Through the magic of the Universe I find myself flying back to the United States four days after my originally planned departure. Sufficed to say, I would have rathered a different tactic in getting me to change my date, but seeing as I would not have done it of my own volition, out of the things that could have happened, I'll take this one. Hiking with a friend, my purse was stolen out of the vehicle after the window was smashed. Trying to be prepared for my upcoming flight, I had started carrying my passport with me, so there it went. And there I stayed.
I was able to get a new passport with little to no difficulty, just added expense, and change my flight with the same characteristics. I don't try to understand anymore why things happen how they do, but I do stand stronger in the knowledge that they all happen for a reason and always in my overall best interest. I am grateful to be swept along in their kind currents. Go with the flow, as they say.
I used those extra days to make a peaceful departure from the land I had come to love so deeply. I knew it wouldn't be a good-bye all along. Just a see you later. I was blessed with the gift of a 12 hour intense writing session on Tuesday and the entire time I kept smiling, knowing that this session never would have happened if my passport hadn't been stolen.
I miss my purse, a loving gift from my sister last summer. I miss my wallet, a loving Mother's Day gift from my daughter two years ago. I even lost that wallet for eight months and found it again! Maybe it will come back in the mail! I miss the little swath of fabric my daughter sewed her first button on with her name in marker scrawled across it. Even so, I hope the money in it was able to help someone in need, and I hope the action of it teaches the thieves as much about gratitude as it has me.
I now know this 6 month plus journey in Ireland was the grand beginning for me of so many more journeys just as profound, rewarding and fulfilling. And when I'm finished with it, I'll even have a wonderful story to share with everyone at the end!
I'd like to draw a brilliant spotlight on all those that have contributed to my accomplishing this monumental feat. My soul's gratitude is overflowing and I am here for any and all of you, and will always be in whatever capacity I can give. Thank you for your encouragement, your support, your love, your belief in me and your willingness to believe in a dream. Now go out there and believe in your own, because the world will rise up to meet you and I'll be first in line to shake your hand.
Such love!
cheers
Thursday, July 16, 2015
Monday, July 6, 2015
One Week Left, It's Going to be All Right
I am sitting here staring down my last week right in the face, and it looks a lot like boxes and bits and bobs leftover. How does one accumulate so much over the course of six months?! Oh yeah. Life. And that fact that "one" is actually "three." "Yes," I told my son, "I'm sure there's a way to fit your awesome paper mache castle you made on the last week of school to go back with us! And of course the replica of the WWI trench you made a few months ago. We will definitely have room." (Especially after I go back to the hardware store for more boxes... Nigel is very kind.) It certainly is a different look into your life when you have to pack it all up. Anyone who's moved knows this. Here I thought, yes, if I send my children back with my father and brother on the 30th, I'll have all that time to finish up my research and go to the rest of the places I need to. I've been doing alright in that department (like looking at microfilm reels until my eyes are rolling back up into my head) but I still didn't take into account just how long I was going to take packing the rest of it all. Thank goodness I gave myself the extra time is all I can say!
Now that the children aren't here (I do miss them something fierce, though) I have the evenings and nights to go out. Not in the sense of the word "go out" like party, but just being able to be out of the house after eight or nine. Last night, I went and parked outside Kilmacurragh (the gates were locked at 6pm, I arrived at 7:30) and walked in to have a look around and get a feel for the place during summer evenings. It was lovely. It was a little reminiscent of being there in the winter with so few people around (none last night) and watching twilight drift over the land. Since we are so high on the equator over here, it stays light until almost eleven around this time of the year, and as it was, I wandered in via a route I had never taken and made my way down to the pond where I sat and had a small meal of hummous, crackers, cheese and tomatoes, with a bit of vino to quench my thirst. It was a delightful evening and I imagined if Sophia ever snuck down to the pond at night to try and catch frogs or see some flower that only bloomed at night. There were gorgeous Calla Lillies blooming on the bank in front of me, and since it had rained earlier in the day, everything had a refreshed, crisp clean scent to it. It was heaven.
