Five on Friday: Filling the Well

“...and then, I have nature and art and poetry,

and if that is not enough, what is enough?”

~ Vincent van Gogh 

The Van Gogh Museum recently posted that, in the many letters he wrote over the years, Vincent van Gogh mentioned over 1,100 works by different artists and at least 800 books and magazine articles. To be so well-read and aware of such a variety of artists and books in his line of work, and then to pass along that knowledge to others, well, I find that truly fascinating. And, he didn't even have access to the Internet or Google. 

No wonder his art is so wonderful. Just think of the wealth of information that enriched and deepened his knowledge, understanding, and development of his artistic abilities. Talk about filling the inner well to overflowing. With such a springboard for inspiration surely he never ran out of ideas to explore or experiment with. It all would have helped him to stretch and grow both as an artist and as an individual.

"A mind that is stretched by a new experience

can never go back to its old dimensions."

~ Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr.

It makes me stop to consider what I'm doing to create a fresh and flowing well of inspiration for myself. I think about what I'm reading that enriches my own life, personally and as a writer. Curiosity plays such a big role in searching out new things. Thankfully, there's a great big world out there for us to be curious about. Someone recently said that Her Majesty the Queen, at age 92, has never lost her sense of curiosity and that is why she still enjoys life. Having more access to Royal photos these days, I would agree -- there are so many photos where the joy radiates from her face.

“It is looking at things for a long time that ripens you

and gives you a deeper meaning.”

~ Vincent van Gogh 

So, yes, I want to stay royally curious. I do have an insatiable desire to continually deepen my understanding about myself and the world around me. I want to keep the wonder fresh in me -- I admit sometimes it gets jaded -- but I do work to keep growing and learning and exploring things I never thought much about before. Our brains are wired that way, we're told they get excited when we ruffle their ridges and waves with new things. 

Even so, I am inspired by Mr. van Gogh's noteworthy example and plan to take myself in hand to read wider and deeper. To fill the inner well of my soul with good, sweet water.

"Knowing what is right is like deep water in the heart;

a wise person draws from the well within."

~ The ancient book of wisdom, Proverbs 20:5

On a slightly different note, many of us have read Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way at some point in our lives. We don't have to be writers or painters to find value in her book for we are all creative artists in one way or another. You may recall how she uses the image of the inner well as an artistic reservoir. She says,

"Art is an image-using system. In order to create, we draw from our inner well. This inner well, an artistic reservoir, is ideally like a well-stocked trout pond. We've got big fish, little fish, fat fish, skinny fish -- an abundance of artistic fish to fry. As artists, we must realize that we have to maintain this artistic ecosystem.

If we don't give some attention to upkeep, our well is apt to become depleted, stagnant, or blocked. ... As artists we must learn to be self-nourishing. We must become alert enough to consciously replenish our creative resources as we draw on them -- to restock the trout pond, so to speak. I call this process filling the well."

Today's post is all about filling the inner well. As you scroll down, you will see some of the little gifts that came to nourish me this week, to top up my own depleting well. I offer them now to you with the hope there is something here that will stir and refresh and inspire your own soul.

ONE. EARLY ONE MORNING

Photo: Danielle Dolson | unsplash.com

It is always sunrise somewhere; the dew is never all dried at once;

a shower is forever falling; vapor is ever rising.

Eternal sunrise, eternal sunset, eternal dawn and gloaming,

on sea and continents and islands,

each in its turn, as the round earth rolls.

~ John Muir

Such a lovely breeze came into my study window early one gray, drizzly morning. Disregarding the rain, birds chattered in the backyard, vying for spots at the feeders. I found it all most companionable as I sat at my desk looking out. I felt the solitude, the solace, the peacefulness. The way I like to start any day.

