It was something I could believe in back when I didn’t know enough to believe in myself–when I didn’t know that I am, in fact, that woman (as so many of us are) who found it within herself to recreate a life, one with meaning and purpose, by herself and for herself.
So to all of us I wish for a letting go of what no longer serves and an embrace of the unexpected, whether it seems good or bad in the moment. And I’ll take it one further: here’s to shingles, the gift I thought I didn’t want, the bit of real life that brought me back to who I am.
On this Christmas Eve, during a holiday season that can bring all sentiments to the fore, may we be gentle with each other and with ourselves. My particular Christmas wish is for an acceptance of our humanness, for our own flaws and mistakes, our missteps and misjudgments.
This brings out my inner hunter-gatherer in such a wonderful way. It’s like rock-hounding, looking for the prizes I want to drag home with me. There is something truly beautiful about this wondrous bounty of nature. As an artist I respond to it so much so that I will never grow tired of gathering and stacking it.
The bread turns into a kind of tender cake that sits in the midst of a creamy custard, while the apples and raisins somehow mix all through the whole dish offering sweet little surprises here and there. And the layer of bread on top turns into a crunchy, sweet crust that is making me weak in the knees just thinking about it.
And of course it is moments like these, all knitted together in one fine tapestry, that make me unspeakably grateful to be living this artful life, on this priceless land, in this remarkably rich part of the world.
As I came home from a second walk with the dogs yesterday, it was as though I was walking into the sunset. First the shadows grew long and the landscape was washed with burnt sienna…