If I get these last few boxes packed this afternoon, I am going to try and make it for a night hike in Deputy's Pass tonight, so I better get going. I'll be flying back to the States this time next week, and I will be honest in saying that, as much as I am absolutely looking forward to seeing friends and family, I am not all that excited about going back to the country I so easily left behind. So, I'll focus on the people!! Can't wait to see you all!!! Much Love!!
cheers
Now that the children aren't here (I do miss them something fierce, though) I have the evenings and nights to go out. Not in the sense of the word "go out" like party, but just being able to be out of the house after eight or nine. Last night, I went and parked outside Kilmacurragh (the gates were locked at 6pm, I arrived at 7:30) and walked in to have a look around and get a feel for the place during summer evenings. It was lovely. It was a little reminiscent of being there in the winter with so few people around (none last night) and watching twilight drift over the land. Since we are so high on the equator over here, it stays light until almost eleven around this time of the year, and as it was, I wandered in via a route I had never taken and made my way down to the pond where I sat and had a small meal of hummous, crackers, cheese and tomatoes, with a bit of vino to quench my thirst. It was a delightful evening and I imagined if Sophia ever snuck down to the pond at night to try and catch frogs or see some flower that only bloomed at night. There were gorgeous Calla Lillies blooming on the bank in front of me, and since it had rained earlier in the day, everything had a refreshed, crisp clean scent to it. It was heaven.
If I get these last few boxes packed this afternoon, I am going to try and make it for a night hike in Deputy's Pass tonight, so I better get going. I'll be flying back to the States this time next week, and I will be honest in saying that, as much as I am absolutely looking forward to seeing friends and family, I am not all that excited about going back to the country I so easily left behind. So, I'll focus on the people!! Can't wait to see you all!!! Much Love!!
cheers
Monday, June 8, 2015
Latest Novel Synopsis
I notice much has changed in my plot since being here. My post from back in August of last year has some major inaccuracies and I will correct them here. The first major change is the title, which now reads, The Forest Through the Trees. Here is the latest rendition!
We are first introduced to Sophia, an 84-year-old spirited, yet gentle woman, who has lived the majority of her life in the United States, a successful author of many children's stories which have instilled countless young minds with the knowledge they are loved and cherished. Her husband of nearly sixty years has passed away, and she now feels it is time to write the story that has been patiently waiting inside her all that time, respectfully remaining unwritten, according to her late husband's wishes. But as she begins, she quickly realizes this story, though it had recently been aching to be written, was going to take a little further effort on her part to coax out. She knew she had to return to the land of her childhood summers, the years she met and befriended her future husband, and the events leading up to her entire family's exodus from their ancestral estate.
Traveling back to Ireland, she brings with her her granddaughter, who, like so many young people recently finishing college, was a bit adrift and waiting for her life's purpose to pay her a visit. Isabel had always been a source of joy for Sophia, and her international traveling during her senior year made her the perfect candidate of the family to accompany her grandmother on a visit to her homelands.
Returning to find the house in ruin was harder than Sophia imagined, but it was made easier by the care and attention that had obviously been continually paid to the surrounding gardens. While visiting the old estate, they lunch at the new cafe recently opened and meet a keeper of the grounds who surprises Sophia by showing her some old papers found in the basement. Most were ruined over years of damp, but one box in particular seemed to survive just to save itself for Sophia these many years later.
Sophia carefully opens the box to find her old journals and notebooks she had to leave behind. This, she instantly knows, is why she came back. And so she begins her adventure of rediscovering the youth she once was, before all innocence was stripped away and the mystery of family never existed within her comfortable walls of naive ignorance. Not yet knowing what is to become of it all, she begins to write.
We are first introduced to Sophia, an 84-year-old spirited, yet gentle woman, who has lived the majority of her life in the United States, a successful author of many children's stories which have instilled countless young minds with the knowledge they are loved and cherished. Her husband of nearly sixty years has passed away, and she now feels it is time to write the story that has been patiently waiting inside her all that time, respectfully remaining unwritten, according to her late husband's wishes. But as she begins, she quickly realizes this story, though it had recently been aching to be written, was going to take a little further effort on her part to coax out. She knew she had to return to the land of her childhood summers, the years she met and befriended her future husband, and the events leading up to her entire family's exodus from their ancestral estate.
Traveling back to Ireland, she brings with her her granddaughter, who, like so many young people recently finishing college, was a bit adrift and waiting for her life's purpose to pay her a visit. Isabel had always been a source of joy for Sophia, and her international traveling during her senior year made her the perfect candidate of the family to accompany her grandmother on a visit to her homelands.
Returning to find the house in ruin was harder than Sophia imagined, but it was made easier by the care and attention that had obviously been continually paid to the surrounding gardens. While visiting the old estate, they lunch at the new cafe recently opened and meet a keeper of the grounds who surprises Sophia by showing her some old papers found in the basement. Most were ruined over years of damp, but one box in particular seemed to survive just to save itself for Sophia these many years later.