TWO. A SINGLE MOMENT ONE EVENING

Photo: David Vig | unsplash.com

tree-ward eyes do gaze

fragrant breezes caress a face

as music from the leaves begins

shhh, be hushed!

may day's agitations now release
~ bcl ~

I went for my walk the other evening. I headed up the street towards the west, and as I came to the bend in the road, I caught a whiff of something on the breeze. In that moment, the trees along the street were releasing their lovely earthy, woody fragrance after a long, hot day. I can never quite find words for that smell -- can you? A mix of earth and green, maybe a hint of berry or herb. Whatever it is, in that brief second I felt as if I were strolling along some lush woodsy path.

Then... a truck blew by and left diesel in its wake. The moment evaporated. And, with that the city street was back. In spite of the rude interruption, I cherished my tiny bit of heaven, and now still remember it two days later. That's why I must tell you about it.

THREE. COSMOS AT DAWN

"Flowers always make people better, happier, and more helpful;

they are sunshine, food and medicine to the mind."

~ Luther Burbank

It was just after 5:00 am when I slipped out the front door to snip a couple of pink cosmos for the little green vase on my desk. I love their pinkness. So rich and vibrant. Sometimes when the sun is just right and the light lands on the petals, I'm reminded of that delightful treat of yesteryear and have a mind to dub them "Popsicle Pinks".

FOUR. MARIGOLDS AND YARROW

"Open afresh your rounds of starry folds,

Ye ardent Marigolds.

~ John Keats

Then I walk past the patch of marigolds to run my fingertips along their scented petals. Snipped off the spent blossoms. Their very marigold-ish scent lingers on my fingers -- pungent like tomato leaves.

The day's begun and I bring my little gifts inside where they give me joy all the day long.

FIVE. MY GROWING SUMMER READING PILE

Libraries change lives. They are the soul of a people.

~ Diane Ackerman

Here is what I've got on the table for my 'digging deeper' summer reading. One or two I've read before (like Austen's), others I'm in the middle of, and the rest I am looking forward to getting into. I'm quite certain more will be added as the weeks go by.

Sense and Sensibility

by Jane Austen

“I come here with no expectations, only to profess, now that I am at liberty to do so, that my heart is and always will be...yours.” My favourite line in the book -- and especially thrilling when Mr. Edward Ferrars (Hugh Grant) speaks it so sublimely in the movie.

Learn by Heart Poetry

compiled by George Davidson

An anthology of poems to be read, enjoyed, and learned. Poets include Blake, Burns, Dickinson, Keats, Shakespeare, Yeats, Whitman, and many others.

"We should learn a poem because we like it, because we have enjoyed reading it, because it speaks to us, because it makes us laugh or cry, because it brings us solace or reassurance, because it gives us a better understanding of ourselves or of other people, because it brings back memories of childhood, or for any of a dozen other personal reasons. We should learn a poem because...we want to have it with us as a readily available companion in all that life brings us or throws at us." ~ excerpt from the Introduction by George Davidson

Dawn Light: Dancing with Cranes and Other Ways To Start the Day

by Diane Ackerman (author of The Zookeeper's Wife)

"All dawns delight me. No two people experience the same dawn, psychologically or literally. On the equator, dawn unfolds in minutes; at the poles it can stretch for hours. Only as dawn's final drama does the sun actually rise. ... Being in nature at dawn always comforts me."

The Best Spiritual Writing 2013

Philip Zaleski, Editor

I haven't read this book yet, but I just found it at the library. I have read one or two other editions as a way to catch a glimpse of what writers of various faith traditions talk about.

Zen in the Art of Writing: Essays on Creativity

by Ray Bradbury

“Read poetry every day of your life. Poetry is good because it flexes muscles you don’t use often enough. Poetry expands the senses and keeps them in prime condition. It keeps you aware of your nose, your eye, your ear, your tongue, your hand. And, above all, poetry is compacted metaphor or simile. Such metaphors, like Japanese paper flowers, may expand outward into gigantic shapes. Ideas lie everywhere through the poetry books, yet how rarely have I heard short story teachers recommending them for browsing. // What poetry? Any poetry that makes your hair stand up along your arms. Don’t force yourself too hard. Take it easy. Over the years you may catch up to, move even with, and pass T. S. Eliot on your way to other pastures. ..." ~ excerpt from the book

And, here's an off-the-wall fun quote by Ray Bradbury, which I admit to giggling over: “I have never listened to anyone who criticized my taste in space travel, sideshows or gorillas. When this occurs, I pack up my dinosaurs and leave the room.” I think he'll be fun to read.

