a misty paradox

Sunday, August 7, 2016


I have grown quite addicted to my morning ritual, the walk with Wally down the road then around the yard, sipping iced lemon water, half listening to music and half listening to the scolding birds wondering why I hadn’t been awake forty-five minutes sooner.  I stumble around that course twice usually, looking a bit Lebowskian with a favorite blue snowflake bathrobe and sandals that are the equivalent of flip-flops.  Or boots.  (Depends upon the quantity of dew and temperature – I know, I know, hence the term “Dew Point”).

Oddly enough, the only day I missed was Saturday.  It’s a good habit – one that gets me moving and brings a mindset of thankfulness.  Really though?  I am not sure I am that thoughtful so early in the morning.  It just makes me happy in a poetic sort of way.  One morning I could almost pretend I was walking through woods of a distant land, like those pictures of the mossy forests of Ireland.  The morning sunlight was not quite strong enough to burn away the night’s greying of the greenery.  There was no yellowing yet of the leaves awakening. 

Through the grey green trees sauntered a white fog – escaping easily before it too would be clothed in that yellow light of day.  Gorgeous!  (I would have attempted a photograph, but there are mornings in which a person just swallows those delights and secondly, there are those mornings in which I am not quite coordinated enough to manage digital devices!)


The week as a whole was, well, a combination of the most unlikely events.  Sometimes things happen which can only be described as those ‘forks in the road’ type experiences.  I am amazed at how rich life is, from finishing a logo for my business to scooping out the cat litter box;  one without the other just would not be the same.  So too is my little world at home and the life I am discovering for myself.  It is a hilarious combination of sometimes the most frightening and daunting of realities to the grandest fantasies of existence.  I have found I cannot do one without the other!

Today, Sunday, it is unthinkable now to even imagine how exhausted I was during the week.  I drove home, exhaled a tired “Hello,” to the woods, then turned into the under-garage.  I was dumbfounded when, as I watched the patterns of the Jeep headlights on the opening doors, I realized that twenty years ago, when I was planning some of the details of the house, I had imagined it to be a ‘bat-cave’ of sorts.  I wanted my then-husband to be able to drive home after work, leave the world behind as he parked inside the safety of the ‘cave’.

And here I was twenty-some years later.  I had created my own bat-cave!  The memory was bitter sweet but I began to realize, that I could simultaneously feel the tug of my heart at the loss of love, yet grab unto it before it slipped away.  I realized to lose that imagery of a bat cave – with all its colorful pomposity and overboard fantasy and surreal imagery of safety – well, why would I not give that to myself?  Why in the world would I not wish that for myself just as strongly as I had tried to build it to give away to another?


And then….I ordered a dumpster. Because there are things to throw away. Now.  To say enough is enough of ‘things’.  And there is enough of giving away, recycling and selling.  Sometimes, you gotta toss it, Steph.

That has been the week with its own glorious recipe.  Despite the name of my company, I caution myself that walking along this path, this journey, I could either be the wonderful blend, the paradox G-d entrusted in my soul, or a massive hypocrite.  Where does that line exist?  

I guess, like many questions, it all depends.  And is it not for each of us to look inside ourselves for those answers?  Our own heart’s hypocrisy!  I cannot judge another.  I think of my own moments, when I am at a fair for renewable energy driving a vehicle which is not, by any means, fuel-efficient!  So, who am I to judge?

But this?  This, here today, on a Sunday, with hummingbirds and writing and music and emptying the cat litter box and big breakfast and sleep?  Dear Lord, I am lucky.  I am not sure I can even attest to “Blessed” because somehow that sounds like I am ‘holier than thou”.  

Eh. Scratch that.  I am “Blessed”.  Reality.  Fantasy.  Green trees. Sunday.

And a dumpster…..

I love all of it!  

And my wish for all, are lives filled with the adventures of reality and fantasy:  May the worst, most difficult experiences become feather-light enough to float away with the ease of summer breezes;  May the best of both, find harbor in your hearts.



“The Future. ”  From the bricks salvaged from the building’s parapets last summer.  Took me awhile to figure out a good pattern for the posts to the entry.  Three brick lengths and one brick width per side. (sigh). I love this kind of stuff…

#thebrickdandelion #ilovebricks #imjustme #onebrickatatime #onewomanslife #thebeautifuljourney #discovery #myownbatcave


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