Possibility

I adore old keys. Growing up in ancient houses probably helped spark my adoration of keys as I remember the skeleton keys that went to our locks. Holding one in my hand today is a flashback to the past. A piece of key shaped childhood. Of freedom and fun, play and carefree days.

Antique keys hold so much mystery. They unlock the imagination. Who did they belong to? What secrets did they lock safely away? They represent security.

I was gifted a handful of keys (pic taken via iPad) recently from a lovely friend. I have great hope for their use as the possibilities are endless. I imagine using them in photographs, encaustic art, making a mobile or windchime, something loving and artsy. Instead, they end up hidden away in a drawer. Treasures of their own, ironically locked away for safe keeping, their potential lying stagnant as I cannot bare to part with them. Perhaps it was growing up poor that causes me to hang onto treasure as when I open the drawer that holds my collection, I feel like the richest girl on the block. That alone makes them worth their weight.

Still, it saddens me, this inability to use them. I fear not doing them justice. Not having an art piece turn out good enough. Not having the pictures successfully represent their beauty. It is the "not good enough" part that causes me to keep them locked away. "Not good enough" is not good enough for me anymore.

What a cathartic post! I wasn't expecting it to end this way! What an epiphany! I think I'll take my key collection and proudly display them in a bowl where I will pass them regularly and they can whisper to me and spark my creativity. They will say, "You are good enough! Come play!"

2012 - A Year With Faith

This past year has been a doozy. I have heard the same sentiment from many and witnessed the same from many. A year of challenges, changes, losses, pains. Along with those pains came growth, but at a cost. Perhaps 2012 will be known as the year of growing pains. 

My arms are open and ready to embrace 2013. They are open but not wide. A guarded embrace will take place as the clock strikes twelve. 

As I grew more accustomed to the blogging world over the last few years or so, I embraced the tradition of choosing a word of the year versus making New Year's resolutions. Resolutions never seemed to make it past the idea stage so I had no problem giving up the useless tradition to forge ahead with another. 


2011 - Focus
       I chose the word focus because it was something I needed to work on, something I was greatly lacking. I chose the word and failed it miserably. I had no plan, no idea how to work with a "word of the year" and ironically, no focus! By the end of 2011 I had to look back at the previous year's blog post to see what my word for the year actually was. I had forgotten. Obviously a complete lack of focus. I found the matter to be quite amusing with no sweat off my back.

2012 - Faith
       There was a huge difference with my word for 2012. Difference number one. The word chose me. I did not choose a word, rather I allowed words to play around in my mind until one took hold. I asked the universe to provide my word and it chose Faith. I had been warned that when a word chooses you (versus you choosing a word), you better hang on. The word means business! Can I just say that I believe that was the understatement of the year?
       This past year was one of the hardest of my life. Trust me. I have had some hard, ugly, difficult times. This past year saw my marriage challenged, my world shaken, loved ones lost, and a health issue that had me scared for my life. I am still working on how to shake fear as it is the state I have lived in my entire life, though most say they wouldn't know it (my mask hides me well). I have cried more tears in this past year than I thought possible to produce in a lifetime.
       Faith started out as something I thought one had, only to discover it is something one does, practices, gains. Faith no longer feels like a noun. I believe it to be more of a verb. People say "Have faith". I always thought my grandmother 'had faith'. Faith is something you work to understand, work to gain and then work to keep. Perhaps once you have done all the work you can 'have' it, but there are still times it is threatened and you must work to keep it. It is shaken and you must stabilize. It is questioned and you must defend.
       I walked into my year feeling strong and cocky. "Hmm... cute little word. Pretty sure I know what it means. Let's question it. Digest it. Play with it."
       Faith said, "Oh no you don't! I chose you! This is my year. I get the lead. I take control. You are simply along for the ride."
       Or so it felt.

       I was talking to my husband about a word for this year. He said, "Don't do it." He was as scared for me as I was. He actually said he thought choosing a word to focus on was similar to worshiping a false God. Interesting. Also not real settling. I thought about what he said and thought it sounded a bit like hooey, but at the same time, I was scared. Scared of what the new year would bring, scared to ask for a word, but it had already happened and I knew it. A word had settled in a few weeks prior. I felt it nudging and whispering and trying to attach itself to me. It felt like a good word, a good fit, yet I could not shake the fear it might possibly carry with it a hidden agenda of hard times and painful lessons.
       The word whispered "trust me, you need me" and that's when it hit me.

