Tiny Toes and Fingers, Part II

Tiny Toes and Fingers

Today I am flying to Iowa to greet our new grandson, due any day now.

I'll be in and out of blogging for a week or two, as time (and my organization) permits.

A photo of cute baby toes and fingers, coming soon. Can't get enough of those little hands and feet, their little coos and burbles (and their not so little squalls and screams). The feeling of that tiny little fist closing snugly around one of my fingers - doesn't get much better than that!

These are our backyard trees, trimmed high to keep the view of the valley below and mountains beyond. My friend calls them asparagus trees.

After two days of rain and wind, the clouds cleared, leaving everything clean and crisp.

Sometimes, the trees seem to take on personalities.

This is a really bad hair day.

This guy developed horns, like friendly Mr. Tumnus

This is the one with the always perfect hair

 Wicked Maleficent's hat

 More silliness:
At dinner, I shared that I read the brain is 85% water.
B: "Does that mean we are all brainwashed?"
J: "If we could put soap in our ears, we'd all have a clean mind."

Unfrozen

Some days I am frozen. Stiff, immobilized, inflexible. Cold, rigid, hard. Numb.

I am not referring to winter weather.

This is a state of mind. Unable to think. Overwhelmed. Afraid to move forward, not willing to turn back. Stuck. Right where I am. Unwilling. A statue, with nothing to say or think.

Picture an ice sculpture on a well laden table at a high-end banquet. The carved ice is there, an elaborate decoration, not really for a purpose. Just there. Some days, that statue is me. No creativity. No imagination. No excitement at the joy of life.

Don't have a photo of a fancy ice sculpture. Will a snowman do?

How to melt my frozen heart and mind?

These are ways I have found to shovel the snow, begin the thaw and conceive  growth.

• Exercise. Some (most!) mornings I do not want to get up early. I know, though, that it always feels worth it after the exercise session. I have to think ahead while I put on my exercise clothes and push play on the DVD. Go through the motions - the motion will create warmth to melt the stiffness.
• Read. My morning Bible and devotional reading (Valley of Vision, now),  sparks life and reminds me of the Lord's love and care. Later in the day, time to read, alternating fiction and non-fiction inspires me, challenges me, offers plenty to think about. 
• Prayer. Reaching outside of my narrow short-sighted world, alert, aware of the needs of others.
• Reach Out. When I would rather hide, connect with others: make a phone call to distant family, write a letter, send an e-mail, play a game with the kids, reach beyond myself, extend a hand to others.
• Organize. I know, this is strange to include in this list. I am learning (a long process), that less stuff is liberating and that empty space breathes life and energy and creativity into my days. I have been dreading a project, cleaning out our floor to ceiling linen closet. I would open the doors, stand there and look, unable to move. Overwhelmed. For weeks. Finally, I took a deep breath, carried armloads to the table, sorted into piles, got rid of at least half of each pile, some much more. The momentum carried me on. Took me about an hour, a task I'd been procrastinating way too long. Motivates me to liberate the next area.
• Music. I miss having a piano and hearing the kids play for hours each day. But, I have CD's downloaded on my computer, a wide variety of styles, depending on the mood. Our son has picked up his mandolin again. I like hearing him pick at the strings, feeling his way through a song.
• Write. Journal, characters, scenes, free-writing, like limbering exercises. Just start, that's the hardest part. Pick up the pen, plink on the keyboard.
• Lighten Up. Laugh, smile, throw a snowball. Don't be so serious. Seriously!

The frozen ground yields to the warm breeze, the sun, dappled through the trees melts away the ice. The hard dirt loosens, allowing growth to spring up, new life to stir and produce. Fresh ideas take root and come alive. Unfrozen.
Are there are other (maybe better) ways you become unfrozen?

Voyage

"O Lord of the oceans,
My little boat sails on a restless sea,
Grant that Jesus may sit at the helm and steer me safely;
Suffer no adverse currents to divert my heavenward course;
Let not my faith be wrecked amid storms and shoals;
Bring me to harbor with flying penants, hull unbreached, cargo unspoiled.
I ask great things,
expect great things,
shall receive great things.
I venture on Thee wholly, fully,
my wind, sunshine, anchor, defence."

                                                                                                 -Valley of Vision

joining others for a quiet Sunday at jumptandem.net

Importance

"I think these difficult times have helped me to understand better than before how infinitely rich and beautiful life is in every way and that so many things that one goes around worrying about are of no importance whatsoever."

                                                                                       - Isak Dinesen

This is quoted in Creative Journal Writing, one of the books I'm reading. I don't know the source, nor have I read Dinesen, but this jabs close to home. All these "many things" that I agonize over getting rid of, vacillate on the decision to eliminate, or hang regrets on their fate - they are of no importance whatsoever.

It's just stuff.

Mild Winter Blooms

We have had a mild winter, even for Southern California. With no frost, our sensitive plants are still blooming, and I think, smelling sweeter than usual. Thought you might enjoy this view from our patio.