to sit for many months. There are pieces that were thrown and slab built during the summer and fall. Again, thinking I lacked motivation when I was really ill, they sat on the shelves. 

Now that I’ve recovered and my energy is back, I’ve been happily busy in the studio. New leaf plates got some color, too. Three new Lily Vases got underglazed in red. 

And I had fun painting three new polar bears and a cat. Next on the agenda is a bisque firing. Finally!

Moving with my heart and my hearts. 

I’m grateful to be packing up some heart themed pieces to take and sell at a local gallery. I loved making these heart mugs, teacups, wine cups and candle holders. And I’m hoping they bring color and love into other people’s lives. 

I’m so grateful to have more energy, appetite and strength. 

The grey fog that seemed to hang over me is gone. 

I feel renewed and ready to move forward. 

Putting my heart into my work and life.

Just in time for Valentine’s Day.    

2024 Word of the Year: Move

 

Every year, I chose a new word to help guide and inspire me. Last year’s word was Enjoy and while I’d like to say I had an ‘enjoyable’ year, I did not. It was a very hard year. Layoffs. Bureaucratic nightmares for 6 months trying to get healthcare and then, finding myself in the hospital. I’m good now, but I’m glad to see it over. 

It’s time to stop looking back in fear and anxiety and start looking ahead. Yes, I have to be careful as I recover, I tend to do too much, too fast. But I’m coming to the conclusion that it’s time to do more than reading novels and drinking tea. 

Move with care. 

I used to walk around my neighborhood lake almost everyday. I love the walk not just for exercise but for inspiration. Egrets, herons, beavers, otters, ducks, geese, deer and even coyotes live around the lake. The leaves changing, water reflections and sunsets give me food for my mind and soul. 

Obviously, after my hospital stay, I couldn’t walk everyday. I started out carefully walking around the neighborhood. But slowly, I’ve worked my way back to my ‘woods’. Today, I made it 1/2 way around the lake before the rain and snow started and it felt so good. 

Move with joy. 

I am a ‘maker’. To sit and read is fine for awhile, but I crave making things with my hands. It’s not just therapy, it’s joy. So it’s been hard to have to rest and see my studio work sit on the shelves. There’s so much I need to do: underglaze painting, bisque firing, glazing and final firing. 

To keep my spirits up, I’ve been crocheting. I know many might see it as an old fashioned ‘grandma’ thing but I’ve been doing some kind of work in fabric, thread, beads, and yarn all my life. I’ve embroidered, cross stitched, quilted, beaded and crocheted. I suck at sewing garments but I’ve made many pillows and throws in fabric and yarn. It’s my form of therapy and it works for me. 

Move with love. 

I was brought up to work and work hard. Move, move, move. Keep busy. Be productive. But I’ve begun to realize that pressure causes a lot of stress. My childhood coping skills of being a moving target served me then, but now, I need to make my own moves. I need to learn to move with love: for my mind, my body and my heart. 

What does that mean exactly? I’m not quite sure. But I do know it’s time to listen closer to my heart than my mind. Instead of jumping up every five minutes or rushing to and from the store or pushing myself to do more and make more, I need to breathe in. See the sun stream in. Feel the softness of the clay or yarn. Savor the walk while trying not to count my steps. 

Move. 

Move with care for myself, my body and my soul. 

Move with joy for making, baking and crocheting. 

Move with love for my family and myself. 

What moves you this year?

A Quiet Christmas

I didn’t plan it. I didn’t expect it. But sometimes life just takes over whether you want it to or not. And sometimes, it saves your life. 

Ok, here’s the story. I woke up and felt sick. The kind of sick you can’t ignore anymore and believe me, I had become an expert in ignoring it for months. But on this morning, it was not going to let me ignore it anymore. It scared me enough to make me head to the local urgent care. 

Luckily, I was seen right away. The nurse, doctor and tech staff were all patient, good listeners and soon had a diagnosis. I had diverticulitis. Which, I have found out is very common in adults over the age of 40. A prescription for antibiotics was phoned in, a CT scan was scheduled asap and I was sent home. 

Two days later, I went in for a CT scan and the diagnosis was the same: diverticulitis. I was relieved. A course of antibiotics and I would be fine. Right? 

Emergency Hell.

At 5pm that same day, I got a call from the urgent care doctor telling me to go to the Emergency Room ASAP. I was shocked. Stunned. I tried to talk him out of it. He said, “NO, you have to go to the hospital. NOW.”

So, in a panic, my husband drove to St. Vincent’s. We checked into the emergency room. We found a bench and waited for two hours. Just as we were getting up to leave, they called us into an emergency room.

Next thing I knew, I was admitted and taken to the surgical floor. I was told I needed a procedure to drain an abscess in my colon. I was set up with several antibiotic IV. I was terrified. But I had great nurses, who helped me understand what was going on. A young doctor came in and explained what they were going to do. The next day I had a procedure to drain the abscess. By the following day, I was allowed to go home with many instructions.