The Paper Garden, Mrs. Delany Begins Her Life's Work at 72

by Molly Peacock

A biography/memoir about a woman who lived in the 1700's: Mary Granville Pendarves Delany, daughter of gentry, married at 17 to a drunk, widowed, happily remarried, then widowed again. At age 72 "she rose from her grief, picked up her scissors, and invented a new art form: mixed-media-collage. Over the next decade, she created an astonishing collection of 985 botanically precise, gorgeous flower mosaics." ~ from back cover

See? It's never too late to begin again.

Sharing the Journey: Women Reflecting on Life's Passages

edited by Katherine Ball Ross

This is a collection of essays that were written originally for Victoria magazine. The excerpt below is from one essay by Jane Smiley Jane Austen's Heroines.

"When I first read through my thick Modern Library edition of all six of Jane Austen's novels, I was younger than Elizabeth Bennet. When I reread the novels in graduate school, this time in standard editions plumped out by scholarly matter, I was nearly as old as Anne Elliot (Persuasion). Now I'm older than Mrs. Bennet, and my daughters are nearly Elizabeth and Lydia Bennet's contemporaries. (I am almost as old as Sir Walter Elliot.) I no longer read for the love story, or even, in some ways, for the comedy. I read Austen in order to contemplate her views on the proper behavior of women, and her views are complex. They evolve from novel to novel. They cover a lot of ground, too -- small things like the rudeness of not answering letters quickly fully express larger problems of selfishness ... "

James Herriot's Yorkshire Revisited

This book brings together excerpts from James Herriot's writings

and photos by Derry Brabbs

"I pulled off the unfenced road on to the grass, switched off the engine and opened the windows wide. The farm back there was like an island of activity in the quiet landscape and now that I was away from the noise and the stuffiness of the buildings the silence and the emptiness enveloped me like a soothing blanket. I leaned my head against the back of the seat and looked out at the chequered greens of the little fields along the flanks of the hills; thrusting upwards between their walls till they gave way to the jutting rocks and the harsh brown of the heather which flooded the wild country above."

* * *

I think that's more than enough for one post. I really should write more often so I don't have to cram everything into one post. But that's in my ideal world -- I hope you will forebear with me until I find that world where inspiration, time, and energy arrive and meld at the same time. 

Without another word, here's wishing you a beautiful day,

Hugs,

Brenda

xox

Should you be receiving this post via email, please do not reply to it. This email is not generated by me (Brenda) but by my blog host, Blogger -- any replies you might send will go nowhere. // If, however, you want to reply you can leave a comment on my blog directly by clicking on the link 'Brenda @ It's A Beautiful Life' located at the bottom left hand side of this email. Thanks!

Reading on a Summer Afternoon

Photo: Val Vesa | unsplash.com

“Summer afternoon—summer afternoon;

to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.”

~ Henry James

There's nothing like the warmth of a summer afternoon and the drone of bees in the flower garden to bring back equally warm memories of the books I read as a girl during summer holidays—Anne of Green Gables, Little House on the Prairie, Nancy Drew, Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm, Lassie, Pippi Longstocking, Five Little Peppers and How They Grew, and The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, to name but a few.

People tend to remember not only their childhood books but the places where they read them—on the front porch swing, in the attic, in the crook of a huge tree. I don't recall having a special place per se. 'Have new storybook, will read anywhere' was my motto—on my bed, laying on the living room couch, sitting on the back step with the dog nearby, stretched out on a blanket in the shade of the huge poplars. It never really mattered where, for once I cracked open the book, down the rabbit hole I'd disappear and everything else would fade into the background. I could be gone for hours with my eyes glued to the pages.

