A Little Bear Repair

Last year my 85 year old mom gave my grandson Eli a very old teddy bear that she had been given years earlier.  Apparently the bear is quite old, he has a fully articulated head and limbs but no label that would give us a clue as to his history.  He was in decent condition with the exception of the pads of his paws, the fabric on them had disintegrated and with the slightest touch would rub away.

I rubbed off the fragile brown fabric and on a sunny afternoon in the comfort of my bed, I set to replacing it with some fuzzy cream fabric that I found. 

gentle stitching under the watchful eye of Pepper the kitten.

Nearly as good as new

Sometimes when we are feeling worn and frayed, the gentle touch of a friend can help to set us right again.  Remember to reach out to those who may be feeling isolated or alone today. 

Thank you for stopping by My Turquoise Kettle Life today,

May you be well,
Sandra

These February Blahs

Its still early morning as I sit at my desk writing.  I've meditated, prayed, drank my share of tea and dropped off my grandchildren at school. Life is good, and yet... lately I've had that nagging, blah, mid-February sense that something is off.  Yes but what? And why can't I put a label on it and just fix it?

In this office where I pray and write I'm "wintering" my geraniums.  I'm a total novice at keeping plants over the winter but I read up a bit on the how-to's and figured I had nothing to lose and a few colourful plants to gain if I had any success.

So far I've managed to keep them alive.  This room is gloriously sunny in the afternoons (winter willing) and I water them weekly.

What I noticed this morning is that while they appear to be thriving, they are not without their own winter struggles.

See how she reaches toward the light?  All her energy seemingly poured into one stem that strains toward the warm and life-giving sun. 

Closer to her roots some of her stems and leaves are dried, withered and brown.  This is where I began to relate to Madame Geranium.  This is exactly how I'm feeling: surviving, reaching out and maintaining those good and healthy practices that keep me well; enough sleep, good food, good friends, my morning practices (yoga, prayer etc) but the hidden inner workings are a little dry and crumpled, dull, tired, blah. 

Its reassuring to remember that life is seasonal.  I look at nature and remember that this is a season of slowing down a little, allowing the rest and pockets of "hibernation" that winter calls for.
I cannot necessarily be in "full bloom" 12 months of the year.  Its ok to miss the warmth, the sun, the long days, its ok to feel a little blah and not panic, there's nothing wrong with me*.  Its just February.  I will continue to practice self-care and nurturing, I will continue to reach out to those whom I love, we will comfort and encourage one another.  Eventually the days will be longer, the huge banks of snow will melt into the sewers, the earth will smell pungent and with any luck Madame Geranium may even bloom again.

Thank you for stopping by My Turquoise Kettle Life today.

May you be warmed right down to your roots today,

Sandra

* please know that in some instances winter blahs may be a more serious condition that requires the help of health care professionals.  If you suspect that you are suffering from a deeper form of anxiety and/or depression, reach out today to someone you trust to discuss your concerns.

Redeemable

I spend a lot of time on my knees.

 Yes, I am a woman who prays (on my knees) but my retail job also involves a lot of bending, climbing up and down ladders, kneeling to cut lengths of carpet runners and crawling under shelving to retrieve products that have toppled over the back side of the displays.
Its not glamorous but it does keep me active and flexible.

The work means that my clothing gets put to the test.  Recently my favourite jeans developed a hole on the knee.  Hmmm... annoying, do I  get rid of them?  I debated cutting them into shorts, using the scraps for some future project or maybe salvaging them by way of getting a bit creative.  I decided to redeem them, to embroider a flower and some leaves over the tear.  I liked the results and continued the vines, flowers, eventually little hearts up the leg of the jeans.

I'm happy with the results.  I'm also reminded that when I have personally felt worn out and torn apart by some circumstance which is beyond my control, over extending myself or at times the result of my own lack of wisdom;  God never sees me as a lost cause.  He knows my limits, when I come unraveled and when I want to give up.  But He never puts me in the throw away pile.  He comes along, picks me up and gently stitches my life circumstances together one more time... in the process creating something unique and beautiful.  We are all always redeemable... no matter what.

