I totally surprised myself and had a wonderful day at work. It’s incredible how changing your mindset about a certain thing can actually change your experience. I was in a lighthearted, jovial mood when I got in my car to drive home. I snaffled down my ‘way home from work’ apple. A couple of weeks ago I decided to embrace the apple-a-day philosophy. (And I’m not talking about electronic devices. If you were a fly on the wall, you’d believe I was).

I also started a seemingly easy and insignificant habit of meditating for ten minutes each morning before I leave for work. The yogic wisdom I borrowed this idea from suggests thinking about what you most want in life and imaging and feeling it as already true. I decided my focus during meditation would be the simple truth that God will never leave or forsake me. Therefore, no matter what today brings, God is with me and I concentrate on feeling His presence and deep breathing. Works wonders.

A blizzard broke out halfway home. Totally surprised me. The closer I got to home the less visability there was. Roads starting to get slick. I gratefully pulled up to my driveway and eased my car into the garage, excited about the prospect of changing into my flannels and sitting by the fire surrounded by all my favorite things. No, not girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes…

I’m giddy with indecision as to what to engage in first. I can hear the faint jingling of our chimes out on the deck, in between songs. I’m listening to the classic crooning of Nat King Cole but hope I have time for Ella, Louis, Frank, Miles, Harry and Josh before the sandman calls me to bed. I decided to read my journal from the past long weekend and was astonished to find that the information I copied from my Yoga-Well Being magazine totally resonated with the wisdom I copied down Galatians 5. I’m going to implement some changes. Small doable changes so as not to get overwhelmed and stop all good things. There is so much I want to put down on paper in one form or another. Writing brings such clarity.

Then there’s my iPad calling me in soft whispers to browse Netflix and Pinterest. There’s a stack of inspirational magazines enticing me to flip through their glossy pages for tantalizing tips and wisdom on everything from “Mindful strategies too feel balanced, happy and healthy”, “Pursuing Authenticy: The world needs who you were made to be”, “Starting your dream business”or “The heart and soul of cooking” and “Inspiring workspaces of extraordinary women”.

When can I read all these interesting books? I want to know how to ‘Rise Strong’. I want to ‘Taste and See’. I’d love to be ‘Fiercehearted’. I’d love to be ‘Fully Alive’. And ‘Embraced’. I want to experience ‘The Gifts of Imperfection’. To learn to live ‘Present over Perfect’ or ‘Brave the Wilderness’. ‘Girl, Wash Your Face’ has proved to be just what I needed. Can’t wait for ‘Girl, Stop Apologizing’. ‘Authentic Living’ has me pondering all these things in my heart.

Robert Louis Stevenson wrote a short but powerful poem. ‘The world is so full of a number of things, I’m sure we should all be as happy as kings”. Short. Simple. Succinct.

I forgot to mention the arrangement of roses gracing the table where I sit. The dainty rose gold mulled apple cider candles burning warmly around the table. And my tall takeout mug of cold apple juice (Lexie and I have become addicted lately. There’s no middle of the road for us. We either dislike a thing or we’re addicted). No added sugar. In fact, I usually drop a few ice cubes in to dilute and chill it. My ruffled black flannel pyjama pants covered with white hearts coupled with a cozy black loose, tailed vintage lulu lemon sweater completes this moments favorite things.

I’ve been watching Marie Kondo lately. I wanted to see what all the hoopla was about. Maybe everyone loves her because she is so cute and mini and can’t speak English. I think that’s her schtick. She lova mess, it make her happy. Cha-Ching. Cha-Ching. Being her interpreter would be a great gig, except I don’t speak Japanese. I realize now that I’ve been Marie Kondo-ing our house for years, in my own way. It’s certainly not rocket science or revelational. Even her little ritual of thanking the house before they begin the purge. Hello? I’ve been praying a blessing over our home and its people for as long as I have had a home and a family. I could easily go into people’s homes and tell them to toss everything that doesn’t bring them joy but I’m afraid that some people would probably just burn down thier homes.

You know what brings me joy? My beautiful stuff. Seriously, folks, most of the things in my home DO bring me joy. That’s why they are here. I love the simple clean look but I also love my sentimental treasures. One problem with being a creative is that 60% of the ‘stuff’ in our home, I have created myself thus, it brings me joy. The other 40%, I’m planning on making more sentimental stuff out of. The armoire that I found in the ditch at the lake – we repainted it and it brings me joy. The boardroom chairs that I inherited from three jobs ago and recovered and use in my living room – they bring me joy. The canvases that my daughter and I have painted – Spark joy. The seasonal décor that I switch out every six months brings me joy. The four sets of dishes that I use alternatively when I entertain, spark joy. The bedroom furniture from my childhood that we repainted and Lexie uses in her room – spark joy. Knowing I have clothes in every size I have ever been brings me joy. Since I have an incurable medical condition characterized by weight fluctuation (its actually quite common), it means I will always have something to wear. Can’t even remember the last time I said, “I can’t go because I have nothing to wear”.

