Are you listening?

 I'm thrilled to welcome this guest post written by my granddaughter, Sadie.

I wonder.  What if my garden could speak?  If the petals on my roses ruffled with laughter when I told a joke.  Or if the vines that usually clung to trees, slid up my arm swiftly for an affection squeeze. Would my plants reach out to me to complain about the blistering sun or the drought of nutrients in their soil?  I know that if my garden could speak I would sustain its every need. Changing the soil at even a single sunflower's whim and helping the tomatoes tie themselves to the fence to feel rooted.  But would others do the same? If their garden could voice their desires, would they even listen?

Would my vines embrace me with an affection squeeze?

 

Someone brought this garden to life, or at least, they planted the seeds and sometimes despite rough conditions a flower will bloom brightly, a sign of hope.  Yet, ignored and neglected they may never reach their full beautiful potential.  Someone's little sprout is repeatedly trampled upon, unwatered and cast to the shadows where no sunlight can reach them.  Wilting and wanting, only discouragement grows.  If only the tender blossom could have known to call out.  To stand tall on their stem and scream, pleading for the help they deserve.

But plants never did learn to speak.  And many gardeners never learned to listen, their charges are left uncared for and the sad results repeat.  They dry up, fold over, and wilt into the ground from whence they once came.

I beg of you, those who are responsible for tender shoots and delicate blossoms, to  teach your garden their ABC's.  In the hope that when they are about to wilt they feel they can speak to you of their pain, how much it hurts to die from the inside.  Then the world will be filled with the nature it should have.  We will all be connected, all loved and seen for the who we are and what we need to thrive.

Thank you for stopping by My Turquoise Kettle Life today.

May you stand tall and be heard today,

Sadie

Shadows Along the Way

 

I've walked this path before, the one well worn. I know the feel of the crushed leaves, the bulging roots, the slippery wet rocks.  I am familiar with its scents and secrets, its beauty but also its hazards.  I've travelled this familiar trail so often that recently when I began my descent I was surprised to find myself unsure of my footing, slipping, loosing ground like a novice not the well worn traveler that I believed myself to be.  Was I tired? Was I looking at the path in a different light?  I felt uneasy I didn't trust the path or myself.

The next day in a clearing of space and time I sat and reflected.  I pondered and wondered. I came to see that I had allowed the long dark shadows that fell across the trail to disorient me, to dredge up old beliefs to throw old stories ahead of my feet to trip me up and create doubts.  

With time and patience I allowed the light of truth to fall across each shadow and slowly they evaporated.  I was able to see very clearly my own abilities and worthiness again. There is so much beauty and goodness on each of our paths, however, we are never beyond the reach of old shadows that whisper our unworthiness, that cast doubt and whose boney fingers grip our heart with fear.   

When that happens try getting still and remembering your light or if you cannot muster that, sit in the presence of a true friend one who can remind you of your light and your goodness, one who banishes the dark because they reflect your light back to you with gentleness and love.

Thank you for visiting My Turquoise Kettle Life today,

Blessings for the path,

Sandra

Do You Believe in Magic?

 Have you ever arrived somewhere and had a sense that you had crossed an invisible threshold into a place with an energy that was so beyond explanation that when you tried to describe it later, all you could say was, "It felt magical"? 

I hadn't either until this past summer.  My favourite niece and her husband purchased several acres of land on which sits a hundred year old cedar shake clad home with a slate roof. There's a barn and a pond and acres of forest and nature.  None of that is particularly unusual although it is picturesque and beautiful.  But there's something more going on here that even after several visits I cannot quite identify. Each time I leave, I find myself longing to return to bask in the presence of something I cannot name.  It's a pull that not just I, but others feel too; a gentle calling that whispers and beckons.  

I doubt I will ever understand what is at play here but how lovely to know that there are places in our natural world that feel blissfully, restoratively supernatural.

Thank you for visiting My Turquoise Kettle Life today,

May you find a corner of bliss in your world today,

Sandra

Winter Indulgences

 

As the year winds down, the December days are long on dreary and short on light. 

 I am not someone who gets excited at the first snowfall or who anticipates long winter walks followed up by hot chocolate.  Its a beautiful image but just give me warmth and comfort through till Spring.

To that end I have been surrounding myself with the items that help me to get through the season.

 luxury sheets and a heavenly duvet

small kindnesses

bedside reading to comfort and inspire

wooly socks - naturally!

steaming cups of tea

my favourite dark chocolate

These little indulgences will not negate chilly dog walks, scraping ice off the windshield, cold fingers, icy walkways and layers and layers of clothing but they will make my winter more comfortable.  Can you keep a few items tucked away for the coldest, darkest days of winter?

Thank you for stopping by My Turquoise Kettle life today.  May you indulge yourself with a few luxuries this season.

