I believe in gratitude. It can forge connections and make us feel less alone in a great big world, like nothing else. Yet sometimes, I take for granted that the people closest to me know how grateful I am for them. I’ll stop by my co-workers office to tell her how awesome those iced sugar cookies she left in the staff kitchen were, but I don’t think to e-mail my Mom to let her know how much I loved pulling one of her chocolate chip cookie bars out of the freezer. That it reminds me of childhood and of home.
This week I though I would pause to reflect on just a few of the other things I may have forgotten to thank my Mom for: Continue reading
Several weeks ago on a Saturday morning, I altered my route from the coffee shop home, walking the opposite way around the block. I turned the corner and ran right into a vampire. (Pictured above.) He’s part of the street art project that’s been going on in Richmond the last two years. I have no idea exactly when he appeared, or how long his creation took, but for me, it was like he materialized overnight.
My holiday weekend (it was the Fourth of July, here in the US), ended with a bit more excitement than I had planned for. Saturday night when I went to bed around 11:00pm I noticed that my eyelids were just a little bit swollen. I’ve had a ongoing issue with some yet to be determined ingredient that is apparently quite prevalent in facial moisturizers. I had tried a new product earlier in the day, so I applied a little of the ointment I use when this rears it’s ugly head and went to bed.
Three hours later, I woke up and could tell with the first blink of my eyes that something was wrong. A trip to the bathroom mirror revealed that not only were my eyelids swollen, but also pretty much the enitre middle of my face from the bridge of my nose down to my upper lip. It was also bright red. Continue reading
Last month marked one year of blogging for me. I can honestly say it is one of the few things in life that I started with a sense of obligation (i.e. “I really should start a blog. Writers have blogs. I then, must also have a blog.”) that ended up enriching my life in ways I never imagined.
Sometimes the words come easy. Sometimes the stories flow so fast I worry my fingers won’t be able to keep up. Sometimes the ideas keep me up at night. This year hasn’t been particularly full of these times. I don’t know why. I don’t particularly believe in writer’s block, nor do I want to spend copious amounts of time (over) analyzing the situation. Mostly what I want to do is nurture the part of myself that loves words and sentences and paragraphs and poems and songs and novels.
Blogging has allowed me to do just that; create my own words, read those of others. But it’s also given me you. It’s given me readers. Honestly, I started this and wondered if anyone would ever even visit (it was, after all, just another WordPress.com site . . .) I never expected people to follow. To like posts. To make comments. I certainly never imagined that people would tell me in person that they read my blog, but it’s happened countless times in the last year. Often from those I never imagined were reading, always with kind words.
So I wanted to pause and say thank you. Thank you for making this an amazing experience. Thank you for chosing to take your precious time to read my words. And thank you for encouraging me. Every comment, every like, every mention has done it’s part to nurture this writer’s soul.
Here’s to another year . . .
A few weeks ago, I read this lovely post on women and connection and support. It has stuck with me (as so many things I read there do) and I have found myself reflecting on the concept of tribe quite a bit; specifically about the shifts and changes in my personal tribe over the years.
The times of large groups of friends and those of smaller clusters. The people who have been in my life for years and those who have been with me for a season. Those that I lean on daily and those who were there for me in one pivotal moment. Those who make radically different choices and those whose life’s trajectory could be my own. Those I’ve actually met and those to whom I am connected to through words.
My tribe has been everything from dinner with a huge table full of women in my college residence hall; to beers at the bar with one dear friend. It’s made up of mothers by birth and marriage; aunts both familial and chosen. Cousins and friend-siblings. Mentors, advisors and godparents. Co-workers turned friends and bloggers whose words speak to my soul.
As I think of this kaleidoscope of women, I realize that there aren’t really adequate words to express their collective and individual impact on my life. I can only simply state that I am grateful. For the women I know, have known and will know. For my tribe as it exists today and for what it will evolve into tomorrow.