STRESS and Finding Grace in Whatsoever Things

My artworkie! :D

STRESS!

is the feeling of being a confused hungry locked guinea pig in a sopping wet cage with no free range time ever! If I could just... juST...JUST literally crumple, rip, and stomp the word itself with as much belching oooomph' of a blow, fug it out to oblivion, oh man, my friend, would I! 

To think that I've been wifey' for 23 years and a mom for 22, wow! Shouldn't I have it all together by now? Calm, collected, wise, comforting, a pole of strength, a river of rushing wisdom, feminine sage, the LIGHT??

Can I please be ALL that, NOW, the purrfect me in my mind? Seriously, I am an overgrown human hissing cat! Right now there is nothing at all remotely "enchanted" about moi' hahaha! Forgive me, but I am and most likely will ALWAYS be a colossal mass of inner hysteria when any one of my boys ( my hubby included :) is sick.

So it is, shucks, whether your child is 1 or 21 it's still the same gut wrenching wearing your heart-out-on your-sleeve ache! You bleeeeed without the ooze of red thick liquid. It is a trauma that leeches out of your every pore, your every follicle, a painful throb out of your every intake and exhale of breathe.You want to butt-head the ill feel, kiss that offending boo-boo away, hover, fuss, take the yolk of suffering unto yourself -- Oh ugh' I am dopey' simpering drama and can't help it. I'm a mommy and I WORRY (yes, even if he is 21 and not 1!).

Thank the gracious God, right now I think he (my son) is getting better; not as much coughing and no fever and he smiled - i know a smile like that. There is still the long tonight to observe -- and tomorrow I'd still insist he take another blood test. It's a bad bout of flu, BUT I want to make sure...like thoroughly clear my aching heart ( and head) sure it's a seasonal flu, period. Hah, and now it is my hubby sniffling and sneezing and all puffed watery eyed...and my eldest asked for a paracetamol...shazam!

So what does one do in a week of gut churning emotions? Clean - maddeningly! Chop down trees ( yes, I did -- they weren't really THAT big). Make a bonfire of the piles of leaves. Battle garden ants. Drink Coke lite ( instead of tea). Make art (somehow) then stop midway, walk here and there with a plastered smile showing spurious tenacity. Plus, do everything else in a half  dazed zombie semblance of one's self  while attending to patient.

I miss my BLISS! I miss smiling and combing my hair! I miss sanity! Thank goodness for fantastic photos like this one (below) I gleamed from Pinterest , It is just amazing! I adooore how colors and books and wine and odd dippity shapes blended together-- this is so my homey' style! The whole story can be found here:

 --> Natalie's Beach Girl Meets Book Nerd Nest

Source: gallery.apartmenttherapy.com via Lady on Pinterest

Of course, all sour days must pass ( a cycle of pain and birth it is)  and life is beautiful the way we make, stir or blend it. Let me meditate on an ancient wisdom I love..." whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things." ~ Philippinas 4:8

So yes, I do. Grateful still that there is grace in every whatsoever little thing.

Liquid Wisdom ♥L❀VE ♥

I believe we are called to the duty of delight. ~ Dorothy Day

 ♥´¯`•.¸¸.• ♥L❀VE ♥´¯`•.¸¸.•   

Tired, tired, tired, tired,  tired! And there is still dinner to take care of. I must, simply and most truly prepare something special tonight as the hubby had been quite giving ( and understanding) about the take in dinners I presented two evenings (or 3? ) in a row. My trusted Lady Help is sick and hasn't been able to come for her regular duties in assisting me with the keep of my home. And with those five days soaked in storm, even that big mess in my eenie' front tree yard had to be dealt with by me and me alone. Exhausted am I. 

But even with this tiredness clinging to my very bones, there is this deep sense of bonding with the walls I feel; like the spirit of my homey' and I just shared a secret day of being only "you and me" together. Everything is more peaceful and cozier.

´¯`•.¸¸.• 

The storm has passed, my help will be in tomorrow, a hot bath is running for me right now, and later still the presence of my husband and sons will fill this home. Not to forget, a late cup of green tea before dinner will be enjoyed. I am blessed.