Sophia carefully opens the box to find her old journals and notebooks she had to leave behind. This, she instantly knows, is why she came back. And so she begins her adventure of rediscovering the youth she once was, before all innocence was stripped away and the mystery of family never existed within her comfortable walls of naive ignorance. Not yet knowing what is to become of it all, she begins to write.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
Setting Sail into the Last Month
One month left. Even knowing this time would come hasn't made it any easier in it arriving. Regrets lurk in the shadows waiting to pounce as soon as my spirits waver, falter in trying to keep themselves abreast in the tumultuous waves of my soul they ride upon. My spirits are strong. Courageous even. They have brought me this far and they will continue to carry me on, but they are still rooted, right now at least, in my very human existence. And it is here that the shadows are cast and regret and doubt stake their claim.
A pressure sits heavy on my chest this morning. Like a cruel cat, tail switching with every ticking second that lapses, counting down the time until I am boarding a plane back to the states and this experience is over. Could I ever have done enough to satiate this feline ferocity dominating my sacral chakra? Do I even have the power to tell it to leave? How can I banish something I cannot see, only feel with such a sinister weight?
I can remind myself of a dear friend who helped alleviate some of the pressure many many months ago, before I stepped into this grand adventure. I can remember what she told me and how it felt. I can remember to spring right on up and over the wall, with one great beat of my wings. But most importantly I can remember who was there to show me my wings.
I will be scared I did this all wrong, that I could have done it better, that I should have done more of this or less of that. But I will remind myself that I can coexist with this fear, acknowledge it but not let it overtake my days. Not let it steal these remaining few days, a fact that lends to its strength of dominance in my soul, from the well deserving vessel of my spirit cascading ahead in the ocean of my soul. Fears, regrets or doubts may rock the bow, but they will never capsize this beautiful sleek little ship, forged from years of rough waters and hurricanes raging across the seascape of my soul.
So it is on to calmer waters in this last month of this first trip. It is on to continued discoveries of the depths and intricacies of Sophia's story. And it is on to continual thanks and praise for the Magic of this great world that can make all things possible, if we just dare to set sail.
A pressure sits heavy on my chest this morning. Like a cruel cat, tail switching with every ticking second that lapses, counting down the time until I am boarding a plane back to the states and this experience is over. Could I ever have done enough to satiate this feline ferocity dominating my sacral chakra? Do I even have the power to tell it to leave? How can I banish something I cannot see, only feel with such a sinister weight?
I can remind myself of a dear friend who helped alleviate some of the pressure many many months ago, before I stepped into this grand adventure. I can remember what she told me and how it felt. I can remember to spring right on up and over the wall, with one great beat of my wings. But most importantly I can remember who was there to show me my wings.
I will be scared I did this all wrong, that I could have done it better, that I should have done more of this or less of that. But I will remind myself that I can coexist with this fear, acknowledge it but not let it overtake my days. Not let it steal these remaining few days, a fact that lends to its strength of dominance in my soul, from the well deserving vessel of my spirit cascading ahead in the ocean of my soul. Fears, regrets or doubts may rock the bow, but they will never capsize this beautiful sleek little ship, forged from years of rough waters and hurricanes raging across the seascape of my soul.
So it is on to calmer waters in this last month of this first trip. It is on to continued discoveries of the depths and intricacies of Sophia's story. And it is on to continual thanks and praise for the Magic of this great world that can make all things possible, if we just dare to set sail.
Sunday, May 3, 2015
The Coffee The Chocolate
So, I've been writing. Yeah, I've been writing the whole time. But until recently, everything I wrote felt like little (or big) pieces of a puzzle, snippits (though lengthy) of the same story, but not often with a beginning-to-ending momentum or intention. And not on the computer either. It was all handwritten in notebooks. I don't know what has changed recently, but something has. I have turned into a bit of a writing machine on the computer, and my fuel is coffee and chocolate. I'm not kidding. I'll sit here and stare off, thinking, and then go in and get a square of chocolate off the microwave and lo and behold my fingers are flying again as it slowly melts in my mouth. And don't even think of expecting one key stroke in the morning if my coffee hasn't been brewed. (I would like to take this moment to thank the goddesses at Grab-A-Java for knowing what to send with the goddess who sent me a care package last month. I don't use the term goddesses lightly, you are awesome!) And I've stopped putting sugar in my coffee! Huh?!? Maybe it's the great cream here, or all the extra sugar I'm getting from chocolate, ha! But all joking aside (momentarily), the layout of the story has morphed and grown along an intentioned and meaningful path. I'm loving this! And it feels so right.
