More Faith

I set an intention for this summer to try to have more faith in myself. When I wrote that back in June, I mostly meant about my writing – I wanted to have the faith in myself that the people who love me have in me. In the way most things go, though, my declaration came true in unexpected ways.

Already this summer, I have faced some challenging moments. And in them, and before and after them, I felt some clarity in how I needed to be, what I needed to do or say, and I trusted my instincts. I trusted what my gut told me, and even though many things did not turn out the way I hoped, I still feel that I did what was right, followed my path, trusted myself.

Change is in the air, all around me. And it’s not the coming of fall. It’s a shift in mindset – looking at 40, accepting some circumstances and having complete clarity in what I have yet to create in my life.

In April, I made a vision board that came very true in spooky ways. I intend to do another one this August, and I am so sure about what needs to be on it. I know what I want, I know where I’m headed, and I am leaving the “how” to the angelic experts. I am preparing for the best, because I know for certain that the best is yet to come.

I woke the girls up at 5:00 a.m. this morning and surprised them with a trip to Storyland. On the way up there, I got lost. I knew where to go for guidance, and got it. And in the process, I got a beautiful, scenic drive of early morning mist rising over the White Mountains, waterfalls, and too many shades of sunlight-dappled green for my eyes to grasp. We had a wonderful day together, the girls and I – riding the Bamboo Chutes about eleven times, then met Lisa and her family for a swim at their hotel and pizza for dinner. Lisa, in her most Lisa-ish ways, managed to affirm in two hours things that I have grappled with for weeks. It was a grounding I didn’t even know I needed. Had a tricky ride home (Hi…Giant Rt. 93 Sinkhole? Anyone hear about that?) But even then, I had two sleepy, happy, satisfied girls snoozy in the backseat, as I listened to Bedtime Magic and that crazy Dalilah music, and even then, I was proud that I had done something adventurous and bold and made a page for the scrapbook.

I’m tired as I write this, but Julia Roberts is about to be on Letterman to talk about the movie I’m second-most looking forward to this year. (Eat, Pray Love, but Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part One is still my dorky #1 choice.) I’m tired, but I’m going to post this inane rambling anyhow because I have made a commitment to myself to get freaking serious about this writing thing. No matter what drivel is flowing, it’s MY drivel, and I’m going to raise it on my Freak Flag for all the world to see.

Okay, wait…three more things:
1.) Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are perfection in a food item.
2.) The smell of my daughters’ hair, even when it’s chlorine-laced or tangly, grounds my spirit completely.
3.) I may not know what I’m doing most of the time, but I know that when I follow what feels right in my solar plexus, I’m never wrong. I can look back to being 14 and know that when I listen to that, I am never wrong. I have the 64 spiral notebooks to prove it, soon to be organized and padlocked here in my watermelon slice-colored office, waiting to serve their purpose.

Bon nuit, amies. Merci.