       When a word chooses you for a year, it is not the word that brings challenges. Life brings challenges. The word allows for transformation. It allows for growth to occur and wisdom to be gained. When walking with a word, we have something to work with, something to lean on, something to guide us. It shows we are open and willing to learn and transform. It is a way for the Universe to guide us. 
       Faith carried me through this past year. At first I questioned it. When I started to think I knew what it was, it made sure to let me know I had a lot to learn. It challenged me and left me until I realized that I was the one who left. When I questioned it, it gave me something to focus on, to learn from. It allowed me to look at things differently. It held my hand through the difficulty and celebrated the good.
       It has been an extremely hard year. I am thankful I had faith by my side. I plan on continuing to grow with/in faith as I know I have a long way to go. Faith is not a word for a year, it is a word for life.
      
2013 -
       This year, my year is my year. I claim it for myself. The word that has nudged me will be at my side. I am keeping it to myself (at least for now), holding it gently and close to my heart. Once again, it picked me. In all honesty, having a word choose me when I wasn't sure whether I wanted a word this year, makes me a bit leery. It is a good word. One of the best. I choose to step into the new year with positive intention and  gratitude. May the new year choose to greet me with the same. May it choose the same for you.

A few months ago I was blessed with a weekend get-a-way with a few other ladies. One is a forever friend, the other I had never met. I almost chickened out. I ended up staying one night instead of two. It was just right. We stayed up late talking deep and long, sharing stories in front of a wood burning stove. The room pictured below is the one I stayed in at the bed and breakfast. So much introspect and healing and dealing of past has gone on for me this year. It was interesting to me that the room I received was representative of the room I had as a small child. It was rather symbolic of the work I've been doing to make peace with my past.

Dreaming

Cue the music!

I'm dreaming of a White Christmas!

I guess I should have clarified 'light and fluffy' vs. 'wet and sloppy'.

At least our tree is Merry and Bright.

Today is a snow day. The kids had all sorts of play dates planned with the idea of snowmen, snow forts and hot chocolate. 

 The snow came. Then the rain. More snow is scheduled to follow. Right now they would be stuck making slush men, so they are hunkered down with books and crafts. 

Today I am thankful for a warm house, the beautiful snow and the love and safety of my gorgeous children.

Bath

Sliding into warm moisture

body transformed to weightlessness

the magic of imagination begins.

Floating free

mind meanders

feelings of childlike wonder emerge.

Underwater world

sounds muffled yet magnified

toying with memories pulled from afar.

Swoosh swoosh boom boom

sound of the womb

sound of my own heart beating.

Lying, loving

warm and safe

world transformed to water

Time stops

transformation begins

entering a state of tranquility.

Roll over face under

holding breath long and hard

feeling at peace with the world.

Lungs grow tight longing for air

last minute breath

a sigh of relief.

Flip flop

splish splash

safe and serene.

Eyes closed

mind open

wandering near and far.

Study within

learning to live

with what's without.

Time moves

water cools

drain pressure released.

Lie still with waters release

lowering levels tickles my sides

weighted body remains.

Bittersweet release of solitude

as I step out of the tub

and prepare to greet the world once again.

Growing Pains

Looking across my brown, dead, dry, drought stricken lawn, I spotted this beauty basking in the sun.
I dare you to call it a weed! I see a glorious flower! An opportunist! A survivor! Alive!

Growing can be uncomfortable.

Nothing fits quite right.

Intrusive growing pains.

Feeling awkward.

Not sure what to expect.

Emotions all over the map.

Saying goodbye to the old and hello to the new.

Learning to accept the new you while saying goodbye to the old.

I see my children going growing through change all the time.

They are growing up.

It is my job to be there for them.

Support them. Embrace them.

Teach them to accept and love themselves every step of the way.

I now see myself growing through change as well.

Spiritually and mentally.

I am learning it is my job to be there for myself as well.

To accept and love myself every step of the way.

Sometimes it feels awkward, uncomfortable, even hard.

Change is hard. Change is scary.

