Friday, November 30, 2012



So here we are on the last day of November. All month, I have been doing a photo project with a friend, taking a shot of something I am thankful for with my phone, and today, I will shoot my last. Feels weird, kind of, as finishing a project always does. Maybe that is because, deep down, I am not a finisher after all. I am a beginner.

I am always full of ideas, and thoughts and things I want to do. And really I do a lot of that stuff, I think. I have few regrets, and feel like I regularly "cross out" things on my mental "to do" list, as well as my life "to do list," but for some reason I would not characterize myself as a finisher. I am not necessarily the girl you call if you need something to get done. I am not the worker. I am the dreamer, though, and really, in my opinion, that is not saying nothing.

I mean, I am in good company. John Lennon said it, "You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one."

I look at the world with hope and promise and joy. It is something I know, about me, and something that becomes more apparent to me when I do a day by day kind of project. I struggle with it, not grasping for something to be grateful for, but trying to pinpoint what to choose. I am thankful for the big things, naturally, as we all are, but I am also deeply thankful for the simple blessings of my life.

Tonight, we are off to date night, my hubby and I are. The theater even!!! I can hardly wait! Of course it is simply Gwynn's Drama Club "One Act Plays" presentation. To some that would seem an obligation. Even Gwynn said, as Tim and I were "playing up" our outing to the theeeeaaater, "Ummm, guys, remember you are just watching middle schoolers. You do that all the time." Yeah, she has a point, we do, that is true, at work AND at home.

I am a beginner. I have been trusted to raise two amazing children. Watching beginners, fellow dreamers, who are beginning in life. The combination is powerful. It is probably what I am the most thankful for in life. The family Tim and I have created. It truly is the "Greatest Show on Earth."

So thank you November, for your theme, for your project, and let the thankfulness of November usher in the complete and utter JOY of December.

Sunday, November 11, 2012

Oh the complete and utter joy of a daily project. I am working on another one, thanks to Instagram, or as my brother calls it, Facebook for people who can't read, and also thanks to my dear friend Denise. It is just one of those projects everyone is doing these days, to be mindful, to show gratitude. This one is posting a November thankfulness image a day, to a common page, and it is amazing the consciousness it brings to life, for me at least. I am seeing so many things I am thankful for each day, that at times it is hard to choose. I am seeing the simple beautiful. Posting about my life helps me feel unique, but also paints for me a true understanding of the commonalities we all share in our individuality. I can literally see, when my photo uploads, how very much the same our individual stories are. The fact is that we are all just walking our own path, and living our own life, alone, but in conscious reflection, and through shared images, collectively, we are one.

Nothing new just new people doing it.

You're just like everybody else.

Through daily reflection, phrases that have haunted me my whole life, are starting to make sense. There IS nothing new, but what we experience, we experience as an individual and it becomes our own. We ARE all just like everyone else, and that can help us to see and know that whatever we are living through will be weathered, will be endured, will be survived. Joys are universal. Beauty is everywhere, every moment, every day. Love exists and is experienced, by everyone, in so many different and varied ways. Could I be so bold as to say that at 41 I am starting to understand humanity? That through looking at the day to day, I am starting to understand Life?

My obsession with the day to day project is also nothing new. Truly, I can even trace a great deal of it back to my childhood and to my second grade teacher Mrs. LaShire Singer. At the end of the school year, she sent us on our way with our report cards, and also with freshly dittoed calendars of July and August, hand written with activities for us to do each day. I have the calendars up in my attic, somewhere. I recall that she was headed to Europe that summer, and had marked the days of her journey on the calendar for us to share. I remember reading the notes on those days, "Mrs. LaShire is leaving on a jet plane," etc, and just thinking off and dreaming. What would it be like to go on a plane, to go to a foreign country, to GO? Her life inspired mine, even if it was only in my imagination. I wonder if she even knew.

As an adult I have always loved a fresh page, a planner, a journal, a count, down or up. My favorite holidays, Christmas, and then, New Years. Advent calendars, Page a Days, love 'em both. They feed my addiction. They support my need. A need to chronicle? A need to remember? Remembrance, paired with a need to know? Whatever it is, it is there. It is deep.

My obsession has reawakened in a lot of ways the past few years, as middle age has presented itself. Really, though, the renewed interest began in 2008, with my favorite Christmas gift. It was a book, sent to me, out of the blue, by another dear friend, Tarja. It was called A Year of Mornings, 3191 Miles Apart. It was a book of images, pictures of obscure things, of events, of everyday life, taken each morning, by two women living on opposite sides of the continent, then blogged to a website. The site gained a following, they made a book, and my friend saw it and thought of me. A friend that has always understood me, a friend that I don't see often, who I only hear from now and again, but still, she knows me. She knew years ago my need to be creative, and inspired me to believe in myself. In 2008 she inspired me again, 20 years into friendship, and 4055 miles apart.

Today, I continue my November project on Instagram, and blog about it here. I know some people won't get it, as I step into my shower with my phone, to capture a peek at a home improvement that has caused much strife, but also which, now, causes me to say "Ahhhhhh..." with cascades of warm water each and every morning. I shop the book that started it all into my amazon cart, ready to send it on to someone else I hold dear. Today I reflect on reflection. Today I am thankful, for reflection, for unique lives, for the universality of the human spirit,

for LIFE.