Cancelling Christmas. 

It was a very hard decision. We had all the presents, food arranged but it was decided with my condition and little  grandchildren with colds that we had to cancel our Christmas Day celebration. I was upset, but I knew it was for the best. 

Instead, my husband and I just hunkered down by the fire. I read, sipped tea and looked at the lovely lighted tree. I talked and video chatted with my kids. Nibbled on holiday cookies brought by a friend. And tried hard to see the bigger picture. 

Goodness and gratefulness.                                                                                                                                                                               

Thank goodness for my husband for doing the heavy lifting: wound care, medicines, groceries, cooking, cleaning and moral support. I’m so grateful for my great kids who took care of the dog and ran grocery errands. I’m grateful for the kind nurses, doctors and imaging staff. I’m grateful so, so grateful to the doctor who insisted I go to the hospital, he probably saved my life. 

Sometimes life throws you a big curve.

Listen to your body. 

Be brave. 

Don’t fight it out of fear. 

Trust it.  And help it heal. 

 

Letting The Light In

 

It’s that time of year when the sun sets early and it gets dark. I admit, I don’t like it. It makes me crave my tea and cookies which I do like, of course. The turning of the earth and the winter season brings many feelings to the surface for all of us. 

This year has brought many challenges from lay offs to fighting for 6 months to get social security and medical benefits. It’s been a scary roller coaster ride but now, thankfully, the dust is settling and my anxiety is easing. 

Small comforts and joys. 

I worried about the Holiday season this year. Would we have to cut back on all the things we usually do? How would we manage gifts and stockings for all? One thing I have come to know is we are not alone this year. Many people are facing a different holiday season: inflation pushing up prices and salaries are down or gone. 

I wasn’t looking forward to decorating at all. But here’s what I found out: I can still feel comfort and joy. 

The wreath I made years ago, still looks joyful on the hall table. 

The Christmas books we’ve read to our children and now grandchildren are still fun to share. 

The stockings have grown to include new babies and spouses. 

And this year, we’re filling them with homemade treats and handmade decorations. 

Light and lightening up. 

The lights on the tree give me the boost I need in the darkening afternoon.  Sitting in the nook next to my best friend and husband, I breathe in the light of our love. While some things have changed drastically for us, our relationship has not. 

In fact, right now as I write this blog, he is writing his podcast. We are both healthy and active and creative on our own and together. 

Yes, we have to lighten up our gift giving this year. 

But the light we share is still there.

For each other, for our children, grandchildren and friends. 

What I have to do everyday is remember:

To let it in. 

Grateful

It’s been a crazy year with so much change. And I’ll admit, I’m still in the process of coping with it all. Now, I have more good days than not good days. That’s progress. And, I am also very aware of how fortunate I am to be here on this earth, in my home with people I love and who love me. 

My family and friends and supporters are true treasures, whether they are two or four footed. Whether it’s sitting quietly reading, taking a trip to the craft store, helping me show my work,  walking in the park or giving me a giggle, I’m grateful for them everyday. 

Grateful for mud and yarn.

Putting my hands in soft, squishy, clay is one of the most therapeutic things I can do. It calms my swirling mind. It soothes my spirit. And it gives me something to do that I can show and sell. 

Being creative and productive is essential to my mind and body. I don’t take it for granted that I have the ability and opportunity to make things in my studio. Even if a piece takes a wrong turn, I see it as a challenge to turn it around again. Or, and this is hard for me, let it be what it wants to be instead of what I thought it would be. 

Crochet is another therapy for me. I take it out in the evening while we’re watching TV and just let my hands get into the rhythm of stitching. I’ve made so many blankets lately, everyone in the family has one (whether they wanted one or not). Then i saw all these knitted pumpkins in stores and decided to try my hand on a crochet pumpkin with leftover yarn. It didn’t turn out too bad. Now, I’m moving on to making a few hats for the new grand baby. After that? Who knows? 

Grateful for home. 

My husband and I designed and built our home many decades ago. It was a stretch for us, but we did it. Since then, we’ve repainted, reroofed, redone many of the spaces. Even though the  flood caused a major upset and change, I’m grateful we’re still here. 

Outside this year, we were challenged by the city and neighbors to fix the sidewalk broken by a huge Dedora Cedar tree. The city demanded we fix the sidewalk. And our neighbors demanded we cut down the tree because they hated the needles falling on their cars. I’m grateful for the expert arborists who helped us figure out how to fix the sidewalk and trim the tree. So it still stands tall and beautiful. 

Grateful. Yes, I am.  

For love and support and family and friends.

For my mud and clay lovers and gallery owners.

For my home and garden and trees. 

For all of us on this planet who move together to make this a better world.