Recently, I found a copy of Tom Sawyer at our library book sale. I felt the draw of the old Golden Illustrated Classic cover, and so now here I sit in my garden, those bees buzzing in the thyme, with the book in my lap. Mark Twain, in his 1876 Preface, declared that his book was intended mainly for the entertainment of boys and girls. I can attest, this girl was duly entertained. He went on to say, "I hope it will not be shunned by men and women on that account, for part of my plan has been to try to pleasantly remind adults of what they once were themselves, and of how they felt and thought and talked, and what queer enterprises they sometimes engaged in."

How well Mr. Twain knows us. Opening the storybook to read long forgotten but strangely familiar lines, memories gushed like water from a hose on a warm day. Not only about the story itself, but about my own surroundings and who I was at that age when I first read it.

Tom Sawyer lived in a world vastly different from my own—in the Mississippi River town of St. Petersburg, Missouri. It sounded much more interesting, I thought, than growing up on a Canadian prairie farm where playmates were scarce, so I was highly intrigued by his lively escapades with his chums. I giggled at how Tom inveigled his friends to paint the "far-reaching continent of Aunt Polly's unwhitewashed fence". Clever lad. And, who could forget the delicious chill when Tom sneaked out of the house late one night to visit the grave yard with Huck Finn. I allowed myself to imagine sneaking out of our house in the dark of night with little sister in tow to the tree-lined graveyard in town where Grandpa was buried, and I just knew I couldn't do it. In daylight it was a pleasantly amiable spot, but in the dead of night, I was pretty certain I'd be as spooked as Tom and Huck had been. Happy was I to live that adventure vicariously through two braver-than-I fellows.

* * *  

Reading those lines above, I found it hard to shift gears and come back into the present. I wanted to stay there and relive a few more adventures with Tom -- I could feel the girl I once was coming out of the shadows and enjoying her old memories for a few moments.

But, I do want to tell you about three other books I'm dipping into these warm summer afternoons.

Sharing the Journey, Women Reflecting on Life's Passages
edited by Katherine Ball Ross (1997, 2007)

It's a collection of essays originally published in the Victoria magazine back in the day when Nancy Lindemeyer was editor. There's a lovely foreword by Nancy, and it features writers such as Diane Ackerman, Madeleine L'Engle, Susan Minot, Tovah Martin, Reeve Lindbergh (daughter of famous Anne Morrow Lindbergh), among others.

I wanted a copy of this book for years, but reason would win out, saying that since I still had the original magazines with these essays in them, I didn't really need the book. Yes, it's true, but you know what they say about such matters: The heart wants what the heart wants. So, when I found an Amazon birthday gift card in my hand in Spring, I splurged, and you know, it really is nice to sit down and find those favourite essays bound together in one volume.

The flower can always be changing
by Shawna Lemay (2018)

This slim volume of tiny essays caught my eye recently while browsing for something nice at the local bookstore. It was the book cover and the title that stopped me in my tracks. Doesn't it look inviting to read on a summer afternoon?

I'm now in the middle of it and am enjoying very much the author's thoughts about life and beauty and flowers. She says, "I've come to understand the soul is a flower with which to bless the world." I think we might be kindred spirits. How lovely to learn that this new-to-me author lives in a city very near me, which means she's a local girl like me. She is also a blogger at Transactions with Beauty which you can find here.

"Inspired by the words of Virginia Woolf, Ms Lemay welcomes you into her home, her art and her life as a poet and photographer of the every day."  ~ from the back cover

Martha's Vineyard, Isle of Dreams
by Susan Branch (2016)

I just finished reading this lovely memoir ... for the third time now. The first time, I really tried not to hurry through it too much but I have to tell you it's a page turner. If I did finish too quickly, I could do a happy dance, turn around, and read it all again. Which I did.