I’d better be careful that all those sparks of joy don’t ignite and start a fire. That’s one way to get rid of all your stuff.

My method is keep, organize, stash and camouflage. Here’s the thing. Creatives have a lot of stuff because we have a lot of ideas and see a lot of potential and we can imagine making something out of just about everything. In my case, I’m going to make something out of it and make millions selling it on Etsy. My creative supplies (and I have a lot) are all organized in see-through containers that stack on each other. And these are stacked in a floor-to-ceiling shelving unit keeping them out of the way and off the floor with the added bonus of visibility. I have three sets of filing cabinets in the basement that I also use for storage of my event planning paraphernalia. Fabrics that I am going to use imminently are stored in plastic three drawer Rubbermaids (see-through) for easy access. All else, that I’m not regularly using (like Christmas decor, home decor fabrics, seasonal clothes, kids toys saved for posterity or grandchildren, whichever comes first), is stored in numbered and indexed Rubbermaids. I also decided about fifteen years ago, after witnessing many neighbors and friends homes flooding from monsoon rains that hit our fair city, that there would be no more cardboard boxes or plastic bags in our basement. I began the process of switching everything we were storing into plastic rubbermaid containers. Each bin is numbered with all contents listed in an electronic notebook, making adding or subtracting contents easier. Also, extremely helpful when I’m looking for that thing that I know I have.  I look it up on my list and go directly to that bin number and voila! I have the bins stacked four high and seven stacks wide (do the math) and have a bit of a Tetris method to access every one.

Every time I purge, which is at least once a year, contents are rearranged as I consolidate and purge. In all the other rooms of the house I have lovely wicker baskets and designer storage boxes strategically placed to fit in with the rest of the decor that cleverly disguise how much stuff I have.  As a result, there is never clutter sitting all over (except if Lexie is in the house).  Sorry lexie…. you know it’s true. But I still loving having you’re clutter around.  It means so many great things.

Hence, I actually have a LOT of stuff but it doesn’t look like it. I have become very skilled in this technique. I think I need my own reality show. I think there are many that would prefer my method. Keep it and hide it.

Now here’s something you shouldn’t do unless you want to spend the next five days crying your heart out. Don’t go back and look at your Facebook albums from 2007 forward. That’s almost twelve years of memories.  So often when I’m living and breathing in the moment, I can find a lot of things to be upset about.  Sometimes anger.  Often frustration.  More often fear.  Most often, sheer panic.  Exhaustion. Despair.  And I can hear my age old mantra playing on repeat on the victrola in my head ‘nothing ever turns out the way I plan”.  Sigh.

Sitting here watching the flames rising up from the logs. Small blue flames framing orange embers. The warmth is beginning to fill the room as I snuggle beneath my fur blanket. All is quiet. Except the chimes on our deck that I can faintly hear now and then. All are in bed sleeping the cold away. Even my husband has not stirred and I think he is supposed to be ushering at church in forty five minutes. Will I wake him now? No, I won’t, as it’s probably too late at this point anyway. I’m thinking he must need the sleep if he hasn’t woken on his own yet. I’m sure there won’t be that large of a crowd on this -37 morning. I think whoever does show up can find their way to their seats on their own. (Ok, I got in big trouble for not waking him up…oops. Apparently we are not on the same page about these things).

I was probably just being selfish because I wanted to absorb this quiet warmth on my own and this is exactly the mini retreat I was looking for on this chili Sunday morning. My new status, working five days a week, doesn’t leave much time for reflecting and writing and reading. Not much time for quiet meditation and focused prayer. My weekends are now filled with housekeeping, grocery shopping, cooking, meeting with friends, connecting with mom and running errands. I’m not complaining. My recent employment is a blessing and a gift. For such a time as this. I know it’s where I am supposed to be, contrary to many of the resolves to do my own creative thing from now on.

