Now The Real Work Begins
Time has both flown by and stopped since I posted my last blog in April 2019.
My Dear Doggy, Emerson, died July 1, 2019, twenty days before his thirteenth birthday.
The 2020 Presidential Election was more than a distraction.
The COVID-19 Pandemic struck.
As of January 20, 2021 we have an experienced, new President and a Vice President who made history just by taking the oath of office.
We have a sharply divided country. The world is watching.
My manuscript of Defining Grace: Showing Up with The Gift of Divine Mischief is pretty polished. I am looking for a publisher.
I am not bored at home. I am hopeful and full of wonder. Perhaps the chaos we have experienced will help us find new positive possibilities. Now is the perfect time for Graceful Mischief for The Common Good.
The smallest thing can move our hearts.
A friend of mine was staying home this COVID winter, grieving the life she felt she was missing, sandwiched between generations of family in need of tending. She wondered how she would survive this time of troubles. In the spirit of home improvement, she squeezed herself into the crawl space under her house. She thought she saw something out of the corner of her eye and turned to look more closely. There in the dank, dirt floor was a tiny speck of green. She got down on her hands and knees. A seed of something had germinated.
My friend rummaged around for a clay pot and flashlight. Rescue equipment in hand and back on her knees, she carefully lifted the seedling into the waiting pot. She brought it into the house and baptized it with water and the name “Penelope,” the seed that remained faithful to life.
Penelope thrived with light and water and grew daily, first a stem, then leaves. Her family of origin was unknown. She joined us weekly for a small group zoom. Someone suggested that Penelope’s foster mom send a picture to a plant identification website. Penelope is a pumpkin, a Saint that survived Halloween! How Graceful is that?
Penelope encourages her mom and her friends to keep growing, even when they feel in the dark. “Penelope” comes from a Greek word which means “weaver.” This plant reminds us to weave our paths together, to reach out in the darkness, and to love ourselves and each other into new positive possibilities.
Now the real work begins.