I will be the first to admit, however, the healthy eating habits I developed from being over here, like eating more than twice a day, have started to suffer, but what else am I supposed to do? When you have the story flowing through you, you don't stop.
So, now with this drive, there is a battle within me waged between A) the side that's like, 'you can write back in the States, but you can't do the same research back there', and B) the side that's like, 'Write, bitch!' in that cute way someone who loves you very much can call you bitch and actually cheer you up by doing it.
But I know what I'll do. I'll continue to straddle the line of that battle field, because I think they're both right. It'll all work out for the best and it's kinda like a win-win because when I'm out researching, I can make sure and stop for a quick bite places, trying to maintain, um, eating, and when I'm writing, I get coffee and chocolate!
Today, my son and I took the time to hike along the Avonmore River, the river I believe I can base part of the story on. I recorded some of the sounds of the water rushing by and got quite a few pictures. He is often an inspiration for me in my writing, or just a soundboard while I think out loud. I bet he's only listening half the time but that's okay. He'll chime in at the perfect place and say something really great and then go back to what I assume he had been thinking about before he happened to tune into my words for a minute or two. Like today, he even inadvertently pinned down the new title (I think), and of course, the first thing he says, smiling widely at me, is 'I want credit for it.' Lol He's such a strong thinker and an interested, caring person.
And my daughter has started her first typed story. It is almost one page long so far, and I am so proud of her wanting to write out all these wonderful ideas she comes up with! And on the computer no less! Granted, it keeps me off of the computer, but that just means I still have time to do those useful things around the house a mom gets to do, like cook and laundry and clean. I might be living on coffee and chocolate, but they still expect, ya know, food. I suppose it should be assumed anyway that I don't get quite as much done on the weekends with them here, but I wouldn't want it any other way.
...And there's always headphones. "Bye kids, mommy can't hear you right now" ;)
cheers
I will be the first to admit, however, the healthy eating habits I developed from being over here, like eating more than twice a day, have started to suffer, but what else am I supposed to do? When you have the story flowing through you, you don't stop.
So, now with this drive, there is a battle within me waged between A) the side that's like, 'you can write back in the States, but you can't do the same research back there', and B) the side that's like, 'Write, bitch!' in that cute way someone who loves you very much can call you bitch and actually cheer you up by doing it.
But I know what I'll do. I'll continue to straddle the line of that battle field, because I think they're both right. It'll all work out for the best and it's kinda like a win-win because when I'm out researching, I can make sure and stop for a quick bite places, trying to maintain, um, eating, and when I'm writing, I get coffee and chocolate!
Today, my son and I took the time to hike along the Avonmore River, the river I believe I can base part of the story on. I recorded some of the sounds of the water rushing by and got quite a few pictures. He is often an inspiration for me in my writing, or just a soundboard while I think out loud. I bet he's only listening half the time but that's okay. He'll chime in at the perfect place and say something really great and then go back to what I assume he had been thinking about before he happened to tune into my words for a minute or two. Like today, he even inadvertently pinned down the new title (I think), and of course, the first thing he says, smiling widely at me, is 'I want credit for it.' Lol He's such a strong thinker and an interested, caring person.
And my daughter has started her first typed story. It is almost one page long so far, and I am so proud of her wanting to write out all these wonderful ideas she comes up with! And on the computer no less! Granted, it keeps me off of the computer, but that just means I still have time to do those useful things around the house a mom gets to do, like cook and laundry and clean. I might be living on coffee and chocolate, but they still expect, ya know, food. I suppose it should be assumed anyway that I don't get quite as much done on the weekends with them here, but I wouldn't want it any other way.
...And there's always headphones. "Bye kids, mommy can't hear you right now" ;)
cheers
Thursday, April 23, 2015
The Process The Progress
As I spoke with one of my dearest friends on skype last night, I was telling her about the new revelations I have come to in working on the book. As I was telling her, it dawned on me that this would be a great place to jot them down as well, since this is the place I created to follow and archive, if you will, my process and progress.
I have realized that during the first few months I was here, I spent my time following the whim of my explorers soul, seeking out and excitedly discovering new places while fairly successfully fending off the guilt monster who wanted to ambush me at any weakness of conviction for "not working." I somehow maintained my conviction that I was not always going to understand the process, but I would keep my focus on trusting my instincts and listening to that little voice of intuition that somehow always guides me right. And in doing so, I shockingly did not visit a library for the first month and a half at least, always telling myself not to worry about it and that I was following the way I felt and still very much moving forward in my research process.