Warm wishes,

Sandra

Life's Storms

 

Listless and tired I boil the kettle yet again and hold the steaming mug between my hands and stare outside.  The December wind protests loudly, sweeping the snow off the roof into eddies that vanish as quickly as they appeared.  It is easy to get swept along with the winds, whipped this way and that.

 I'm sensitive to getting swept away, realizing this about myself I do not own a television, or listen to the news, or engage more than I have to with negative, emotionally exhausting people.  This has taken me decades to accept about myself.  During this globally challenging season, more than ever I try to be aware and respectful of my needs and hold to my healthy habits and boundaries.

Sometimes the world is overwhelming 

 

 I look around and wonder if anyone else
feels the same way I do

 

Sometimes I just want to hide away

and close my eyes and dream instead.  
There's nothing wrong with dreaming.

Once I'm rested I can accept that
even in life's challenges there is a certain beauty to be
found and a particular wisdom
that comes with having weathered life's storms.

May you be comforted and find strength to weather any storms you may be experiencing.  

Thank you for stopping by My Turquoise Kettle Life today.

Wishing you a day of gentle strength,

Sandra

 

Loss

 This past August we lost my dad to cancer.  His ever present, ever helping, always smiling, loving presence slowly dwindled away to nothing and was gone.  And while he assured me that he was ready to leave this life and was sure of his destination into the next realm, it has been difficult to process, difficult to fill in the gaping void his death has left. 

Wounded butterfly 

 

For us left behind, we attempt to pick up the pieces,  hobble together the care he so lovingly lavished on our mother, while helping her to understand and adjust to her new reality.  I am deeply thankful to have my sister, daughters and niece and others to walk this path with, without them I would have been swallowed up completely.

 I am not sure if I have grieved since his death or perhaps I grieved prior to that day, with what is referred to as anticipatory grief.  Certainly the saddest moments for me were seeing him struggle to remain independent.  He was patient and optimistic up to his last day, always more concerned about others than himself, not wanting to ever be a burden.  I sometimes think that because he lived life so selflessly I was relieved for him to be free of his suffering, free of the worry about his loved ones that sometimes consumed him, free from watching my mother, the focus and devotion of his life, age and begin to fail.  

I miss my father immensely but there is a certain unexpected comfort to be had in knowing that he is truly free.  

Thank you for stopping in at My Turquoise Kettle Life today.

Tell those whom you love how much you cherish them,

Sandra 

Jumping off the Page

Journal writing has been a part of my morning routine for decades, I love everything about it and when I miss out on it, its akin to discovering there will not be tea this morning, or that I miscalculated how much dark chocolate I thought was in the pantry.  Journaling  is part of my wellness practice.

Over the past few months I had noticed that I didn't love my handwriting as much as I had, what was going on?  So I wrote in a "stream of consciousness" style this morning, which if you are not familiar with it simply means you write without editing or forethought or a plan, you empty your thoughts quickly onto the page before your ego has a chance to try to script them. Here is an excerpt from this morning's journal practice.

Fascinating, I was wondering, I was concerned that recently my handwriting was jagged and a little disconnected.  But no, that wasn't it at all, I didn't know that  my writing, my self expression needed to be allowed to expand, to extend beyond the confines of the lines.  My words wanted to inhale and expand and exhale and to breathe more freely.  So today's stream of consciousness writing is an experiment to wonder and allow.  Where does my expressed word want to move to?  How much space on the page do I desire to fill with ink and thought? How large does my writing want to be?
When I tried to restrict the size of my writing over these past few months (read: restrict myself, my truth, my essence) it became unbalanced, jagged, nothing flowed.  I hardly recognized it and the more I felt disturbed by the unfamiliar writing showing up in my journal, the more I tried to slowly and deliberately form the letters to try to recapture the beautiful penmanship I had once loved.  The more I forced, the uglier the letters became.  It was as though my mind and my hand refused to cooperate.  
But here today I see that when I allow myself space and freedom, my writing takes on a larger, swirling, delicate dance, it is creative, it is organic and it is beautiful and new.  The ink flows freely and carries my thoughts on a divine thread onto the page.  I am fascinated and I am curious. 

I have let these thoughts simmer throughout the day.  In the same way that my inner world has recently been expanding with new ideas, studies and fresh insight I think it makes perfect sense that this would show up in my penmanship.  Where I once lived neatly between the margins on the ruled page, I am no longer satisfied with squeezing myself into those expectations and routines which feel small, worn out and confining.  I will give myself the freedom to examine what I have been reluctant to let go of and ask myself "Is it time?  What and who bring me joy?  What drains and depletes?"  I'm not suggesting all the mundane and unpleasantness of  life can be flushed, there are lessons in everything, but if I can remove the confines I place on myself around certain situations....ahhh now I can breathe, move and take up a bit more space on the page of my own life.

Thank you for stopping by My Turquoise Kettle Life today.

May you be free,

Sandra