Knowing how the book ends, I was able to relax and just savour each page—enjoying Susan's lovely artwork in detail, pondering the cute and pithy sayings she included for our mirth and pleasure, letting the story wash over me with its poignant moments as well as its delightful laugh out loud ones. All the while nodding in total recognition of a kindred spirit—for even though our life stories are worlds apart, there is so much that resonates and is the same.

As a young woman Susan knew she wanted to change the world—well, she certainly has made the world a better place with her cheerful, resolute, and generous spirit as well as her endearing books. She has delighted the lives of many 'girlfriends', including this particular one!

* * *

I couldn't close this post without showing you a couple of pictures of our mock orange. It has given us such joy again this summer. As Susan Branch so aptly said once, "I could never in a hundred summers get tired of this." A huge shrub now, it towers over our back deck. Each year it comes thick with delicate blossoms, filling the air with its sweet perfume—making it a perfect spot to read.

Fragrance, beauty, and a good book. What more could a person ask for? I heard that, someone out there chimed that an iced glass of something cool and a nibble of something fruity and sweet could be it! You are right, that would make it practically perfect in every way.

"All in all, it was a never to be forgotten summer—one of those summers which come seldom into any life, but leave a rich heritage of beautiful memories in their going—one of those summers which, in a fortunate combination of delightful weather, delightful friends and delightful doing, come as near to perfection as anything can come in this world." ~ L.M. Montgomery, Anne's House of Dreams

* * *

"Deep summer is when laziness finds respectability."

~ Sam Keen

* * *

"Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass on a summer day

listening to the murmur of water, or watching the clouds float across the sky,

is hardly a waste of time."

~ John Lubbock

And, so I come to the end. I hope you will have lots of those deep summer moments to idle away with a good book in a shady spot. I'd love to hear what you are reading this summer. Here's wishing you a wonderful week ahead.

Hugs,

Brenda

xox

A Single Peony Blossom

A flowerless room is a soulless room, to my way of thinking;

but even a solitary little vase of a living flower may redeem it.

~ Vita Sackville-West

* * *

I must have flowers, always, and always.” 

~ Claude Monet

* * *

“A flower blossoms for its own joy.”

~ Oscar Wilde

* * *

Wishing you glimpses of heaven in unexpected places
and a wonderful weekend ahead!

From my garden to your heart,

Brenda

xox

A Little Something On Monday

**A little something from the garden**

I had a little lesson about finding treasure in the muddy and broken. A couple of these tiny sprigs were salvaged from their mother plants when they broke off and got muddied during a heavy rainstorm a couple days ago. I plucked them up and rinsed them off. The purple salvia (which looks so much like lavender, doesn't it?) took a hit during transport from the garden centre, so I had to regretfully clip off one of the spiky blossoms.

The tiny green bottle a friend once gave me creates a very nice home for these reclaimed beauties. They now sit on top of a stack of books on my desk, with my copy of Oxford Sketchbook as their backdrop.

**A little something for dessert**

The other day I found six of these tiny glass dessert cups at the thrift store. Just what I didn't know I needed until I saw them. We currently have suitcase size ice cream bowls which really are too big for those of us trying to be a little more careful with the sugars and sweets. They take three scoops to fill. A single scoop looks lost in the bottom, which often means 'we'll just top that up, shall we'?

No, we really don't want to top it up, thank you, so these smaller bowls will do nicely. Although you can't really gauge from the photo, there's just enough room for a single scoop of ice cream or a small fruit salad. The bowl's even too small for an ordinary teaspoon to properly sit on the side--it just tips out. Which means I might need to search out some of those shorter spoons too.

What's in the bowl, you ask? Frozen vanilla yogurt topped with the last-in-the-house tiny morsel of delicious Celebration Lemon Creme cookie on a dark chocolate biscuit base. Breaking it into bits, I sprinkled it over top. A spoonful of frozen yogurt, a lemon zest bit, and a bite of chocolate -- let's just say we were content!

**A little side dish for dinner**

This is a simple summer salad using radishes fresh from the garden, or the grocery store if you don't have a garden. The twist is the delightful mix of radish, caraway, and oregano in a white wine vinaigrette. Not sure where I found this recipe, but I'm glad I did. Yum. 

