Kathleen Botsford

Living on Purpose

 

Whew!  It has been an emotional couple of days.  An absolute roller coaster ride in fact.   I have written a post including the details but I need the approval of the main character before I can publish it. 

But as I was writing that post, my eyes were drawn to this pile of "old" odds and ends sitting on the corner of my work table.  The beads are old.  The books are old.  The icon is old and the ledgers are very old.  They are French legal ledgers documenting time spent with clients in the late 1800's.  As I page through these wonderful archives, I find myself contemplating the old saying, "time heals all wounds".  These were probably important  and official "legal" predicaments obviously requiring the help of "legal" minds and professionals to resolve.  And where has all of that emotion and trauma gone?  Like a wisp of smoke on the summer breeze, it is gone.  Gone forever.  If only we could learn to spend our precious time and resources on this planet attending to the things that really matter.   What would those things be I wonder?  Would they change with every person you asked? 

Living each day with the knowledge that "this too shall pass" is my most powerful motivator to living my life on purpose.  My purpose.   It's good to be reminded of my transient nature.  It helps bring me back to my course.  And the universe gives me lots of opportunities, as always, to practice, practice, practice.

Rocky Mountain High

 

 

 

I finally got my camera equipment back from the snow bunnies.  These are a few shots of breath taking Aspen mountain.  We spent a long weekend there last week.  The girls took ski lessons.  My husband and I walked around and ate.  Then we walked around and drank.  Then we napped.  All of the progress I made this fall with my exercise regime is falling down hill......fast!

P.S.  I did read "My Life in France" by Julia Child.......enchanting!

It's Winter!

The last few weeks have been a whirl wind of activity.   My high schoolers semester finals, packing children off to college and a long weekend in the mountains followed close on the heels of the Holiday rush.  Not to mention my birthday which was celebrated with much reverie this year.  Hopefully I can carve out a few moments of solitude before Spring is upon us.

I always look forward to the dark and dreary days of January and February.   I love the muted colors and starkness of the dark branches against the snow covered landscape.  The lack of sunshine does not bother me one bit.  I hurry with my errands so I can putter around my home, cozy with candles and fires ablaze.  The late afternoon is my favorite.  Dinner preparations on the kitchen counter awaiting the return of my loved ones. Soft music and a good book and I am happy as a clam. 

I was born in January.  Maybe that is why I feel so comfy here.  No reason to be out in the world.  Just my inner landscape to wander and ponder.  And the perfect excuse to do so.  It's Winter!

Wisdom of the Beads

The holidays are busy and lots of my creative juice flows into decorating our home.  While I do glean deep satisfaction from this nesting instinct, I find I MUST take my creative urges further, even as time grows short and to-do lists grow ever longer.  If I am to stay centered at all, I must 'create' something with my hands. 

My studio is a mess; full of presents and wrapping papers, wayward items dropped off with the intention of a trip to the third floor, not a spare inch available for paint or paper creations.  BUT.....there is always the floor and my basket of ancient beads close at hand.   A scant few moments of rummaging and sorting brings me to a calm and meditative state.   A moment or two more and the beads have found their mates as if by magic.  They were just waiting for my hands to do the work, making antique artifacts into new necklaces.  New art pieces carrying the history and stories of old to a new generation, a new group of seekers ready and eager to honor the old traditions, the old rituals, the old ways.  It is where we all came from whatever the land of our ancestors.

Sometimes I think it is the 'creating' that brings me to peace and balance.  Other times I know it is the wisdom of the beads I hold in my hands.  The old and dusty prayers repeated and repeated as human fingers long gone, held fast to the promise of an eternal life. 

A Fresh Start

As I begin to dismantle Christmas, I am contemplating the mystery of time.  Timelessness to be exact.  I used to dread taking down the trees and the decorations.   Now I realize there is a time to every season.  I can softly disentangle the memories hanging on the trees as I gently wrap each one in tissue and snuggle it into place for another year of hibernation.  I can celebrate the 'end' of the season as joyfully as I celebrated the beginning.  It has always been my choice even when I could not see it.

I look forward to the winter months.  I look forward to dark and dreary days just begging for a fire, a cup of tea and a book.  I look forward to the time to answer these calls for solitude and the grace to enjoy them without the constant nagging of my inner critics urging me to 'do something useful'.  I look forward to the courage to do nothing at all if that is what I so choose.

I look forward to a 'fresh' start.  Each day.  Each hour.  Each moment.

Happy New Year dear friends!