Friday, September 9, 2016.

I swear on Friday I feel like I could make anything funny (yep, maybe that is also why I am single?  I could be the only one who thinks I am … hilarious!)

But that is the magic of Fridays, especially after one in the afternoon.  Did I mention it is my most favorite day of the week?  After Sundays, of course.  And Mondays and Saturdays and Thursdays and Wednesday evenings (mini-Fridays).  Tuesdays are rough.  Yep, I am a joke a minute.  (Now, if that isn’t just an opening for a comeback, it is a whole airstrip! Speaking of which….)

The road now leading to Eve, my home, has grown narrower without being trimmed on its sides.  Not weedy or neglected, the drive after the last neighbor house looks wonderfully unremarkable.  The lumbering from two winters ago and the two passing summers have encouraged branches to grab at new sunning spots within the once crowded woods.  And in the direction of the opening of the road.  Once unleashed that underbrush has now exploded into adolescent trees.  And the road closes into an unremarkable dirt road.

Poesey and I wage our battles, among them a struggle for what she seems to claim as her rightful spot as I type on the laptop. For what must seem like an eternity to her, she rests in the sidetable drawer. A forever, that is, until a possession known only known to a feline, overtakes her.  I finally figured out that her addiction to attacking my feet might be a result of me not playing with her… Hmm.  She is teaching me, this Poesey.

I think this a lot, but truthfully I have never known this life.  I have known storms and conflict.  I have known times of intense loneliness when there should not have been.  I believe in the strength of marriage, probably now more than ever.  Because if it is not mutual, it is not mutual.  The pain of my marriage seems farther and farther away.  And there are days now;  there are weeks now;  there are months now that have gone by without heartwrenching conflict.  I often say to myself I never ever have to fight again in my whole life.  Not like that.  I have nothing to ‘act’;  I have no need for pretense.  I have no mask.  (well, we all do, realistically).

I work on my own definitions of my life, with room for refining those definitions as I go along.  And sometimes, gratefully, I get lost in symbolism and now of late, even the necessity of clutching onto safety of symbols dissipates.  Like the branches of those adolescent trees, stretching – reproducing cells to expand themselves – in all directions, I see the path of my life both stretching and narrowing at the same time.  Both fed with the basic needs to nurture life and….just as important, with the passage of time. Days pass along the path.  Weeks pass.  I turn to look back on where I started, then mentally trace the steps which marked off that time.  Each day has been a lesson.  Each week, an adventure.  Each year, a lifetime.

But I have never known my own peace.

Oh, my house is still a disaster.  And there are gazillions of responsibilities and projects and worries, if I let them be worries.  I view worries as points on today’s list, but on tomorrow’s never-to-repeat list.

I walked today, thinking about three years ago. (If you are sick of the knee story, please kindly skip ahead!)  It is a different light, now, on that chapter of my life.  That part of my path has become a template itself of how to start over.  How does one repair a knee?  How does one face the possibility of not being able to walk, then realizing -again – with the accompaniment of the drumbeat of time and positive ingredients, a person learns of walking, running and dancing.  A person learns the value of building brick by brick, positive atop positive, minute by minute.  But what really sinks into every cell of ones own being, is the value, your value of yourself.  Step by step…..

It is a much different walk, today versus three years ago. It is the navigation of seas very unremarkable, yet more precious to the path than any other part.  I do not recognize this part of the path, but I know it with all my soul.

And once you get to this part of the path, I do believe the most important lesson to be learned is:  “Keep walking.”

………………

Hmm.  Way too intense for a Friday night, especially one so graced with foamy night time clouds outlined like an old-fashioned negative around the surreal glowing of the moon.  I might just have earned the right to say farewell to the honeymoon of my single life.  

Why do I feel the most breathtaking part of the path is just beginning?

May your Friday nights be a little crazy, Saturdays be that of adventure even if it is the discovery of matching socks (personal insight there!) and Sundays… Well, Sundays are just about the best day of the week!

Love, Blessings, Sunshine, Delicate Raindrops, and ……..!

Steph

#passthehoney #crazyfridays #imjustme #thebrickdandelionisalioness #stephaniesbeautifuljourney