Long time... No write...

     I hate that it's been such a long time since I've posted a new entry. I just haven't been myself these days. I even had an unexplainable (at the time) bout of depression the other day. I literally felt myself slipping into this very bad place in my mind. I felt all dark and gloomy inside -- which is completely unfamiliar territory for me normally speaking. I was luckily alone a lot that day, so no one had to feel the kookiness of my mood, but still, it was strange.

   A day or so later, the arrival of my monthly buddy sort of explained things, and put it all in perspective.  So now, I'm back on track with my mood, but I'm still oddly uninspired. It makes me a bit sad to find myself in this state, but I guess I should just consider it a part of a normal ebb and flow of life. Some days, you are on it, while other days, you just kind of wish you were. 

   All in all, I still think there is so much to be excited about and so much in my life to make me feel completely filled with thanks. I guess I just need to accept this down-time with as much awareness as possible, and do my best to learn more about all the sides of Sonja Bentley Zant. (Gosh, I hope this experience won't prove to be like Sybil or The Many Faces of Eve!!)

I am the Butterfly Maiden

    Several nights ago, I had the wonderful opportunity to be with a group of women who formed their very own goddess group. It was amazing to sit with these women -- who were all new to me except one -- and discover that we could all share and connect so easily. I think we were created to be nurtured by one another as women, and that night, that was just what I needed!

   Part of the time together involved drawing a goddess card. I have to confess, when I first got the stack, I held it face-side-up and the card on top was the one I really wanted. It said something about success, and with all the things going on in my life right now with my novel, it was my first reaction to snag that sentiment and hold on to it and make it my own! But I was able to restrain myself because I decided it would be more interesting to find out what card I was supposed to get. So I flipped the deck over, face-down, shuffled it a bit and then drew out my card. It was a gorgeous card with a tall, thin woman with flowing black hair, surrounded by butterflies. She was called the Butterfly Maiden and what she stood for was transformation.

   As I held the card and studied it for a bit, there was of course the obvious fit that my life is about to change with my book and all the opportunities lining up for me. But when I really tried to drop in and consider what I could learn from the idea of transformation in my life, it dawned on me that after a four days of working on my family, maybe this was the signal of transformation for all of us, not just me! 

   As I stated in a previous entry, my ideas about blending a family were a little unrealistic. I think I hoped that my stepsons would "love" me and "embrace" me, and that ultimately, we would have harmony in our home. But now I realize that harmony is just a nice concept if it doesn't come with truth. And just like the journey a butterfly must take from cocoon to spreading it's wings, I must allow myself and my family the grace to morph into something different and new. I don't have the luxury to choose what color the butterfly will be, but I have faith that whatever the outcome, the transformation will be beautiful in it's own unique way. It is going to take time, that's for sure, but there is such hope in the knowing that we can change and that we can transform from something that isn't working into something that holds all of our hopes. 

   So as I work this week on allowing God to move in my life and in the lives of my husband and his boys, I want to hold on to the idea that I am the Butterfly Maiden for a reason! 

 

I blame Mike and Carol Brady

   I am a product of the 70's, and most of my ideas and major life paradigms come from that era. So when I met my husband, and found out that he had two kids, I just assumed we could be like the Brady Bunch. You know -- everyone would get along and the only real hotbed issues in the family would be "Tiger" running away or maybe "Peter" losing the architecture plans.

   But I am here to tell you that Mike and Carol Brady didn't prepare me very well for the realities of a blended family. I wish it could be so easy, but it's not. And on some levels, the complications have forced me to see myself in a new way, which ultimately has made me more aware and perhaps even a better version of myself. But on other levels, I'm not sure what I am anymore.

   Anyway, this is a short entry and will be my only entry for the next seven days as I go up to do a weekend retreat with  my husband and stepson to work on our relationships. I have a knot in my stomach, but I also feel like in order to get the most out of this opportunity, I am going to have to be brave. So I am calling on all my friends to pray me through this and I have big plans to come home and share all the greatness that is uncovered as a result of this retreat. 