Radish Salad

10 - 15 radishes, thinly sliced

Dressing

2 tsp. white wine vinegar

2 tsp. canola or olive oil

1 tsp. caraway seed

2 tsp. fresh Greek oregano

1 garlic clove, minced

1/4 tsp. sugar

Sprinkle of salt

Dash of pepper

Serves 2

photo: pixabay.com

**A little something to ponder with your morning coffee**

"Great opportunities come to all, but many do not know
they have met them. The only preparations to take advantage
of them is simple fidelity to watch what each day brings."
~ Albert E. Dunning

* * *

"Creative work is not a selfish act or a bid for attention on the
part of the actor. It's a gift to the world and every being in it.
Don't cheat us of your contribution. Give us what you've got."
~ Steven Pressfield


* * *

"For one moment quit being sad.
Hear blessings dropping their blossoms all around you."
~ Rumi


* * *

"Do for one what you wish
you could do for everyone."
~ Andy Stanley

* * *

On that note, I'm wishing you a pleasant week ahead. I truly hope there is something scheduled in it that makes you look forward to it with delight and confidence.

Hugs,
Brenda
xox

How I Found My Beautiful Life: Somewhere Near the Beginning

Unknown | unsplash.com

"Every life is braided with luminous moments."

~ John O'Donohue, from The Invisible Embrace of Beauty

   

This post goes back in time to the start of my life's journey. No, not as far back as my birth date--I was thinking a little more recent than that, but still over forty years ago. It was 1977 and I was about to graduate from college. I had just turned twenty, and although turning eighteen two years earlier meant I was legally an adult, for me it was my twentieth birthday and graduation that really marked the end of my youth and childhood and ushered in my life as an adult. It was a monumental moment as I gazed into my future.

Though the future was expectedly misty in detail, I felt alive with youthful hope for all the possibilities spread out before me. Naturally I was curious about what my life would be like, but one thing I had absolutely no doubt about. It was something I'd been dreaming about since I was a little girl -- that my life would definitely include one very nice Prince Charming. And by my estimation he had already run a little late for a very important date. You see, I had secretly hoped to meet this handsome young man during my college years, to be one of the couples who studied together in the library, mooning over their books and secretly holding hands under the table. (Lorrie, was that you?) 

Alas, it was not to be. Slightly disappointed but completely confident he would appear around the next corner, I worried not. There were just so many other interesting things to fill my thoughts--like getting ready for the four-month working trip to Venezuela I would embark on shortly after grad. Life was good.

Memories are like antiques,

the older they are the more valuable they became.

~ Marinela Reka

There is something that I have to tell you about before I go any further. It was just a tiny moment in time, but it ended up playing a key role in my overall life story. It was just before graduation and everyone was clearing out their dorm rooms. My roommate, Darlene, had already moved her things out. I, too, was packed and ready to go hand in the key. The room, empty and bereft of all our college paraphernalia, echoed with memories of laughter and homesick tears, silly and fun hall parties, late night whispered confidences, life-time friendships being forged, remembrances of those crazy all-nighter stints to finish term papers, including my room detention once for skipping breakfast too many times. So many wonderful memories had been created in that room. Now it was time to go.

In that moment before the door closed for the last time, I stopped to whisper a little prayer. It was me marking the threshold moment. God, as I begin my new life, I want You to know I am willing to do whatever You have for me, and when I'm not willing, I'm willing to be made willing ... and please don't let me marry the wrong man.

Little did I know that little cry that I seemingly tacked on at the end in all earnestness was to impact my life for years to come.

* * *

When I think about my twenties and my thirties, I think of them this way: my twenties were all about finding my life as an adult, and my thirties were all about discovering how to have a beautiful life when I found myself a career girl and still single, not the wife, mother, and homemaker I once dreamed of being.