I hope that you sense how much you are cherished and how worthy you are of being loved regardless of whether your life seems to be intact today or tattered, tired and unraveling.  Seek out the support of those who love you unconditionally, who are gentle and supportive, pray, or feel free to  connect with me in the comments section.

Thank you for stopping by my turquoise kettle life today,
Wishing you a day of love and support

Sandra

T'was a Night before Christmas ... in the ER

Eli-Alexandre age 6

As Christmas approaches and my list of errands and chores grows longer and available time seems to melt away faster than butter in the microwave, it can be difficult to find the essence of this season of  "glad tidings and great joy". Even though I've edited my celebrations I still slog through long line ups and busy parking lots focusing on the end result -  what will hopefully be a beautiful, delicious and meaningful gathering for my family on December 25th.

It was sobering therefore to find myself this week accompanying my sister through the  labyrinth that is the medical emergency services at our local hospital.  She had dislocated her shoulder and waited many long painful hours before the situation was corrected.

While hospital waits are notoriously long, what does not take long in the ER is to remember what really matters.  Families gathered around gurneys worried about their loved ones.  Parents cradling little ones who are struggling to breath through congested lungs, The elderly, unaccompanied, alone and scared and calling out to every person that passes them in the corridor for help.

There was one situation that brought me to tears; ambulance attendants running in with an unconscious young man whose face was covered in blood.  Soon after, doctors and nurses were racing this patient into the shock room.  Then came the police officers, huddled in the corner discussing the young patient.  But the heartbreak was the family, his mom head down leaning against the corridor wall while his dad, shocked and confused stared off at nothing in particular;  were those his brother and sister openly weeping?  Hours and hours later I saw the family emerging from a private room, somewhat disoriented, adrift in a world that suddenly seemed to make much less sense. My chest physically ached for this unknown family.  I prayed for them but the burden remained.

The following morning my sister saw the orthopedic surgeon just to make sure all was in order. This was the same doctor who treated our mother earlier this year for a broken wrist. We thanked him again for the care he had given our mom, he asked after her and said quite solemnly, "What matters most is family.".

I don't have much to add to that.  May you embrace and appreciate those whom you love today and every day.  If you are blessed enough to share some time with those close to you this season, give them a big squeeze and remind them just how much they truly mean to you.

Thank you for making time to visit My Turquoise Kettle Life,
Wishing you a wonderful Christmas,

Sandra

How to cope with overwhelm

Sooner or later we are likely to be overwhelmed with that feeling that life is dealing us more than we can currently process or handle.  Like my little poodle in the photo, the path before us may seem daunting and we're leashed at the bottom of a steep upward climb.  Overwhelm might also be described as fear, fear of what lies ahead, fear that we are not capable, fear of loss or pain, fear of failure, or fear of disappointing others.

I have a quote pinned up in my office, ""Fear Not" is the response to fear, not a shaming of it.  It's an invitation to courage."
I've taken a lot of comfort in those words over the past 12 months, I find the concept very soothing - my circumstances might have me feeling helpless and overwhelmed but the idea that I can use my situation to help me develop into a more courageous woman, well, that puts a different spin on things. It becomes an opportunity to practice being stronger and more courageous (practice being the key word).

"... Be strong and courageous.  Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.
Joshua 1:9

I am not by nature courageous or strong, in the past I have suffered from debilitating anxiety.  I have come to realize though that no amount of fretting on my part has ever changed ANYTHING.  What I have found that works is soothing my racing mind and prayer.

To sooth my overactive mind, I will do one or more of the following: write out my thoughts in a journal, call my sister (my voice of reason and logic), listen to soothing music, do a bit of yoga, take a walk, cuddle my dog, have a good long cry (to relieve tension), do something nice for someone else, drink tea and get enough sleep.  I also recall  the times in the past that God has carried me through trials in amazing ways, I thank Him and ask for His guidance and help yet again.

I hope you are not feeling discouraged or overwhelmed today but if you are take heart, you are not alone, reach out to those whom you trust and love and know you are stronger and more courageous than you might feel or believe.