I wanted to live the dream of working my bliss, but I neglected to responsibly set myself up to make this dream viable. So now I’m going back and crossing the T’s and dotting the I’s. A creative always creates like it’s her job whether it is or not.  I may not be decorating cakes or making butter tarts and pies for 400 anymore. I may not be decorating people’s parties or fancy hotels for Christmas anymore. I may not be designing and setting up wedding venues or giving people’s furniture new life anymore but those creative ideas and the practice of them never leave my heart.

I subconsciously bring my creativity into everything I do and have done in the past. It’s the way of creatives. The way I decorate and manage a home. The way I raised my kids and made holidays and special occasions into lasting good memories. The way I attempt to create our own traditions. The way I put together an outfit. The ways I have endeavored to bless others. Even the way I have served on committees. Always bringing my insane ideas to the table and making others query ‘you want to pull off what?’ The creative mind runs every waking hour.

And all the ways I truly want to leave my creative mark in the entrepreneurial world, well….. sadly, weren’t  happening because I was too busy responding to commission work. Which filled a much needed financial gap. I am grateful for that work. But I really wasn’t being true to my creative self. If that makes any sense to the more practical personality.

So now that I don’t have time for commission work, I will focus on those creative endeavors that are near and dear to my heart. Designing, creating and writing about beautiful things that make the world a better place to be. There is still much beauty in this world and I want my focus to be bringing it to the attention of those more cynical. I also believe that it’s still worthwhile even if you are just creating for the pure joy and love of it and no one else knows it’s exists.

You can put the girl in an office but you can’t take the creativity out of her veins.

What a difference a day makes, 24 little hours, brought the sun and the flowers, where there used to be rain.  What a difference a day makes, There’s a rainbow before me,  Skies above can be stormy ….

As I was driving to my new place of employment yesterday morning, I was feeling ever so grateful.  I stopped for gas and then I stopped at Starbucks for my favorite sipping beverage (I make it last all day) and for the first time, since the CD player in my car quit, I actually brought along a Bluetooth speaker ( I was given for Christmas) and was able to play the favorite music that I downloaded on my iPhone after Lexie talked me into buying Apple Music with 3 months free.  I was bopping along to Renee Olstead (singing What a Difference a Day Makes), sipping my Mango Dragonfruit and coconut milk refresher and feeling grateful to be alive and able to drive myself to a squeaky clean new job.  No one has held this position here before so I guess I am defining it, as I go.  I was grateful I had a car and that it had gas in it.  I was grateful to be able to purchase something from Starbucks (everyday).  Grateful to have nice clothes to wear.  Grateful to wake up in a bed that is so warm and comfortable and have access to a shower with hot running water and luscious smelling toiletries from our favorite scented boutique.  I arrived at my inviting workspace.  I was told there were no stipulations on personal effects at your desk, so you can bet I took advantage of that.  This office doesn’t know what hit it, but I’ve been getting a favorable response.

This morning was a different story.  What a difference a day makes, 24 little hours…..When I left home things were looking calm and quiet.  I stopped at Starbucks once again and proceeded out to highway 22x, heading for Stony Trail.  As I neared Stony Trail North it appeared that my windows were very dirty.  I could barely see through them.  Naturally, I turned on the window washer but that clean window lasted about 30 seconds and I wondered why  it was still so hard to see.  As I proceeded down the highway, I realized that it was actually sleeting out and the other vehicles were spraying my window with muck, therefore, visibility was compromised.  I could barely see my own lane.  I pressed on.  I was concerned that I might run out of window washer fluid before I arrived at my destination.  The further North I went the worse the sleet or snow was getting and my wipers were moving nonstop.  This actually wasn’t helpful because they just seemed to be moving the muck around as opposed to removing it.  I maintained my position in the middle lane – not too fast and not too slow.  Who am I kidding?  There were drivers in the right hand lane that were passing me.   Next thing I know I am wedged in between two semis that were keeping my windows perpetually covered in slush and whipping stones out onto my windshield. My fists were clenched around the steering wheel and I was leaning forward looking for a clear space of window to see through.  I am sure I looked like a tentative little old lady that should not possess a driver’s license let alone be speeding down  the freeway with the big kids.   I hadn’t even touched my drink or the bagel that I had toasted to eat on the leisurely (ha!) drive in.    Who can eat at a time like this?   I was a wreck and finally spied my turn off.  Grateful to be on the homestretch. And IT happened.  My left leg started to cramp up.  NO…..not now, not here.  I’ve never had one these heinous leg cramps while I was actually driving and seriously???  I’m going to have one now?  I admit,  I started to panic (OK – hyperventilate)  AND pray.  Those leg cramps are so painful, there is no way I could drive with one.  I was looking for somewhere I could turn off to get out of the car to put pressure on the impending cramp.  While at the same time praying that it wouldn’t happen.  I am embarrassed to admit I was struck with fear. I may have been crying,  as I often do when leg spasms are involved. I remember thinking ‘this was not going to end well’.  But I pressed on, what else could I do?  I reached down and undid the zipper on my knee high boot on the leg with the cramp thinking I would relieve some pressure but that only made it worse.  That’s when I realized that the tight leather around my leg was the very thing that was keeping my leg from going into a full-fledged spasm.  Praying and clutching,  I finally approached my final turn off before the office parking lot.  That’s when I started to thank Jesus as I knew I was out of danger now.  I pulled into my parking spot and breathed a sigh of relief and another and then another.  I finally took a long sip of my Starbucks.

