There are those days when all things are possible. Today is one of them. I have this amazing sense of being high and yet grounded at the same time. Last post I was reveling at all the uplifting potential for good times this summer. Not only have they begun to materialize, but new opportunities have spontaneously appeared, and I've grabbed them all.
My trip to New York was productive and pleasant time with Mom. Since she'd taken a fall recently, we saw her primary care physician and orthopedist and she had a CT Scan of her head. Pleased to say "all systems are good to excellent". We got her set up for several weeks of physical therapy and started the process to get her walker repaired. We even squeezed in lunch with cousins and a matinee performance of "The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel."
The day after I returned we hosted a pot luck dinner for six before seeing Terpsicorps Theater of the Dance - "The Many Deaths of Edward Gorey and other Eccentricities." Our favorite resident dance troupe.
Mike and I spent last weekend indoors in Hot-Lanta. Good thing we loooove the friends we were visiting because as we drove down I-85 we watched the exterior temp climb from 97 to 106! Mike and Bob played gin rummy; Xenia and I swapped practical tips and philosophy as we've been doing for the past 28 years. Sunday we brunched in style with relatives on Mike's side of the family we rarely get to see. The whole time felt like a warm embrace.
I'm thrilled to have just completed an eight week "Guided Autobiography" program with Diane Rhoades. Her writing prompts and facilitation, as well as the personalities and writing prowess of the other women in the group helped me dig deeper into the memoir of my (liver transplant) season of miracles. I've found a momentum and can now envision successfully transforming the manuscript I completed two years ago (but knew was not quite "right"). This is really good!
This morning I had two art-ful invitations in my "in-box". One from RiversEdge Studio to attend a pleine aire workshop in the French Broad River Park. I've always wanted to try painting in the great outdoors, but haven't acted too much on that instinct. The other invite was a call out for an "Art Play Date" from Sonja, an artist friend who lives most of the year in Florida. We're both signing up for great fun and practice on our beautiful riverfront.
I've been to McKinney's Small Fruit Farm once already and will probably hit those blueberry bushes again tomorrow. The beans and summer squash are beginning to need pickin' at our High Vista Community Garden, so we meet up with neighbors in the field on a regular basis. I can hardly imagine how I'm going to keep up when what seems like a thousand tomatoes ripen all at once in our personal plot.
What's even more meaningful to me than a whirlwind of travel, gardening, and local events is that I'm finding myself quite comfortable as I ride the currents. I seem to have brought a grounding calm along for the ride.
Ordinarily I need solitary quiet time in nature in equal amounts to the time I spend interacting with other human beings - that's just the way I'm put together. If I can't pull back and replenish, I get overwhelmed and moody. But so far this summer, I'm finding myself boosted and inspired by people as well as nature, by engagement as well as the pauses between.
I had a teacher once who spoke about life consisting of "simultaneously occurring, equally valid, contradictory realities." Perhaps this is just an example of that truth.