Storytime: So, two friends were sitting on a park bench eating a bagel. One friend says to the other, “Ok Joel,” (we had been talking about life & change over lunch…you know, just small talk…) “So, five-year plan- what do you want?” Second friend kind of chokes on his delicious bagel, pauses and says carefully, “Um, you’re kind of my five-year plan…” (True story) Life.Changed. OK…good talk..
I was reading Feather+Anchor this morning and Erin was sharing about her and her husband’s “Five-Year Plan” journal. Genius!!! Well, I guess now that my husband and I are sharing our “five-year” plans together now,(I’m off his list, check!) a pictorial list would definitely be my favored way of contributing! I just had to share Feather+Anchor’s smarty pants idea. We’ve been in major New Year’s mode lately anyway looking casually for a new place to live, reflecting on the insanity of last year with all of it’s blessings and sorrows, and deciding that it’s time for change. And time to grab hold of our life and do our little part in the steering. You don’t have much control over the directions taken in your life sometimes (most times), but we can surely choose the course and then hang on for the ride….
Speaking of journals, the last couple days’ images have been excerpts from a journal I made for said “other friend” before I ever knew he was going to be the receiver…sans the last page, which was the “yay! I know who my husband is going to be now!” collage, which I made after the guy with the bagel came on the scene. It took years to fill…. talk about five-year plans….!
That dream journal was quite the investment….
How do you plan for the future? Microsoft Word? “It’s all up here”?
A choreographed puppet show?
…learn to love love deeply. Learn to love kindness, gentleness and patience, and love these more than your own comfort. Agape love is the best way for you both- to experience and to give out. Women, love your husbands this way- walk it out past feelings, emotions, and hormone levels. Of course you love him and of course he knows it…but but walk out that passion with action.
Keep each other warm… <3
the Kettle Range
with grace in her heart and flowers in her hair…
Oh, the West…
I’ve been waiting to blog about farm things and other goings on, but really, I just care a lot about my family right now. I care about this life I am living with my husband, and I care about telling how beautiful it all has been. This is a little collection of pictures from Indian Summer last year. What better way to welcome in these lengthening days… I adore solstice. I adore love. I adore staying outside as much as possible. I adore this one, wild life we have, and I’m thankful for Mary Oliver’s little reminders to savor these days…
“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
Love writes a letter and sends it to hate. My vacations ending. I’m coming home late. The weather was fine and the ocean was great and I can’t wait to see you again.
Hate reads the letter and throws it away. “No one here cares if you go or you stay. I barely even noticed that you were away. I’ll see you or I won’t, whatever.”
Love sings a song as she sails through the sky. The water looks bluer through her pretty eyes. And everyone knows it whenever she flies, and also when she comes down.
Hate keeps his head up and walks through the street. Every stranger and drifter he greets. And shakes hands with every loner he meets with a serious look on his face.
Love arrives safely with suitcase in tow. Carrying with her the good things we know. A reason to live and a reason to grow. To trust. To hope. To care.
Hate sits alone on the hood of his car. Without much regard to the moon or the stars. Lazily killing the last of a jar of the strongest stuff you can drink.
Love takes a taxi, a young man drives. As soon as he sees her, hope fills his eyes. But tears follow after, at the end of the ride, cause he might never see her again.
Hate gets home lucky to still be alive. He screams o’er the sidewalk and into the drive. The clock in the kitchen says 2:55, And the clock in the kitchen is slow.
Love has been waiting, patient and kind. Just wanting a phone call or some kind of sign, That the one that she cares for, who’s out of his mind, Will make it back safe to her arms.
Hate stumbles forward and leans in the door. Weary head hung, eyes to the floor. He says “Love, I’m sorry”, and she says, “What for? I’m your and that’s it, Whatever. I should not have been gone for so long. I’m your’s and that’s it, forever.”
You’re mine and that’s it, forever.