The release date for my memoir is here, and two words come to mind: new beginning. Often uttered to denote a propitious harbinger dappled in an array of pleasing colors like a well-designed garden, these words are welcome among friends. I would say what is happening to me is a new beginning; and as I take in the words, I see a path before me that is mysterious, yet inviting, not necessarily paved but not overwhelming either: manageable with twists and turns but always flanked by nature’s beauty and those I love.
Sometimes a new beginning is terrifying, not so much like a horror film one hides from during more gruesome scenes, but more like an involved drama. One does not know how the beginning will end. The suspense builds, and it can uproot unpleasant emotions depending on one’s personal journey up until it. This was my first new beginning after my marriage ended, but my book talks of this, so I no longer need to.
Looking ahead, I see a community of people coming together to share their new beginnings, the good and not so good, and together, growing and learning, becoming a tribe with shared purpose and mutual love and respect. What does this look like? Support groups and associations come to mind, as well as prayer circles and book clubs. What is most exciting, though, is we can leave behind any preconceived ideas about how we accept or not accept a new beginning; we are free to construct how our reality will unfold and visualize it moving forward. We are in the Age of Aquarius, and all it asks is we open our eyes and see.
My intention with this Blog is to share my thoughts and experiences with you, my dear reader. As I write these words I borrowed from Dostoevsky, I wonder if there will be a dear reader, and I fight the urge to be self-defeating or negative. A new beginning takes time to reveal itself. My responsibility is to stay grounded as I write and live in the eternal now, loving as best I can my brothers and sisters who share this wonderous planet with me.
I invite you to walk along. There will be bumps along the way and the inevitable forks in the road none of us can avoid. This is the way of life, has been since the dawning of time. Our attitude towards them will determine how pleasant the walk will be. A positive attitude is a pair of well-constructed and comfortable shoes made specifically for the wearer that makes the walk bearable. I have mine. Do you have yours?
xox
It is much easier to write about myself in the context of a story, but I will give it a go here and hope for the best. I miss New England springs. The air is crisp with a hint of warmth, sweater weather, and I remember the lovely collection of them I had throughout my childhood and adolescence. Daffodils and tulips pop up dramatically because they are eager to display their beauty after months underground. I do not miss northern winters, and I still recall the mornings I sat on top of heating vents to stay warm. New England at mid-life is romantic: cozy cottages on Cape Cod, brownstones in Boston, fall’s canopy of colors and historical homes whose stories capture my imagination. These images are what is left of my life there.
Many years were spent moving hither and yon, and I dreaded it, but adjusted, settled in and learned to appreciate what was offered in those communities I called home. Living a transient life did have its perks, including the choice to sit back and observe life. I did a lot of this, storing sound bites and pictures in long term memory. They lay dormant, and perhaps one day they will be used in a story. We made our home in Virginia, and it was there I stopped observing and participated.
I began working with students with special needs and came to understand that they were the teachers, which was a humbling experience. I had many lessons to learn over the ten years we shared a classroom. Even now when I look back I hope they know I love them and tried my best to love them while they were with me. I still teach, but my students are different. They endear themselves to me nonetheless. I have said, “They keep me young,” but I’m beginning to feel my age and wonder how much longer I will be able to keep up with them.
I have three grown children who are my closest friends and confidants. It was easy to be their mother; though at times they tested limits, they helped shape me into a well rounded woman, and I am a better person for having reared them. I have grandchildren too, lovely cherubs whose smiles bring joy and tears, and when I watch my daughters with their babies, I am filled with pride and admiration for them. These emotions are one of the many gifts of grandparenting. It is an amazing experience, but it is much more. It is an opportunity to be a shining star, a loving example of humanity, and it is my desire to be these for them.