Reaching for the calmest part of myself...

Making my way home from the Princeton Jumping Horse Show in New Jersey this past weekend, I realize how simple my life has become. Driving on Peppermint Road, which is close to my home, I look at the serene field on my left and feel calm and cradled in such a setting. It gives me what I need each day to heal from the strains of life.

I try to live from the heart of my soul. My spirituality has always been at the center of who I am. On my three acres I can be still and uncomplicated, enabling me to live in clarity and conscious choice.

God's finest whispers fill every bird song I hear and I am thankful for each day. I experience euphoria by living without being limited by the judgment of others. We all have a finite time on this earth, and it is important that I learn to balance the gifts I've been given, and to take responsibility for the space I hold here.

I must challenge myself to do better in each moment, because I have the opportunity each morning to start again. To give of myself in a way that enhances rather than diminishes. What is genuine and what is lasting is who we are. 

Writing workshop for Sal!

Never have I gone to a writer's workshop! But, next month I will expand my world from chemotherapy treatments to writing workshop endeavors. Actually, I'm so excited to work and learn from Susan Richards, author of Saddled, Chosen By a Horse, and Chosen Forever.

It is a five day workshop in upstate New York. I feel honored to be a part of this group of eight, and I know in my heart I will become part of a new family. Hopefully, my blog writing will become clearer to those who read it. And, by the way, for those who do read my blogs, thanks for sticking with me.

As my thoughts of cancer disappear within the work I am given, it will be a healing experience.

How exciting!

Spring Rains...

In my area of Bucks County, PA, we've had fog and rain in the early mornings and late afternoons. It is a beautiful thing to see the rain help the woods come to glory, and the animals singing because they are so happy. Everything is fresh and green. Flowers are peaking toward their summer height and are giving us the gift of color.

I am pleased to be on this planet with all the new and living growth. I ask my spiritual self if I am making the same growth in my life here and now. I pray that I am, and I want to be the example of what it means to accept whatever we given.

Life is good and life is precious. Ask me and I'll share the love with you!

Spring Green...

It is time to lift the boats from their resting place and drop them gently back into their slips. Spring is here in full force, and there are many who anxiously await to climb back into their boats and sail away. Most usually there are winds that come in the spring to fill the sails as many make there way out to the open sea. What joy!

I do not have a boat any longer, but there is nothing like stepping into that Boston Whaler in the middle of spring. Chugging out through the bay and into open water made for a delicious plate of experiences. Now I envision them from memory as I sit in my cabin waiting for my cancer cells to die off, so that I may experience the fun once more. It will happen, I'm sure of that. I wonder what the larger picture is for me as I sit here awaiting the discovery of it.

There will always be a journey in our lives that we do not expect. I know there is something inside this detour that will reveal itself soon and I am ready for it. Finding the joy within will be my most perfect moment, and I can hardly wait!

Enjoy the spring everyone, it is here dressed in green and full of life.

Larger landscapes...

Year before last, during autumn, I stood on top of Cadillac Mountain in Maine. Looking eastward the ocean sparkled as if some ship had just sprinkled a load of diamonds on top of the sea water, and they rode the great waves causing the sun to reflect off them. It is a sight I carry within me at night, as I close my eyes to sleep.

I'm going back there soon, but first I must take a break to clear my system of the cancer that is robbing it of a healthy lifestyle. I long to sit in my cabin and watch the buds form on the cherry trees, while keeping an eye on the fawns and fledglings that newly arrive each day.

All of this is a process, a cycle. We are never sure of the outcome, but we are sure that we are carried on our jouney as part of the larger landscape. The one we rarely get to see.

I feel the quiet of new birth as it enters this world, and feel blessed to be a part of it. For, as I said, there is always something greater that we do not get to view.

As Rumi said, "Out, beyond ideas of wrong-doing and right-doing, there's a field--I'll meet you there."

My cabin holds all of my secrets, and all of my dreams. If you open the door and peek inside watch out! One of these secrets or gems may escape and take you with them. But not to worry, all of them are valuable.

Feeling Blessed...

This is where I go in warm weather when I take a break from working. Sitting there in my woods I gaze at my deer feeding stations, the cutest writing cabin ever, and the blue sky peeking through the tops of the tall oaks.

I long to be sitting there again soon while I rest for a few moments between jobs. Recently I've had a blip on my radar screen with some medical issues, and it helps me understand how shockingly fragile we all are as we walk this planet.

We're blessed each and every day to be given life. And the loved ones that walk alongside us on our path, give us strength.

Hibernation...

February has its ups and downs weather wise. In my mind I see the ocean, sailboats, and lobster traps of a Maine shoreline. Ahhhh, it brings a smile to my face.

Coming back to reality I look outside my cabin window and realize that the animals in my woods have a break so far this year. Each day we're closer to spring and new growth on the underbrush and trees. The deer, turkeys, fox and other animals seem to sense the change that will soon begin. I can tell from the way they nibble at the tips of the brush, checking to see if the new buds have arrived.

It is quiet now, a time to look inside myself for indications of change. What have I learned that I can bring forward? With the few weeks left of winter hibernation I look forward to learning more, understanding more, and being grateful for the gift of life.