And my drive home will probably be uneventful and I will be extremely happy because after five long days of work, I get a weekend.  I remember that these circumstances never phased me when I was 25 or 30.  The working five days a week,  I mean.  I actually used to think that I had really hit the jackpot back then.  A company has hired me and in exchange for showing up every day and doing whatever they ask me,  I’m going to get a paycheque deposited into my account every two weeks, with which I could buy shoes, have a place to sleep and store my clothes, eat food, go to a movie, book a flight.  I was deliriously content and naive.

So the new year is upon us.  Upon me.  And I am very conscious of my excellent word for this year.  Intentional.  I am so excited for the possibilities living out this word could  mean for me and my life and even the lives of those that I could potentially bless by being intentional.

I always pray and ask the Lord for a word or a verse that I can live the next year by.  It gives me a sense of purpose and of meaning.  I do this rather than make a New Years resolution.  Its gentler and much more meaningful.  There have been years where I stuck by that word or verse like a leech and other years I haven’t done so well.  I would say I did not do as well in 2018 with my word ‘stewardship’ .   I already have my word for 2019 and it happens to be ‘Intentional’ and I’m going to give ‘stewartship’ another round as it occurs to me that I could have made more progress with ‘stewardship’ if I had been ‘intentional’ about it.  These wonderful pursuits rarely transpire by accident or default or ‘just because’ we have to be ‘intentional’ about them. We have to live our lives on purpose. Not be swayed by every wind of doctrine. Not just react to whatever the wind blows our way.  In years gone by I remember Steven Covey talking about being proactive.  This is a skill I need to hone.

When I talk about stewardship, I mean stewardship of everything.  My time.  My finances. My health. My relationships.  My skills and talents. My spiritual life.  And when I talk about ‘intentionality’, it also touches every single one of these areas.  I believe once I become intentional I will stop feeling like a victim because I will be in control of me.  Paul, in 1 Corinthians 9:24-27 says this: Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it. Every athlete exercises self-control in all things.  They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable.  So I do not run aimlessly.  I do not box as one beating the air.  But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified. 

Well here I am exciled to the Banff Springs hotel in the majestic Rockie mountains on a work trip, once again.

We worked late into the night yesterday so we could have a relatively relaxing day before the boss shows up with his truck at supper time to commence the loading. Walking through the bowels of the hotel last night with our trolleys was reminiscent of being on the Titanic. Not that I was on it, but how many times have I watched that movie?

I haven’t written much lately as finding a space of time to be creative has been difficult. However, I have been pondering many things in my heart during this season. Many things. And trying to write them in my head and on my heart to share at a later date.

My last post was about being too busy. I quickly posted those previously penned thoughts as the following posts will build on those and there’s no use reinventing the wheel, is there?

As I relax by the arched picture windows outside the Cascade ballroom it occurs to me how generously I have been blessed this season. I’ve stayed at the Chateau Lake Louise once and returned for their famous winter sleigh ride and now I’ve stayed at the Banff Springs twice in two weeks. Room service is decadent. The views spectacular. The drive pleasant. The atmosphere familiar and magical. Tourists and guests swarm the famous halls looking for photo ops while wearing designer ski wear and fur everything. I’m listening to the crackle of the rooms’ wood burning fireplace as a tour guide struggles to be heard while he tells the story of the history of the castle.

It is here that I reflect on the passing year and all that is my life. It’s difficult to put things in perspective when I’m sitting here gazing out over the majestic Rockies. One of the most picturesque spots in the world, filled to the brim with foreigners who have come to spend Christmas.

But reflect I must, because if recent past history is any indication of time availability then I need to cherish this serendipitous moment and assess the damage and count the blessings.

To be continued…