   See you next week, and I send all my blog readers many blessings! 

Sliced Bread Revolution

   I was driving in my car the other day, listening to the radio, and this ad came on for On-Star. It was one of those testimonial type adds where this customer was calling in to the On-Star control center to add minutes to her plan. After she raved on and on about how the system changed her life, she said, "I think it's the greatest thing since sliced bread!"

   I guess I must have been extra bored or something because I found myself thinking about the cliche of something being better than sliced bread. Is having your bread pre-sliced in the bag really that life-changing or revolutionary? I decided that maybe I needed to find out. After all, I've used that claim a time or two in my life, so maybe I need to know how authentically I feel about it. So I drove my car to the local grocery store and went to the bakery.

   I selected a very small loaf of fresh baked, clearly un-sliced bread. (I didn't want to have a lot of difficult bread left over in case the slicing proved to complicate my life too much.) When the bakery worker grabbed the loaf for me from the case, she asked over her shoulder, "You want that sliced, hon?" I proudly said, "No thank you -- I'm doing it myself!"

   I'm not sure if I detected a raise in her eyebrow or not, but there was definitely a shift in her hair net when I declined the slicing option and I felt super challenged to put this worn out cliche to the ultimate test. Would it change my life? Probably not. But I was about to find out.

   I'm most certainly not known for my skills in the kitchen -- unless you count my cleaning skills, which are actually legendary among family. And most of the time, I think my husband rather hopes I won't handle the knives, but I felt ready to take a chance. So I made my way over to my perfectly sanitized butcher block and pulled out the serrated bread knife. With my tiny loaf of sunflower bread, resting patiently on the cutting board, I slid the knife across the top with a gentle see-saw motion to create the first cut. 

   My first slice wasn't too bad, but as I moved my way down the loaf, each piece became more and more disfigured. I might have been squeezing the loaf a bit too hard with my stabilizing hand as I pushed the knife down with my other hand to create the cuts. And size consistency? Forget it. One of the slices I cut -- toward the middle -- actually wouldn't fit into the over-sized slots of my pop-up toaster! And even the couple pieces that did fit were so uneven that they must of been touching the heating elements in the toaster! As a result, there was a horrible smell of burnt bread overpowering my Fabreeze-fresh home! (Bummer...)

   There's no doubt that the bread was still quite delicious, and ultimately, the effort of slicing my own bread really didn't impact me as much as it sounded like the On-Star navigational system impacted the caller on their ad. But you know, pre-sliced bread is a great thing, and I do think, after doing my own research on the subject, it is a worthy cliche. It does indeed simply things, and you know, that can be a revolution of sorts. Anyway, I feel as if I can use this common phrase with a truer voice, and now that you've read my blog, I hope maybe you can, too. 

Cup of good tea

    Sometimes, all it takes to make me happy in the morning is a cup of good tea. My sister sent me these tea bags for Christmas and I've only been allowing myself to use one if I know I can have the discipline to actually savor the sipping process. I don't want to just gulp it down distractedly while I'm checking my email. I want to let the tea roll over my tongue and season my mouth with all that lemony goodness!

   Today, I took time to savor the tea a bit. I sat on my sofa and looked out the front sliders at the beautiful, moody day unfolding. I took my time with my sips and enjoyed knowing that my sister, who I love so much, picked this tea out just for me because she knows how much I enjoy it! When I got to the last bit of tea in my cup, it was a completely cold, but the taste and the experience of all the sips made me feel happy and warm!

   Now, as I write this entry, I have to wonder why I can be so intentional with a cup of tea, but so unintentional with so many other gifts in my life. Maybe since there are only so many tea bags in the tin my sister sent, I realize my enjoyment of the tea is ultimately limited. But when you really think about it, since all we get is this moment right now -- with no promise of more moments passed this one -- everything needs to be savored and respected for it's uniqueness and importance in the moment. 

   Perhaps today, I will find a few more things that I need to draw my attention and my intention toward, and see what happens. But for now, I must confess, I sure do like that tea! ;o)