Sometimes it is absolutely necessary.

As I tear off the old ragged layers and snuggle into the new

I am finding comfort and beauty and happiness.

Lots of growing pains going on at my house.

With each new stretch of growth comes glory.

Fairy-est

Crystal Ball,

Crystal Ball,

Do tell all.

Who's the fairy-est of them all?

Welcome to our fairy garden!

M's Fairy Garden

cupboard

seating for four

shh... I see one now!

welcome!

The boys abandoned the sandbox below the swing set long ago.

After years of trucks and shovels excavating the prime real estate,

Darling Daughter and I thought it was time to develop.

No high rises here! We created a welcoming little neighborhood for flowers, bunnies and fairies! Shh... I think I see one now!

A Bit Lost

If you know my blog, you know I have been MIA finding myself on hiatus for personal reasons.

While I was gone...
~ my heart broke but is now on the mend
~ I feared for my life then found hope that all will be well
~ I almost drown in a river of tears until I finally landed ashore
~ I realized I was blind to much and have since opened my eyes
~ I nearly lost faith only to land deeper in than I ever imagined


I have grown in self and in spirituality.It has been a very personal journey and it has changed me. I have been back for a few weeks now and am eager to jump back into blog mode, yet every time I sit down to the blank page, it feels different. I'm not sure how to approach the page anymore. 


I've sat and pondered, created and deleted, ignored the page, attempted a don't-think-just-do post, all with the end result being trashed instead of published. Today I decided the best route back is the route of honesty. This post might not be my best, it might not even make sense, but it is honest.


Things I have been working on...
affirmations
gratitude
attitude
intention
self-love




I thought the following quote would make a wonderful affirmation. It is supercharged by the addition of one of my children's hands holding a piece of childhood magic gifted by Mother Nature. We call them "blow flowers" in our house.

Photo of my son's hand holding a "blow flower" as we call them.   © Lynn Retzlaff 

Thank you to all who have read my blog in the past and for those of you who are still hanging in there. Your love and support means a lot. Please bare with me while I find my footing. I am hoping to settle back into a comfortable posting routine again real soon.


Love to all.

Being Real

 I have been sitting at the computer for over a half an hour writing and re-writing this post.

Part of me wants to dump a long story on the page.

Part of me wants to hide my struggle.

The part of me that won is the part of me that likes to keep things simple and real.

This is me.

Simple

and

Real

Flaws and all.

 I was standing outside of my vehicle talking to an acquaintance this past weekend.

One of my kids, waiting inside, grabbed my camera and (unbeknownst to me) snapped this shot.

A few days later, I uploaded the weekend photos to my computer. I found this picture.

My hand instantly went to the delete button.

Common practice. I am the one behind the camera. Not the one in the pictures.

I see this picture and I see a dirty window, a wrinkled face, a goofy expression.

I see myself and I judge and criticize and condemn (over and over and over).

I see others and I love and embrace and accept.

Why am I so hard on myself? Why do I find it hard to look at myself?

~ ~ ~

This picture is taken of me as seen through my child's eyes.

This person is who my children unconditionally love.

They don't judge me, criticize me, tear me down.

This is the same person who my friends lift up and love.

What do they see that I don't? 

Perhaps a better question would be, why don't I see what they do?

On the surface I do a fairly good job of self-acceptance (for the most part), flaws and all.

Laugh it off, toughen up, nobody's perfect. Right?

Deep down it's a different story. When I get to the core, I don't let anything go.

I condemn myself and judge myself to the harshest degree.

I have been digging deep lately and have realized that my harshest self-punishment

has been the condemnation of my young self. I was severely mistreated and I blamed myself.

All these years I have held onto the self-hate and loathing.

The sick feeling that it was my fault. That I deserved it. That I was worthless, expendable.

Why was I so weak? Why did I allow it? I blamed myself.

Why has it always been so much easier to accept and forgive others?

Even those who have hurt or betrayed me?

Perhaps because I never saw myself the way I see others. As a person. Someone who matters.

Seeing myself through my child's eyes has created a change in perspective for me.

I am really looking at myself (possibly) for the first time.

My eyes have opened WIDE. I want forgiveness.

I want to learn to forgive myself and ask God to forgive and heal me.

Body, mind, soul.

