More than two weeks without blogging. This is the longest I’ve ever not posted since I started il bel far niente over two years ago.
It wasn’t intentional. I kind of don’t know how it happened.
Except that I kinda do.
For one thing, I moved into my new office–a quick decision but a good one. This meant all new decor and furniture and moving and organizing, in addition to the usual crazy swamped workload.
There was a weekend completely devoted to organizing our financial records and preparing the information for our tax accountant. Scouring my sloppy records for critical deductions, trying to not berate myself for my lack of attention to this task year-round.
There was the weekend of hosting Jeremy’s brother and his wife and 19-month old, visiting from Toronto. So fun, and a big relief from all of the demands and productivity.
And then there was the Open House for my new office, which 70 people attended last Monday evening. It was fantastic and exciting, but phew! What a whirlwind!
Along with the physical move, I decided it was time to refocus my business. I created a new brand and am conceptualizing a new way of working with clients as their life and business curator.
I went away with Anna and Jen for two days to work on my growing business’ financial model.
And I am beginning the process of transitioning to share leadership of the Magic Wand Collective with our new Leadership Board.
So, lots of changes.
Of course there’s also everything going on inside my heart. As usual, it has been riding the teeter totter of pain and joy that accompanies a life of loving many people.
I celebrated my friend David’s recovery from surgery; a surgery that removed a benign but very problematic brain tumor from crowding his pituitary gland.
Dylan learned about meteorologists and continues to read with the fervor of a 7-year-old discovering chapter books.
Jesse’s high school, Washburn–underdogs many would say–came within a point of winning the State HS Basketball Championship at Target Center. Oh the disappointment of being so close yet losing in the end! Oh the joy of having an experience like this to remember as a ninth grader!
Within the last week, my beautiful friend Persis has been diagnosed with a horrible, aggressive brain cancer. Her Caring Bridge site is here. As Family Programs Director for Ronald McDonald House, Persis is no stranger to the ups and downs of the cancer experience. Yet, this is a seesaw of a unique kind. Because it is hers.
We received a call from a beloved old friend, who shared with us that her husband had died suddenly of a heart attack at the age of 40 and two months. My heart aches that I won’t see Rafael’s joyful smile or hear his broken English again. Rina described the see saw of grieving her loss, yet rejoicing in what she and her children had learned from life with Rafael. They are trying to begin again.
Yesterday, my parents called from the road. It’s nearly the one-year anniversary of my Grandma Sylvia’s passing. They are on their way to visit both of my grandmothers’ graves in Kansas and to connect with my mother’s newly-discovered family. Ups and downs, all along the way.
My friend Candy launched her play, Expiration Date, which I’ve not yet seen, but which examines issues related to end-of-life decisions. I am in awe of her courage and vulnerability, wondering how she is maintaining the energy to perform this very personal piece day after day. What is breaking open in people because of her artistic expression, I wonder? Will I have the courage to go before the show comes to a close?
I have been all action, with nearly no pause for reflection. I still have a few weeks to focus primarily on the tactical.
To connect with my own homeostasis, it will soon be time to switch the seesaw back. This intention has a firm date and event attached to it: An April 20th retreat with Anna Dvorak’s nutritious food, lake and woods, and dear friends to nurture me. Followed soon thereafter by the arrival of May and gardening season, which affords me space and time for communion with nature and God.
So, I am noticing it all swirling around and within me. And I’m wondering how it will all feel in a few weeks when I have the opportunity to face and process it. All of this newness combined with goodbyes…isn’t it all a reminder of our mortality? This is the hard, hard work of life.
The sunshine is out and perhaps we will finally get the gorgeous day the meteorologists (thanks, Dylan!) have promised us. I think we will go for a little walk and see what we find.
The Lenten Rose in my garden has started to bloom, right on time–a reminder that no matter the ups and downs of the seesaw, somehow things always come back at some point to where they should be.
There is loss in the cycle of our seasons, but there is comfort in it too.