What happened when I tried NOT to wear black

Tonight our Bunco group has its annual Christmas party, and this year we are gathering at a restaurant where we will have a private room for dining, a gift exchange, and Bunco shenanigans.

Bunco shenanigans? What does that even mean? We are mature, intelligent, conversant, lovely people who behave properly.

ANYWAY, yesterday I was on a quest to find the perfect Bunco Christmas outfit. I wanted something festive and bright and (dare I say it?) sparkly. I wasn't totally against black, but since I get teased a lot about how much black I do wear, I decided that it had to be paired with something ... festive and bright and sparkly.

I shopped most of the morning and came home with FOUR dresses--a lavender/taupe shift, a grey and white sweater dress, a plum color A-line, and a dark purple swing dress. Not one had a smidgen of black. I planned to try them on, style them in a variety of ways, and then keep the one I liked and return the rest.

Well, I tried. I really did. But in the end I returned ALL of them.

I'm sorry but none of them were ME. One was too matronly, one had a weird neckline, one was just bleh, and the sweater dress (which I actually liked) was waaaay to short.

So I delved into my closet and styled a fitted long sleeve black shirt with an ankle length red skirt and black booties. Simple, clean lines. No fuss, no muss.

I was me again.

But I'll still do sparkly with some bangles and these ...

The Christmas Tree and the Painting

Every morning I come downstairs to this ... a trio of simple Alpine trees softly illuminating that tender painting (which I purchased, frame and all, from an antique store going out of business).

Speak to Me (Advent) Sunday: Setting forth

There is a YouTube video of Fr. Manno giving a lesson on what we should be doing during Advent. His answer? We wait. But then he explained the difference between active vs. inactive waiting, and how during Advent we should be actively waiting; that is, as we wait for the Christ Child we are not meant to sit around doing nothing. Instead, we prepare. 

His commentary reminded me of the motto verso l'alto (towards the height), words often associated with the life of Blessed Pier Giorgio Frassati. While on one level the words refer to our earthly struggle as we climb toward the summit of eternal life, on a very practical level the words are also a rallying cry for what we do while climbing. 

For we should always be doing something ... just like that waiting time before a trip. That period of preparation for a future action, a period of activity in waiting for the moment we can finally take that step and go forth. 

The suitcases were packed and standing in a line by the back door; I was in that in-between place of being ready, but not yet going.

I have often said that preparing for a trip is almost as fun as the trip itself. In the months leading up to that pile of luggage by the back door I applied for a brand new passport, purchased some new clothes, and managed to pack everything I needed. For months I gathered maps, read guide books, conducted Google searches, made reservations, and planned daily itineraries; in short, I did everything I could to help guide me into the unknown, and it was terribly exciting to imagine the possibilities and anticipate the adventure.

But it was also all kinds of scary.

Then something happened the morning of our departure as I stood between two worlds – the one I was leaving (familiar and safe) and the one I was headed toward (full of the unknown). As I reached into my purse to check (yet again) if I had my passport, I remembered the Dutch proverb that goes like this: He is who outside his door, already has the hard part of his journey behind him. It's a proverb about taking that first step which, without a doubt, is the hardest step of all.

So that’s exactly what I did – I picked up my suitcase and took that first step out the door, and for the first time in months I was completely and wholly at peace. I was on my way, come what may.

During this Advent as we embark on a journey connecting memory and hope, I am reminded how any journey – spiritual, physical, redemptive, etc. – begins with that first step. It may be the biggest step you may ever have to take, seemingly impossible and impossibly difficult. It may be a hesitant step, or a bold one. It may require a leap of faith. But in the end it's just a step.

And with that one step, you're on your way.

My sister's friend, Karla Falk, designs these unique etchings on slate taken from 
the roof of her family's 100 year old dairy barn in rural northeast Ohio. 

Making a List and Checking it Twice

Last night my friends and I attended The Night of 1,000 Lights celebration when what to our wondering eyes should appear ... but Santa!

Folks, he was the real deal. AND he was in Aiken, so he's close by. Just a friendly reminder to be more nice than naughty.

Spotted ...

on my husband's nightstand.

An Ocean, an Airplane, and Two Countries Full of Kisses

(now available)

My Book. It's Here.

Amazon

Lulu publishing

Barnes & Noble

Speak to Me (Advent) Sunday: Readiness in Memory and Hope

Yesterday I ordered my 2019 Erin Condren planner. It’s a beautiful planner; on the cover is a row of birch trees, and the autumn yellow leaves add a nice pop of color against the solid background.  There are pages with quotes and blank spaces to write down goals. Most importantly, 365 empty squares are lined up like stepping stones going forth into a year of tomorrows. 

In big ways and in small, each of those stepping stones will lead me on a journey propelled by Time which marches forward in seconds, minutes, days and years.  With every breath, with every step, with every thought or action or prayer, I am on a journey.

We are all on a journey.

Sometimes the journey is planned and carefully mapped out, but other times it yanks and pulls and drags us where we do not want to go -- through illness, incarceration or grief as we recognize what without understanding why. Sometimes the journey can be a battle with inner demons of self-doubt, alcoholism, or drugs. Sometimes it calls us to foreign lands, a new career path, marriage, or a religious vocation. Oftentimes the journey is exciting and adventurous, but just as often it’s a whirlwind of ordinary with carpool, dinner, laundry, work, and children.

I turned the pages of my brand new planner, and as I filled in the squares with birthdays and anniversaries and family trips, I saw all the empty squares more as stepping stones of hope rather than blank squares of the unknown. I then looked at my old planner, at the squares of yesterdays which were once tomorrows, and saw stepping stones of memory.

Tonight, we will light a candle to mark Advent’s passage, and I am grateful for this season with its gift of time to both recognize the journey and reflect on it -- to gather and learn and step forward in readiness. In his book, Seek that Which is Above, Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger (Pope Benedict XVI) describes Advent as a connection between memory and hope; that is, the healing memory of the God who became a child, and the hope that memory brings.

Memory. Hope. A readiness to journey onward.