With the departure of my first visitor in the end of March, the guilt monster snuck in while I was distracted and wreaked havoc on my poor soul for a few confidence-shattering, courage-ravaging self-esteem-destroying days, and after the dust had settled and I remembered it was essentially only me responsible for the thoughts I was thinking, I picked myself back up and found after all the havoc had been wreaked, I was standing in entirely new terrain. And not only new terrain, but with a wholly new perspective as well. I am humbled and brought to tears by this process I have been allowed to witness unfolding before my own amazed eyes and heart, and I have charged right into this new terrain, complete with brand new vantage points and discoveries to be made.
I now feel I am on to the second chapter of my research over here. The books. The archives. The gracious librarians. The vast ocean of knowledge and information recorded before me and for me to traverse in my little sailboat of a novel plot. I told myself I wanted to sail in a sailboat over here more than anything, and I suppose I could count this as that voyage.
And the most revolutionary part of this is, without having allowed myself to entertain and honor my explorers soul, who I was able to recognize as needing to have a look around first, I would have no map for this incredible voyage across such an expanse of information. I now, in myself, have reference points. When I am reading about places, I know those places. When I am reading about the people of this country, I understand them on a far deeper level than I ever could have hoped, had I not spent time with them. The kind people of the wonderful towns in County Wicklow, eager to help and more than accommodating to sit and have a chat, have helped me to this end.
I have unwittingly given myself the tools I needed to extract the most from the research I am now compiling, and I could not have dreamed of planning it better had I tried. Which I didn't really, and maybe that's why. Maybe that's why I felt so safe in not having things planned to a "T", and when I would start to hem myself in by scheduling things out too far in advance, it sometimes created an apprehension, an unease, in me. It would come from the intention behind my scheduling. When my intent was me wanting something to happen, it felt good to have it scheduled, still knowing the plans could change at any moment. But when I scheduled things because I felt like I wasn't getting enough done, so I had better hurry up and schedule something, anything! (guilt monster) I would be left feeling panicky and not sure if I had done the right thing and wondering if I scheduled it wrong, or any number of uncomfortable feelings, not always easily recognizable at the time.
When I let myself be drawn forward by following the lighted path of my guidance (sometimes lit so dimly I have to stop and wait), still always attentive to my world and being a willing participant in its activities, I know I am travelling along a path that will take me to where my dreams are real. Where this book is complete and honors those whose story it tells. I do feel like finishing this book will be a bit of a quest for me, but not in a scary way, in an exciting way. With not thinking, will I ever get it done, but instead thinking, I am so excited that this will be finished one day!
Thank you for these insights. Thank you for this awareness. Thank you for these human traits I am blessed to manifest. And thank you for the divine spirit that manifests itself in me (is me).
cheers
I have realized that during the first few months I was here, I spent my time following the whim of my explorers soul, seeking out and excitedly discovering new places while fairly successfully fending off the guilt monster who wanted to ambush me at any weakness of conviction for "not working." I somehow maintained my conviction that I was not always going to understand the process, but I would keep my focus on trusting my instincts and listening to that little voice of intuition that somehow always guides me right. And in doing so, I shockingly did not visit a library for the first month and a half at least, always telling myself not to worry about it and that I was following the way I felt and still very much moving forward in my research process.
With the departure of my first visitor in the end of March, the guilt monster snuck in while I was distracted and wreaked havoc on my poor soul for a few confidence-shattering, courage-ravaging self-esteem-destroying days, and after the dust had settled and I remembered it was essentially only me responsible for the thoughts I was thinking, I picked myself back up and found after all the havoc had been wreaked, I was standing in entirely new terrain. And not only new terrain, but with a wholly new perspective as well. I am humbled and brought to tears by this process I have been allowed to witness unfolding before my own amazed eyes and heart, and I have charged right into this new terrain, complete with brand new vantage points and discoveries to be made.
I now feel I am on to the second chapter of my research over here. The books. The archives. The gracious librarians. The vast ocean of knowledge and information recorded before me and for me to traverse in my little sailboat of a novel plot. I told myself I wanted to sail in a sailboat over here more than anything, and I suppose I could count this as that voyage.
