Spicy

This week was supposed to be my "change things up" week. Wherein I try to turn all my boring daily routines upside down. Do new stuff. Uproot myself from the dead spot I've been standing in for so long, turning to stone. Add a bit of spice to the bland broth. This pulp magazine illustration is all the spice I could cook up - yes, that's me, Satan's mistress. Ahem. Except in dirty sweats, cheesy hair clip and knee-high boots caked with mud.

I'm declaring it a false start. I couldn't even get past the first couple of hurdles. The rockery (rockerie?) hit some snags and I've been the extra labor the last few days, trying to shove boulders uphill with just my floral garden gloves as tools. After an hour or two in the mornings of attempting to kill myself by hernia or muscle fatigue, I have tried to get all the little work details done in order to be ready for the spring newsletter release to the universe.

Truly, there are so many things to get in place. I didn't get far. I have all weekend to try and get at least a little closer to the goal - mostly update the website. Which means packaging and taking pictures of the products. Erm, and actually making the stuff. How could I forgot that little detail? And there will be stuffing and glueing of envelopes all weekend too. Will my arms hold up? We've got a few of the biggest boulders left for this morning.

A couple more show applications need an extra photo, or an extra piece of biography/description or something written up. I've got them all laid out on the dining room table now, with my big calendar, trying to keep it straight and not lose a piece or double schedule myself somewhere. I had a neat little pile on the desk, but with all the distractions, and stops and starts, the system started to fall apart and I could see disaster ahead. So I hauled it up, spread it all out and am filling in the last few holes. It's going to be a pretty big year, if it all works out.

So the upshot is this: I cannot possibly do it all the way I had originally planned. Life never works that way. But the most important thing is to do the best you can. Adjust to the new realities as quickly as possible and keep moving forward. I think that's the lesson. I found this poem a couple of weeks ago, and it's what I'm hanging onto this morning. For dear life.

Trust

It's like so many other things in life
to which you must say no or yes.
So you take your car to the new mechanic.
Sometimes the best thing to do is trust.

The package left with the disreputable-looking
clerk, the check gulped by the night deposit,
the envelope passed by dozens of strangers—
all show up at their intended destinations.

The theft that could have happened doesn't.
Wind finally gets where it was going
through the snowy trees, and the river, even
when frozen, arrives at the right place.

And sometimes you sense how faithfully your life
is delivered, even though you can't read the address.

-- by Thomas R. Smith, from Waking before Dawn