Thank you for stopping by My Turquoise Kettle Life,

Wishing you peace of mind,

Sandra

Beauty and Chaos

I've been working on an embroidery project recently.  The floss has become a tangled heap that I pick and tug at as I work the  pattern.  Pinterest seems aware of this chaos and regularly sends me helpful suggestions on how to neatly organize embroidery floss.

A beautiful mess
My Turquoise Kettle Life

But neatly arranged spindles of floss soldiers are not what I want right now.  There is something beautiful about this colourful and chaotic knot of thread, something unpredictable.  As I pull and remove threads, turning and tugging I am impressed with the kaleidoscope effect - one slight movement forever changing the landscape in the viewfinder.

Could there be a lesson in this tangled mess?   I generally lean toward simple, organized, predictable... I find reassurance in those places.  But life isn't predictable or simple (even when I try to keep it organized).
Maybe the truth is that even in the unknown, ever changing tangled chaos that life sometimes presents, there is a rich, beautiful mess and  that all I need to do is appreciate the beauty and welcome what I see in my viewfinder today.

Thank you for stopping by My Turquoise Kettle Life today.

Wishing you a most colourful day,

Sandra

I'm Home

In so many ways I think that I've always been searching for home.  As a little girl I would often imagine that my bedroom closet, which was narrow and very deep, was my home.  Behind the row of hanging dresses and blouses I created a cozy, secluded nest for myself where I could draw and dream.  One of my favourite things to draw where cross-sections of ant homes with their narrow tunnels leading to an ant kitchen, bedroom and playroom.  I could visualize how safe and secure an ant might be tucked away underground in her little refuge.

As I outgrew the limited space of my closet, my bedroom became my haven.  My mother gave me the freedom to decorate as I chose, allowing me to choose paint and wallpaper.  I went through a phase where I Mod-Podged newspaper onto all the accessories of my room and another where I painted a full wall mural of a tree and a hippie (I know, I know!!).

I loved the security of my room.  Behind the closed door.  I could relax, I could think, I could sit and listen to the crackly songs from a tiny grey transistor radio.  As a teenager I could take my inevitably cranky self away from the concerned faces of my parents and be miserable and vent onto the few lines offered in a fabric covered lockable diary.

I wonder now if I was drawn to study interior design less as creative expression and more as a longing to create a home. Forty years later I think, yes, that was always it.  I've longed for the safety, security, freedom and relaxation of being truly home.  And I've wanted to help others find it too.

A quiet corner for crochet

 I've been married, married with children, single with children, married with children and other people's children and now I live alone.  In every case I've longed to create a home, a refuge for myself and my family.  I've painted and fixed up and sewn curtains and chosen furnishings.

 But I'm realizing more and more that while I craved a refuge from the world I also craved a refuge from those I lived with.  I need a lot of solitude to offset the effects of being surrounded by others, even those I love.  A few years ago I wrote a post about work."leaving the work place".  Now I realize it was never work itself that was the issue, it was that working meant I lacked solitude, I was surrounded at work and at home, there was simply no possible way to have enough time alone. I felt trapped and not working afforded me a way to be alone while my family left for the day.

This explains, I think, my near giddiness on mornings like this one when I wake up and notice the gauzy bedroom curtains lifting and falling against the morning breeze, how the predawn lightness fills my room and turns the wooden wardrobe a honey-yellow, how even the outdated blush-pink tiles of my 1963 bathroom are absolutely beautiful and perfect.  It helps me to understand why I am moved to tears, yes, actual tears with gratitude for this house, this brick and mortar building has been my home for nearly 25 years.  But at a deeper level I'm moved to tears with gratitude for this life, this single life, a life that is beautiful and (mostly) feels balanced with a mix of working and socializing and then the sheer delight of coming home to the hushed solitude, a cool refreshing oasis from the world.  A place where I am relaxed.  A place where I can be still and know, know that God has me and that I finally have a soft place to fall in a sometimes harsh and overwhelming world.

Thank you for visiting My Turquoise Kettle Life today.

I hope that you too find your home,

Sandra