sigh...
if you looked at my "work area" at work right now you'd see papers strewn about as though in disorderly chaos but know this: I know what paper is about what issue and how long it can lie in such state before I can either send it along to that special place where unnecessary papers go:-) OR place it carefully in the RIGHT color folder to be taken out and re-read from time to time. check my desk out, you'll see a grey "stress ball" (funny thing is, I've never used the silly thing), a large cobalt blue bottle of water, water which, by the way, was purchased for the sole glory of the deeply rich color of blue and not for any other reason...a bottle of tea, still warm from the early morning brew, a purple cup for where there is me...there is purple, a handwoven purple basket made lovingly for me by my niece who allows me the pleasure of having named her "pooka moo." Pictures of my brothers and cousins and children and a few pow wow posters of course with the underlying importance of having "stickgame" at the bottom...
do you see the necessary moments of what in some circles are called "pissing matches?" do you see laughter at the latest and greatest "wizard of oz" that tiny man behind the curtain who doesn't realize everyone sees him? can you see the hours of thought that went into that last grant package submitted or the twisted nerve endings that went into finally learning that confrontation is not a bad thing?
and what about my work area at home? ahhhhhh that one! i hope you see the scraps from the quilt made for my newest grand-daughter...and the ribbons trimmed from the shirt i just finished for my oldest son, do you see the jute from the bag i'm weaving for my brother's new laptop? or the medicine bag beaded so carefully by my nephew? look at my work area you should see color thrown about with wild abandon and lovingly chosen for just the right moment; i hope you see stories and songs that make you laugh and stretch the depths of your heart beyond what you knew you could hold...
"Happy New Year" is a phrase bandied about as carelessly as the "God bless you" spoken upon the sudden sneezes of our neighbors...my friend sent me the following quote and upon reflection of the PAST year, I find this is what I hope for you...
“We are strung through our hearts on a wire called time. Nothing can slow or speed our journey from birth to death.
We can kick and scream as the wire of time moves us along, or we can go dancing with joy and gratitude.
In either case, the journey is the same. We choose the quality of our experience on our journey through life.”