 

Looking again at my children, I now see the youth in me.

If my children were ever as scared or injured as I was when I was young, would I condemn them?

Judge them? Blame them? Continuously punish them?

Never!

I would love them, hold them, heal them.

If they didn't know how to protect themselves, to fight back, to not be a victim,

would I lay continuous guilt on them?

No! I would empower them and teach them and embrace them.

If their reaction, retaliation and coping mechanisms to the pain were not pretty,

were harmful, were wrong, would I brush them aside and let them continue to destroy themselves?

Again, the answer is no.

I would hold them tight, let them kick, scream and cry.

Let them get all the ugliness out and I would fill the space with love and light.

 Pardon me while I weep.

Lesson learned.

Time for the healing to begin.

Angels

Do you believe in angels?

I do.

Childlike Wonder

There's something about zebras that bring out the childlike wonder in me.

Their stripes are so bold, so exact, so... fake looking!

I've seen horses my whole life and the zebra looks like a horse in striped pajamas.

They appear to be imaginary. They are entirely too amazing to be real.

Zebras were always my favorite zoo animal by far.

When my local zoo took the zebras out, I was heartbroken.

Guess where I found them?

Near a local amusement park wandering the fields free and happy.

(as free as a large fenced field allows)

I was giggling with glee when I took the park's mini-train ride and spotted them grazing.

I could ride that train all day just to get a glimpse of this gorgeous creature.

Staring at them makes me feel like a child again.

They free my sense of wonder.

What frees your sense of wonder?

I challenge you to find something this weekend that wakes your inner child.

Give yourself permission to play!

A piece of fiction

childhood calling

Living in the deepest darkest room of her mind kept the world from intruding. It was safe and it was the chosen spot. Magical thoughts permeated the walls of the room originating from her imagination bringing a kaleidoscope of color which she played with and danced in. Rocking... rocking... back and forth brought comfort and kept the light at bay. Light was the enemy. Sarah did not dare face the light for that's where the voices were. The voices she once loved.

There was a time, a vague memory when the voices felt good. Inviting. Happy. She remembers happiness. Barely.

Then came the darkness. It enveloped her. There was bad. The darkness hid the bad. It hid the good as well but she was willing to sacrifice the good to cover up the evil lurking.

After the darkness, the occasional voice permeated the walls of her room. They had changed.

"Come back to us Sarah. We love you." said the voice who called itself mother.

"What's wrong with her? Why does she act so strange?" said the voice of brother.

Sarah knew that the voices lurked. She felt them trying to penetrate the walls of safety.

But the darkness moved over her like a cloak and she dove deep inside. Deep, deep in her mind where she had control. She found a safe place to rest. The room so deep and dark. Refuge. She has lived there a very long time now. Pulling magic and imagination in. Her own little world safe from the outside. It was lonely at times. It was then that she would turn to face a corner and begin to rock. Movement. Constant. Rocking, rocking, gently swaying. Reliable, secure, safe rocking.

Until one day. A noise. It was a most peculiar noise. Sarah would normally block all noise. The least little bit to make it to her dark place was rejected and expelled back to the life she no longer embraced. This noise was different. It was soft, gentle, angelic in nature. Almost as if it were singing to her soul. She had to strain to hear. She wanted more.

Leaving the dark room she slowly, suspiciously worked her conscious mind back through the path that led to her safe spot. It had been a long time. She wasn't sure if she would find her way. But that noise. That lovely noise.

"Follow the noise" she told herself. "It will lead you back. You must find what is making that beautiful sound. Capture it and bring it back."

She moved her body across the room to the open window. She turned her face toward the light for the first time in years. Glancing through her eyes at the world around her ever so briefly, the first sight she caught was the glistening of the dew on the morning lawn. The water shimmered so close to the beauty from her imaginary world she almost felt safe. Once again she forced herself to see. She looked up. That's when she saw...

I am leaving this piece of writing open for your interpretation. I'm not sure where it came from or why. It seems to be a combination of a memoir I am reading combined with recent happenings in my life all crashing together to form this fictional tidbit. 

The photo does not necessarily represent the story. I took it at the park last evening and fell in love with it. I'm calling it "Childhood Calling". It is unedited, though I may play with it at a later date.