Right after grad, I traveled to Venezuela and lived there for four months. I loved, loved living there but that's a story for another time. When I came back home to Canada, I stayed with my family on the farm until Christmas, after which my mom and I went into the big city to hunt for an apartment, so that I could start looking for a job. What fun I had setting up housekeeping for myself, paying rent each month like a grownup, finding new friends, going shopping, and participating in a new church and young adult group. I was involved in volunteering and loved teaching Sunday School to grade five kids, singing in the choir and the annual Singing Christmas Tree, creating workshops for church education conferences, going on holidays, entertaining friends, taking community courses such as flower arranging and sewing.

In the middle of it all, over the years I kept my eyes peeled for that nice Prince Charming who was sure to be stepping out of the shadows any moment and who would be the one to help make my dreams come true. But, as life would have it, in all those years that nice young man never materialized. There were some possibilities, but promising starts always ended in disappointment. One young man told my roommate he thought I was beautiful, but that he wasn't ready to get married (he was engaged six months later, so much for not being ready to marry, just not to me).

Another one was perfect (in my eyes) but when he found I was older than he was, he figured I wasn't perfect for him and was outta there. So, so disappointed. It's good to learn to trust God in those times, but oh the tears and wails along the way. One time I cried out to Him asking for something from Him that would sustain me in my heartbreak. He replied (to my astonishment). I actually heard His voice somewhere near my ear, and I knew it was Jesus speaking. I told Him that I had so much love to give and nobody wanted it. And He said, yes, he knew how that felt too. Talk about an intersecting of my heart with the Divine One. That was an experience I held dear to my heart for a very long time. I felt cherished and honoured that he would speak to me so clearly. To think that we shared this similar 'rejection'. He knew my heart and now I knew something of His heart. I was truly comforted by it.

* * *

The decade and my twenties flew by and soon I found myself turning thirty. I was established in my job working for the Premier of Alberta--a career girl just like Mary Tyler Moore--something I had not planned for at all. But I liked my job. I loved working at my own desk, and I loved the beautiful Legislature Building in which I worked. I had good friends and enjoyed fun times together. I went to Europe with my best friend-sister-housemate, Jean. I joined the calligraphy guild and took water colour classes, even took a Victorian lampshade making class. I adored our two sweet kitties, Gilbert and Sullivan--they filled my life with so much joy. I was involved with a church I loved. And I was a proud auntie to three little nephews. Did I say that life was good, it was just not what I expected.

I'll have you know I did not have a melt down when I turned thirty upon coming home from yet another wedding still single in a world where everybody else seemed to be finding partners. I had meltdowns in my twenties, but I was growing up. I'd already had some inklings as I neared my new decade that I needed to shift my thinking. I had to think about what I wanted ... and after much heart searching, I knew I wanted to live a beautiful life ... show the world it was more than okay to be single. That there was life and happiness in this state of being. Oh, and though I still hoped for love and marriage, I wasn't going to wait around for it anymore.

We must be willing to let go of the life we have planned,

so as to have the life that is waiting for us.

~ E.M. Forster 

For the life of me, I don't know why I didn't ever clue in that I had prayed a prayer years earlier about not marrying the wrong man. Maybe I never thought God would take notice or that He would actually answer it. Yet, all along He was very faithfully closing the door on unsuitable mates, until years later, when meeting the man I would marry, that door never closed. Through it all, I was learning to trust Him.

* * *

And so... you now have a little idea of where I started and how things unfolded in my life as a young woman. I had to learn to embrace the life I had, not the one I yearned for. I also had to learn that a beautiful life doesn't just happen, but it's something that flourishes and grows choice by choice by choice. And, by listening to the One who longed to share His wisdom and His beautiful love with me.

There's so much more to tell. It will come little by little ... I have to go through the memory archives much like going into an old cedar chest. Only instead of storing away treasured items, I'll be taking things out -- kind of like a hope chest in reverse. But that's all for another day. It's time to wrap this up for today. So, on that note...

I'm wishing you glimpses

of heaven in unexpected places,

Hugs,

Brenda

xox