I am sitting on my front deck, with my glass of wine, very much like the other late afternoon/early evening, when the pictures that will be shared here were taken.
My mind meanders when I sit out here with my wine and I have decided to take you along on some of that meandering, if you wish to join me.
I was thinking about passion, and how in my youth passion was so readily and easily inflamed. Passion for causes, passion for people, emotional passion which would take me to fits of weeping, joy, loving . . . youthful passion. I have questioned how much passion I have left in my later years, but have concluded it is still there. It is just changed. My passion now? Well, still for some causes, although I spend much less energy on those now than I did many years ago. I still have passion for my friends, for my family (incuding my furry family members), but my emotions have mellowed considerably. Anger comes rarely, because anger is energy-consuming and changes nothing. I am more tolerant, and I have learned to control my tongue. Mostly. A bit better. Things still pop out sometimes, things that might be better left unsaid. At least at that moment, in that company. But that’s okay too. My greatest passion now? Life. Just waking up for another day, just having the best health I can expect to have at my age.
I think about what I am, who I am. I am, first of all, a person. A human being. An individual. I am a partner to my husband, a mother and a friend to my children, a friend to my friends (although I think I could be more generous than I am), a keeper of my furry girls. I have needs – the need to share with people I care about, the need to matter albeit not on a huge scale anymore, the need to express myself creatively. That need leads to taking photos, to blogging, to knitting, to making jewelry. To sharing me. With some reservations, of course.
There have been changes in “me” over the years, some over recent years. Home is very important to me, probably because my growing up years did not provide much stability. My father was in construction, an asbestos worker, and we moved to where there was work. Frequently, we moved. Some years I would attend four schools, some years more, as many as eight. We lived in several states – whether it was 38 or 35 states, I do not recall – one was states, one was schools attended. I believe that not having roots growing up made roots very important as I grew older. But now, in this past year or so, I would love to travel a bit. One or two nice trips a year, one of which should be to the coast because I need my coastal ocean fix once a year at least.
And then I think I need more words. Your blogs, your photos, bring out comments from me that say things like “wonderful, lovely, beautiful, amazing, great shots”, but my goodness! How frequently can one use those same words? Somehow, “charming” seems stilted, although it is what I think now and then. I need more happy words to describe what I see and feel when I read your blogs, when I see your photos.
With all of this, it is to be said that my life is good. Despite those parts of it that are not what we would wish for, it is good. I have had many good years, some difficult years, all of them learning years. I would make husband well now if I could, but I cannot. We must accept life as it is handed us in some instances – our control is limited. But always, always, we can appreciate what we have. We can wish, we can dream, but ultimately, we must deal with what is and go forward.
Forward I go, with enough, and I wish for you the same.