Bumps in the Road

Since my "Crossings" post there have been a lot of changes going on.  The older I get the more I realize that change = life, and life = change.  The trick is in learning to roll with the changes and in accepting that they will in fact come.

For most of my life I believed that happiness existed only in the absence of problems.  How does one get a life without problems?  Is there a merchant that carries that?  Certainly in this globally connected world there must be a way to purchase such a thing!  Wait...I'm sure I couldn't afford one if it were available.

I know, I'm jesting...pondering...wishing.  As a small girl longs for a prince, a special dress or a beautiful doll to pretend with.

Sometimes what we long for is right before us, but somehow escapes our notice or our acknowledgement.  I for one, can get so focused on the future and what I want to happen, or think should happen that I completely miss the present.  But the present is all there is and when I think back - back over it all it dawns on me that I've missed a great majority of my "present."  It isn't coming back either.  It has become something else - the past.

Crossings

Those who are close to me know that I am not comfortable crossing bridges.  I don't like them at all!  Even on foot while going for leisurely walk I get butterflies in my stomach going over a bridge.  I have been known however, to pause at the railing of a bridge for an especially gorgeous view, but it's quite a sight I have to admit.  

First I slowly reach both hands out in front of me and when I finally grasp the railing tightly enough I gently lean forward to gaze over the view of what's below - with stomach firmly in throat!  Sometimes I even manage to let go with one hand to snap a photo or two.

The bridge captured in the photo above crosses over the Hudson River in eastern New York state.  I had to travel over it on the way to a wonderful, refreshing weekend in western Massachusetts.  I had my eye on the prize of healing and rejuvenation the weekend promised to provide and not even ten bridges could have kept me away!  

As I drove, and drove and drove some more, higher and higher into the mountains I was struck by the beauty of the area.  I had to slow my pace on the curving, hilly country roads which gave me more time to experience the scenery.  I would later realize that that was just the beginning of my attitude adjustment; there was much more to come.  

For a long time - I'm talking decades - I hadn't been doing a very good job of listening to myself.  My inner voice had been drowned out by all the external voices around me and the din of everyday life.  After awhile I couldn't even recognize it anymore.  I couldn't differentiate it from the others.  Nothing was ever clear, just a blended cornucopia of clanging sounds ever playing in my mind.  

I knew I needed something to help me discover it again.  As it turned out, crossing that bridge to that quiet, mountain retreat helped me to begin picking out my voice again.  I let it take its rightful place of prominence and let the others fade into the background, to be recalled when, and only when, needed.  

I realized that I liked the way it sounded - and the things it says!  It may not be right all the time.  It may not be right for everyone.    But it's mine, and it's right for me.  From now on I'm going to listen to it, and I'm going to trust it.

 

A Mile, or a Hundred, in My Shoes

Although winter in western New York has only recently begun, I am patiently - well maybe not so much, waiting for the bitter cold temperatures to break.  In my decades of residing here in the deep freeze I have found it much more satisfying to delude myself into focusing on the idea that winter is always almost over, rather than focusing on the real deal - that it's going to go on...and on...and on.  In fact I realize that it could continue, in periodic bursts and spurts, right up until the next winter season returns.  Such is life here in the Finger Lakes.

Speaking of the lakes, there is a certain pristine beauty here that keeps most of us die-hard fans here no matter what the weather dishes out, and believe me, she dishes plenty.  There's something about the sensory extravaganza in this unique region that makes me happy to be here, when I pause long enough to experience it.  There is so much color and texture and fragrance at any given moment, and unmatched variety in the landscape.

Today I had the privilege to speak to a wonderful group of people at an assisted living facility about God and faith.  It was a good distance from my home and they had just opened up the roads after a blustery, frigid cold spell had gripped the area again.  My journey was actually self-serving because those accepting, faith-filled residents blessed me more than they'll ever know.  They complemented my outfit, my message and they were quick to extend their hands to welcome me.  All I did was talk, and listen.

No matter what the weather brings, calm and sunny or cold and snowy, opportunity abounds each and every day.  Opportunity to start fresh, to enjoy the moment, and to touch someone's life.