Making My Splash

    My daughter Amy and I visit over morning coffee often. This is transient and we both know it. We treasure it. She told me this morning that in reading blogs of other girls her age she tends to compare and judge herself unfairly to have a boring life sometimes.But then, "I am making my little splashes in life, too."
  

What is your life? James 4:14 says this: Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.

            So I worry about writing. I write every day: in my journal, work lists, shopping lists, a note to a child, Facebook comments, texts to my man, or a post for Stonehousescribblings.  I worry that this is not my real, valid, forever style of writing … not the published kind that will reflect the true purpose of the writing part of my life. When the snail-mail, circular, writer’s group packet comes around I will not be ready with my own contribution. And that is truly worrisome.

            I have tricked myself into believing that my true writing is out there in the future when I finally have time and space and quiet to write for real.  I am not sure what I think is going to change, honestly. Why do I have these delusions? Why do I believe that someday I am going to know how to sit all day in a perfect writer’s atmosphere of quiet with woodsy breezes wafting over my desk? I will write real stories and real books? Really? Why then, if not now?

            I concluded, I do not want to live my life as if true purpose and meaning is still in the future after our ship comes in, or after we are retired.  I want to live with purpose and meaning now. Whatever I write is important and real, today, and it has purpose. Whatever I live has true meaning and purpose, today.

            So when the writer’s packet comes around I will print out a blogpost for my submission; because that is my real writing today and I know that this writing needs to be critiqued, too. I have so much to learn with the writing that I do now. It is as important as any of my writing will ever be. It fulfills the criteria of proper journaling and of sharing convictions for whoever wants to know that about me later.  What more can I ask? My stuff is valid now at my own ordinary level. Who did I think I was?

            Remember this:my real life is now. I must believe that my life will not have more purpose and meaning in some future circumstance or opportunity ...  Not any more purpose and meaning than it has now.

           

   
   

 April at Northwood Outdoor is spent unpacking new stock. We get to reset the store, stage new stock into freshly arranged "rooms", and this year enter all of the new inventory on a computer managed system of taking stock of our inventory. It's fun to see what new things our store managers have gathered up the during the winter buyer's shows. 
   Yesterday we unpacked an order of silk trees and potted flowers. Liz said that it will add a certain flair to our store. Yes.
   The messy picture below is the reality of getting new and exciting orders. But everyone hurried and we got this swept away and the goods tucked in before it began to rain. 
   Speaking of purpose and meaning in life. I'm realizing that the worky, messy parts are real life, too. The work and preparation for the showing part of life is just as important as is the dance itself. Making it happy. It all counts.

  

 One of my own little splashes in life that make me happy. Someday I want to get this framed. Elv and I found her on her nest while canoeing one day. She didn't run when we sidled up close to get her picture. How soon can we go canoeing?

 Here's my most favoritest person in my real life today. As I've said before, I have not yet spent enough time with him. 
I'm looking forward to a weekend up north with him soon. Especially since he has been working two hours from home with no phone reception for three weeks. 
   He has a whole other world for his life in this cab.  Logs, AC, audio books, food, soda, his thoughts, and more trees always.

Right now our real life involves long days of separate work worlds. 
   Purpose and meaning in our marriage is something we still work on. We both had notions that it would certainly get easier to relate and understand one another after 30 years of marriage. In some ways, it is easier. We know what each other eats and wears and enjoys and reads. And his music is different from mine. Sometimes I think his whole world view is different from mine and I resent that. But then what's the point of living with one's clone? Someone isn't needed then, was Ruth Graham's thought. 
I asked my mom about some of these things. Why are our differences even more apparent than ever? She said that what you need at fifty for your marriage is acceptance.  
    I guess that at last after 35 years I have to accept that he is always going to enjoy Johnny Cash's music even though it drives me crazy.  And he must accept my likes and dislikes, too.
    We have to realize that each our splashes in life are important today and we need to enjoy each other's views. It's not going to seamlessly happen some sweet day in the future when we get to spend all day together if we haven't figured out how to share and enjoy the story we're living right now.