Good Christmas fair reader. I hope that this morning finds everyone filled with love and peace and as reasonably pain free as possible, regardless of what ills may befall.
It’s been a busy few days in our house, what with surgery and healing, a brand shiny new Sleep Number bed that seems to be really good for the most part but IS taking some getting used to, preparations for Christmas and just basically getting by.
This morning, much to Peanut’s dismay, I slept in thirty minutes and woke to the normal morning ritual. I found myself with a little extra time because everyone else is doing the needful (sleeping, organizing, what have you) around the house and the turkey doesn’t go in for another couple hours (again on the pellet grill). So here I am, taking the time to sit and relax with coffee and “conversation”.
I read a blog post (which I can totally not find how and I am kicking myself for not saving it to Evernote like I save nearly everything else) about someone who was going through her long hand journals and writings and converting to digital. I thought it was a smashing idea, so decided to make even MORE use of my Evernote account and transcribe poems and other writings I’ve done over the past thirty three years. I deeply regret the loss of some of the work I did in high school, because, while it was really rather juvenile in retrospect, I really liked some of what I did. I regret not having the red hard bound book that Sister Sue gave me as a gift. And I know that all of the words that poured from my tortured teenage soul are so much rat nest linings, wet and warped and beyond ever repair.
I’ve run across Christmas memories in my writing and it has me thinking of my past and how things in life have changed. I’ve realized that I’m more than just the sum of my parts. I am more than where I came from and who I was, more than even just the experiences that have gone into cramming my mind full of thoughts that scream at each other for attention.
I am unique in so many ways.
I’ve embraced my incredible weirdness and I have chosen to give way less of a shit what anyone thinks about that. I enjoy having an open mind and an open heart and I enjoy knowing that the lives I’ve touched recognize my weirdness for what it is. Like me or not, my spirit will not accept less than it is.
So, on this chilly (and if I look REALLY hard I can still see some snow) white Northern Ohio Christmas morning I wish you Joyous Kwanzaa, Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas , Season’s Greetings, Happy Sunday or whatever today brings to you and yours.
Love and Light
Back at you, April. I found myself remembering yesterday morning a song I wrote near 20 years ago. I sang it into my phone and it was fun to play it back. Merry Christmas
Uniqueness is a terrific blessing to those of us who have RA. When I look at my hands, I see them as unique. So long as I keep in mind that unique is a great thing, I feel great.