And the most revolutionary part of this is, without having allowed myself to entertain and honor my explorers soul, who I was able to recognize as needing to have a look around first, I would have no map for this incredible voyage across such an expanse of information. I now, in myself, have reference points. When I am reading about places, I know those places. When I am reading about the people of this country, I understand them on a far deeper level than I ever could have hoped, had I not spent time with them. The kind people of the wonderful towns in County Wicklow, eager to help and more than accommodating to sit and have a chat, have helped me to this end.
I have unwittingly given myself the tools I needed to extract the most from the research I am now compiling, and I could not have dreamed of planning it better had I tried. Which I didn't really, and maybe that's why. Maybe that's why I felt so safe in not having things planned to a "T", and when I would start to hem myself in by scheduling things out too far in advance, it sometimes created an apprehension, an unease, in me. It would come from the intention behind my scheduling. When my intent was me wanting something to happen, it felt good to have it scheduled, still knowing the plans could change at any moment. But when I scheduled things because I felt like I wasn't getting enough done, so I had better hurry up and schedule something, anything! (guilt monster) I would be left feeling panicky and not sure if I had done the right thing and wondering if I scheduled it wrong, or any number of uncomfortable feelings, not always easily recognizable at the time.
When I let myself be drawn forward by following the lighted path of my guidance (sometimes lit so dimly I have to stop and wait), still always attentive to my world and being a willing participant in its activities, I know I am travelling along a path that will take me to where my dreams are real. Where this book is complete and honors those whose story it tells. I do feel like finishing this book will be a bit of a quest for me, but not in a scary way, in an exciting way. With not thinking, will I ever get it done, but instead thinking, I am so excited that this will be finished one day!
Thank you for these insights. Thank you for this awareness. Thank you for these human traits I am blessed to manifest. And thank you for the divine spirit that manifests itself in me (is me).
cheers
Monday, April 20, 2015
The Quest
As life settles back into a fairly normal routine again of school for the kids and research ventures for me, the feeling of serenity has slipped back into my heart. Sometimes the things we most want are the very things that can seem the most daunting and I experienced that in a wholly new degree of late. The level of which I experienced the doubts that came to me can possibly be explained by the level of which these accomplishments I am working to attain exist. In short, the higher the expectations and goals, the higher the intensity of doubts and fear.
I remain proud of myself for keeping on in the forward direction, even though there have been times I have wated to pack it all up and call it quits. I know the detriment of halting an unfinished task based on fear of the outcome. And I have always tried to live a life without regrets.
While my daughter was away at a slumber party, my son and I watched the Lord of the Rings trilogy (after her slumber party turned into a whole weekend affair) and I was brought to tears more than once over the wise words of those on that remarkable quest. Granted, I am not carrying a ring that has the undead following me to take it and return it to their evil sorcerer master, having to traverse through treacherous terrain while being hunted by any number of creatures, with the fate of the all that is good in the world resting in my hands. But I think that no matter how big or small your task is, no matter who you are or what you have gone through, you can exponentially benefit from hearing encouraging words and being reminded that there is always hope, no matter how small, of success on any endeavor you put your heart into.
And so I must remind myself, my heart is in this quest. And there is a hope of success. And whether I am daunted or not, I will continue moving forward in it, taking small steps when I am too fearful to take any at all, and leaping over vast valleys and flying over tops of unbelievably high walls when I feel the strength of courage burning deep in my soul, carrying me along. Thank you for my strength.
cheers
I remain proud of myself for keeping on in the forward direction, even though there have been times I have wated to pack it all up and call it quits. I know the detriment of halting an unfinished task based on fear of the outcome. And I have always tried to live a life without regrets.
While my daughter was away at a slumber party, my son and I watched the Lord of the Rings trilogy (after her slumber party turned into a whole weekend affair) and I was brought to tears more than once over the wise words of those on that remarkable quest. Granted, I am not carrying a ring that has the undead following me to take it and return it to their evil sorcerer master, having to traverse through treacherous terrain while being hunted by any number of creatures, with the fate of the all that is good in the world resting in my hands. But I think that no matter how big or small your task is, no matter who you are or what you have gone through, you can exponentially benefit from hearing encouraging words and being reminded that there is always hope, no matter how small, of success on any endeavor you put your heart into.
And so I must remind myself, my heart is in this quest. And there is a hope of success. And whether I am daunted or not, I will continue moving forward in it, taking small steps when I am too fearful to take any at all, and leaping over vast valleys and flying over tops of unbelievably high walls when I feel the strength of courage burning deep in my soul, carrying me along. Thank you for my strength.
cheers
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