Once upon a time, there was a crazy girl…


…and she found herself in the middle of a swirl of unexpected things.  She tried to muddle through. She kept moving her feet, and the rest of her, but she seemed to be getting nowhere.  Since this wasn’t working, she decided to stop moving her feet, and the rest of her, and just BE.

Whatever would come, would come.  And she would deal with it then.  In the meantime, she decided to back away slowly and keep her head down.  Self preservation is important. Serenity is important. Mindfulness is important.  So she decided to move slowly and wait for everything to fall into place… like it always does. She was so grateful she remembered that part.

And then she felt better.

The Beginning


“Gift From the Sea”


I began these pages for myself, in order to think out my own particular pattern of living, my own individual balance of life, work and human relationships.  And since I think best with a pencil in my hand, I started naturally to write.  I had the feeling, when the thoughts first clarified on paper, that my experience was very different from other people’s.  (Are we all under this illusion?)  My situation had, in certain ways, more freedom than that of most people, and in certain ways, much less.

Besides, I thought, not all women are searching for a new pattern of living, or want a contemplative corner of their own.  Many women are content with their lives as they are.  They manage amazingly well, far better than I, it seemed to me, looking at their lives from the outside.  With envy and admiration, I observed the porcelain perfection of their smoothly ticking days.  Perhaps they had no problems, or had found the answers long ago.  No, I decided, these discussions would have value and interest only for myself.

But as I went on writing and simultaneously talking with other women, young annd old, with different lives and experiences – those who supported themselves, those who wished careers, those who were hard-working housewives and mothers, and those with more ease – I found that my point of view was not unique.  In varying settings and under different forms, I discovered that many women, and men too, were grappling with essentially the same questions as I, and were hungry to discuss and argue and hammer out possible answers.  Even those whose lives had appeared to be ticking imperturbably under their smiling clock-faces were often trying like me, to evolve another rhythm with more creative pauses in it, more adjustment to their individual needs, and new and more alive relationships to themselves as well as others.

And so gradually, these chapters, fed by conversations, arguments and revelations from men and women of all groups, became more than my individual story, until I decided in the end to give them back to the people who had shared and stimulated many of these thoughts.  Here, then, with my warm feelings of gratitude and companionship for those working along the same lines, I return my gift from the sea.

I am at the beach for a week.  Yay. Freaking. Me.  It’s been fabulous and I haven’t even hit the beach yet.

The above is the introduction from the beautiful work, Gift From the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh. I am reading this while I am at the beach.  I hope to find some insight.  It is so stunningly, beautifully, written.  It is absolutely awe inspiring, the way she weaves words.  Reading it in a hammock MUST be what she had in mind.

I’ll share more tomorrow.  Not sure it will be excerpts from the text every day but some of it may be.

Now off to the beach.. to find my gift from the sea.

Anne Morrow Lindbergh (born Anne Spencer Morrow; June 22, 1906 – February 7, 2001) was an American author, aviator, and the spouse of fellow aviator Charles Lindbergh. She was an acclaimed author whose books and articles spanned the genres of poetry to non-fiction, touching upon topics as diverse as youth and age; love and marriage; peace, solitude and contentment, as well as the role of women in the 20th century.

Let Go


A couple of days ago I noticed an unusual bug on my driver’s side car window as I was getting in my car.   He was kind of sleek and small, with a prominent stinger.  “Cool bug” I thought to myself.  I got in and backed down the driveway.  It wasn’t until I turned onto the main road that I noticed it was still there, hanging on to the window.  Even though I wasn’t yet up to speed, the wind was really beating up this bug.  His wings, head, everything was getting battered.  “Let go!” I said to the bug.  It didn’t.  “Hey, stupid bug!  Let go!  You’re going to rips your wings off!”  Nope.  I was trying to go slow but I had to go a reasonable speed for the road.  Probably about 35 mph.  I watched as, one leg at a time, the wind got the better of the “cool bug” and finally he disappeared into the breeze.  Stupid bug.

And then I realized that I’m a stupid bug, too.  I’m dealing with things that are beyond my control, at least as far as I’m willing to attempt to control them.  And I’m sure that God has his hands cupped around his mouth calling down, “Let go, little one!  Let go! I got this!”  But no.  I’m not letting go.  I’m a rather tenacious bug.  I sink my teeth into something, I don’t want to let go.  I want to help.  No really.  I can help.  Let me help.  I can do it.  No, I’m sure I can. (repeat).

As much as I hate to admit it, I’d rather have my limbs torn off than let go.  Why?  Because it’s what I know.  It’s my instinct to hold on.  I’ve lost things before.  I don’t want to lose this.  I.  MUST.  HOLD.  ON.

I’ve got to let go.  I KNOW it will be alright.  I’ve lived the life of “let go” before.  I liked it.  Much more peaceful.  It will work out better than I could have ever dreamed up on my own.  I just have to sit back and watch it work ~ like magic, ~ because it will.  I don’t want to let go.  I want to fix it.  But I will only make myself crazy in the meantime.  Sometimes these things take time.  Timing is everything.  I’m afraid to let it slip away.  I might not get a second chance.  But that’s fear.  Fear is not of God.  I cannot operate based on fear because that doesn’t work.  I have to operate from a place of love.  I have to open my heart and let go of my fear.

Let go.  Open my heart.  Love.  Watch for the miracle.  Because no matter how it plays out, it is a miracle and it’s perfect.  Sometimes it takes a while to see, but it’s true all the same.

Image:  http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QwfkhrGaYZ4/TdUq89Bb03I/AAAAAAAAAxE/TNan4ro4-4E/s1600/let-go.jpg

The Dance

Today is a day of grieving for my family.  Well, it’s ANOTHER day of grieving.  We lost my nephew in a tragic car accident last Wednesday night.  Today is his memorial service.  The pain surrounding all associated with this ordeal is horrific.  It just doesn’t stop.

This is a day when we give thanks for the joy of knowing him.  This is a day we celebrate his life.  This is a day we formally acknowledge as “farewell.”

Farewell. Godspeed.  Til we meet again.


The Dance ~ Garth Brooks