prayers to perseverance

Sometimes the best we can do is whisper a prayer and hold on.
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I need to hear it. The arguing-the jabs of sibling rivalry-the commanding claims of big brother superiority. Oh, I need to hear it.
But for now, this quiet. Peaceful at times, in some manifestations. Currently-deeply resonating and achingly absent.
My blessing's in discord: I need to hear it. Bring on the noisome brawling dear Lord. Give me my peace. ____________________________________________________________________

Hope springs eternal. Where God closes one door...
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My self leveling state of being, of living, has had the plug pulled and spills haphazardly around the ticking of my minutes. Patch work has been performed and holds, provisionally, fast. A new life level is needed. A new 'normal' defined. A new 'trish is....'
The absence that in its infant days was a 24 carat gold wrapped gift full of discovery and wonder has become a burdensome anxiety and need. The tender pain of life changes is compiling much too quickly in this all at once of my summer. Minutely controlled breaths, exhaling, inhaling, from my first waking moment through to my final nightly sigh hold the patch fast.
Definitively clinging to 'To Dos' and walking with my faith forward. Facing the quiet, the compiling, the sometimes hollow anguish, with regulated resolve. Plundering forward until it all makes sense. Stepping where the road leads until the light illuminates. 200 ft Lord God. Keep my walking. in love. trish
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Sometimes miracles occur only when you jump.

zen quiet

I am painting now a days. Lots and lots of painting. With wax, with tar, with plaster, with oil, with glue, with fire. Painting. All this painting is being punctuated by regular dusting, organizing, scrubbing, pulling baby beets from my 4'x10' garden plot and mowing my lawn of similar dimensions. Yet mostly painting and painting and painting. Just as I desired my days to enfold this summer: To fall gently into the peace of not being beckoned to fill a belly or find clean socks. After the first day of stabbing anxiety at the emptiness in this change to alone, I have found the zen that has been suggested exists in the acceptance of quiet.

Waking at 4am to plug in the palette, organize the papers, listen to the bird chirp and sip the coffee. Eating lunch over an arrangement of carving tools and watching the sun set while hitting firing up the propane torch. Doing, seeing, acting, feeling, being-just as I want. Just as I need. Just as I feel. Selfish. Entirely, self indulgently selfish. Yet, accepting this and simply moving with it is giving me so much learning, so much feeling, so much accepting and so much love. Recognizing the value in alone; and the deep necessary value of every rich, difficult, blessed, challenging bit of life. in love. trish