Some days

Some days, it is about the small victories. Other days, it is about just slogging through. Still others, it is muddling through hoping the apple cart didn't turn over.

I'm not sure that today was exactly any of those days, not entirely. There was a small victory (booking a speaker for the elders I work with). There was some slogging through (hello, school work), and a bit of muddling (isn't that most days?). Oh, and some huge frustration with bureaucracy, not sure what that category would be, but today was that too. Even in all that fog of happy, slog, muddling and frustration there were slivers of joy.

In the upstairs of the cabin there is a huge window over the desk, standard height but about 5 feet wide with a view of trees and not much else, that faces west. There is a bit of what we call "lawn" where I have seen deer and woodchucks grazing and can catch a glimpse of the main house if my eyes veer left a bit but mostly trees with just a bit of sky above. The clocks were set back this weekend and my judgement of time is a bit askew and I can't tell if it's later than I think, or earlier, or darker than it should be. Tonight at a bit past 5pm the sun was setting, lighting up the sky with pinks, bronzes, and casting elegant shadows below. With more of the leaves off than on the trees and the conifers losing needles those pockets of light have shifted to allow more contrast of the almost black of branches which the sky peeks through with it's quickly changing rainbow display. This view from the window never fails to offer me a slice of joy, any time of day, any weather, any season.

The other day my beloved brought me curtains to help curtail the blinding light of the late afternoon, but today while I was at work had artfully tacked it up to allow the view to still be available. Sitting at my desk, working on a reading assignment (Pinderhughes's 2000 article in the Journal of Family Psychology on Discipline, if you must know), after being at my internship (it's going well, thank you for asking), I enjoyed the curtain engineering and the briskly shifting light show that my window offers me daily, if I just pay attention.

Perhaps that's what every day brings, the chance to be mindful, to take in the simple things that we know will lighten our souls, if only we remember to do that small task. There are things each day that if we really see them, breathe them, hear them, we can find the path to a moment of happiness each day. This is not something I do consciously every day, but often. I suspect I do it unconsciously some days as well, how much more joy I could have in my life if I was mindful about it every single day? Can one overdose on joy? I suppose a way to find out is to be more purposeful about a simple thing like the view from my window.

I {heart} eBa*

In prepping for my departure from Dayton I decluttered, parted ways with a lot of my belongings which I no longer needed the material to remember the spirit of my adventures. Apparently the universe decided I needed more of a lesson of release when the box of my bound Cook's Illustration fell apart and my collection was disappeared. If anyone has obsessively read my blog for the last four years knows that this is my bible. I love love love this magazine; I would occasionally grab one of the bound years and reread it, finding again all the charm again, reminded of tips and recipes I could use.

Since that time I have looked on eBay from time to time and sighed over my lost loves, frowning over prices. The other day I hit an amazing offering nine volumes (994-2002) plus the five year index with an opening price of $40 - unheard of I tell you! I kept checking back, watching it creep up slowly. Then on Sunday I randomly checked again, there was 44 minutes left and it was up to $66. Oh hells bells, I thought, just go for it. So I did. In the end I got the lot for $92 including shipping. I am beside myself with joy. They will be here in less than 10 days.

Of course now I see a lot of 15! The opening bid is $99. Yes I am watching it because if it goes for a good price I could recoup my original winning bid and something towards this set. Yes I am crazy. Crazy but happy.

I knew I was forgetting something

For at least a week or so I kept thinking that there was a birthday I was forgetting about. TGF was February 1st. Jennie was January 29. Aunt Suze February 5th. My grandmother's would have been, I think, 90 on Wednesday. There wasn't another one I could conjure up until the 13th.

Suddenly yesterday I see an email with the subject "Re: Where you can find us" - the title I gave a post I wrote to many people once we had established residence. It was from Elaine, a former client. Her lovely daughter turned one and her mama was touching base with me. This birth was a hard one, I wrote about it here (it's labeled graphic because for some it would be, not for me but others maybe).

This is just the sort of thing that makes me ache to go back to the work. It is so special to be present at a birth, clients touch you in a major if short lived way. Those last moments of a birth, those first moments a new life in the room, it's like breathing in god. Somewhere in the chaos of the year since that birth, my subconscious remembered and kept nudging me. Had Elaine not written, I would have never realized what I kept searching for, and I could only begin to tell her in my email back to her how much it meant to me to hear from her. To hear how happy she is with her life as a parent, how much her daughter fills her with joy. I miss witnessing the glimmers of that doing doula work. I don't miss being on call but I miss the work, the joy in those rare moments that are not replicated by anything else I have even done.

Happy Birthday Hattie.