She tastes like nectar and salt. Nectar and salt and apples. Pollen and stars and hinges. She tastes like fairy tales. Swan maiden at midnight. Cream on the tip of a fox’s tongue. She tastes like hope.
Laini Taylor, Daughter of Smoke and Bone
Hope is a beautiful thing and these days I feel it coursing through my life again. Despite a day spent of crabby patty row, I find these days are filled with possibility and wonder. This is remarkable place to be again. For some time, I moved through my days in slow motion, spinning in circles with a few shuffles backwards. I'd wake up and throw darts at the day, letting it lead me like a dustball in the wind...which is out of character for me. I've always had goals and direction for my life, keeping in mind flexibility to life's unexpected surprises. I GET life will hand eveyone there share of lessons but my god, am I ready for smooth sailing. I prefer to laugh more than cry during the day. Feel things and have drive toward dreams. When those are missing, it's like living in one of the mazes I remember from the movie the Mazerunner....Let's try this way, bam {knock head into cement wall}, nope that hurt. Bad. Proceed to the crying part.
Now it's more like the movie Up, with a beautiful colorful house effortlessly lifting towards a bright and promising direction. Quite lovely and much preferred state of being.
And my dreams aren't nightmares anymore. I dream so deeply and soundly. There are movies in my mind. And I enjoy the show instead of waking up, drenched in sweat and filled with sheer panic.
I am grateful for the opportunities and the new people that add so richly to my life. Sharing with me the journey of recovery and rebirth from brokenness. They listen, make me laugh and just understand the complexity and grace it takes to boldly move into a new direction. Leaning heavy into faith.
This will be a good year. A hopeful year. A happy year
And I'm sure filled with surprises and sweet sweet grace.
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