♥ Listening to the beautiful Chopin Compendium

just being quiet with me

http://midsummerprism.tumblr.com/

You must not ever stop being whimsical, and you must not, ever, give anyone else the responsibility for your life. ~ MaryOliver

 *”Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥¸¸. ,•ღ. ℒℴνℯ •ღ. ℒℴνℯ♥¸.•*”Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥  

Two points. First, to always be whimsical: I can do whimsy. Second, to never give anyone the responsibility for your life. Hmm...poetic profound and so to the face.

It's a Monday afternoon and I am sick. Not as sick as I was yesterday but definitely out of whack. What a shame to start the week weepy, wallowed and wilting -- oh! my! haha! 

No, I will fight this. I cannot give anyone the responsibility for my life. Must must must pull myself up, mend and not pathetically wait for anyone to make me feel better. Yes, even if this bug makes me perceive everything ( even yesterday and tomorrow ) in such a mass of grey clouded disdain, I musn't  drown in morose thoughts but be present to life's prettiness and whatever small event to be thankful for.

Grateful for:
1. Having finally started doing my art (once again). How brave of me.
2. Pretty inspiring sites and started a Tumblr roll of it. Fun!

I will get my groove back once again for sure. Right now there is a mothering of myself needed, I admit. As much as my home is a space of  contentment and I am deeply devoted to family, I feel that a part of me wishes for more solitude. More just being quiet with me.

And this quote by Fitzgerald brought a smile to my sicky blue' day....

"It was only a sunny smile, and little it cost in the giving, but like morning light it scattered the night and made the day worth living."
~ F. Scott Fitzgerald 

Having fun with: Midsummerprism Tumblr
and fun too at Lady Prism Pinterest

Source: wingsforlashes.tumblr.com via Lady on Pinterest

the silver born in you

Dream. So me. I am utterly captivated! I found this photo on Pinterest followed the link and was in transit magically into the whispy world of "Romany Soup" by blessedwildapplegirl. I don't normally use other's photos ( in fact this, I believe is the first time ever) so I scouted for permission and there it was. --> link back. And who wouldn't want to "share" her tapestry of heaven, eh? I see myself here, table and all ( because I have the same table with flowerettes and the tea pot and the greens and  the apples and pears and nestled by a window too) looking out into the street. I found the perfect description for my current moment.
Visit Romany Soup. Prepare for magic.

♥¸.•*”Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥¸¸. ,•ღ. ℒℴνℯ •ღ. ℒℴνℯ♥¸.•*”Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥¸¸. ,•ღ    
" Do not take away the rose,
the lance flower that you pluck,
the water that suddenly 
bursts forth in joy,
the sudden wave,
of silver born in you "
~ Pablo Neruda
♥¸.•*”Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥¸¸. ,•ღ. ℒℴνℯ •ღ. ℒℴνℯ♥¸.•*”Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ♥¸¸. ,•ღ    


This week I will be charmed. There. I declare myself married to poetry and writing and (my ) art. YES,   until my veiny veins morph into tendril baby vines of inspiration and pappy petal buds of pretty creep out my very pores and grow me  into a daisy - or a primrose, whichever, no matter,  it would be  the true juicy flower soul of me  zoetic! A licentious menage a' troit  ( none of the Shelley scandal, haha!) of the most wanton creative kind - if I may say so - for this is who I am.  And is now my life. And will be my sparkling fabulous future. Thus be it. Thus be! Thus be!


It has come to a brazen point where I have to think "par-si-mo-nious-ly" of myself ( i am chilled to say that word -- MYSELF for it feels criminal  and so selfish ) ; to let go and not be so phobic of the future, not so clingy to the present, not be into my ( wee' grown up early 20's) boys' faces - ( to put it mildly, because having young adults in the home, in all honesty is quite a challenge. I hover still. This mommy has to grow up. Sigh). 


The unshackling! I give myself permission to come to me and bless my flair and wit and not be encumbered by "irrelevance" ( circumstance or  person); to nurture mind with beauty and insight, and nourish my soul with the refinement, the elegance of the enchanted present that renders itself before me; like that hazy' waft of misty rain that fell softly and danced before my very eyes painting the tree lined road a sight so zen. i see magic i know. a world behind the curtain of this world i see.  


"burst forth in joy...the sudden wave of 
silver born in you." 


I will.