The art of living lies in a fine mingling of
letting go and holding on.
The church I have been committed to and worked hard for is in the midst of turmoil. I know I did what I could when I could. Then I slipped to the periphery about a year and a half ago, resting and waiting and watching. Now we are in the maelstrom. I am trying not to be attached to outcomes.
Gretta decided this morning, she will attend Knox College in the fall. We are so proud and excited for her. We have raised all four kids to be strong and go out into the world to do good things. She is doing what we hoped she would do. And I know that is a blessing. But I am feeling in the midst of letting go and holding on. And I know I am going to feel this way for a while ...
My home away from home, The Country Quilter closed its doors for the last time today. The women who I have grown to love through their classes, their encouragement, their support and their dear spirits will go their separate ways. They are all starting new adventures and life will go on. But, yikes, I will miss them and their welcoming shop/creative community. I am letting go...
But here's the thing--we heard spring peepers last night for the first time this year. So in the midst of all this holding on and letting go, there are the things that stay the same. That we can depend on, and anticipate and anchor ourselves to. Like the peepers, the snowdrops and the crocus.
P.S. Will you be turning out your lights from 8:30-9:30 tonight for EARTH HOUR? It's a symbolic energy saving exercise, calling for action on climate change. Join us!