Trusting one's heart

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Written earlier today before the granddaughters woke. 

I foresee plenteous machine stitching in the near future. I tried some hand-sewing this week and boy my shoulder was cranky. I am in the treatment pipeline for said right shoulder, but medical stuff is slow as snot these days, yet I am hopeful to be back in my usual routine of nightly hand-stitching as soon as is feasibly possible.

(I might sneak in some surreptitious hand-stitching merely to have completed the necessary blocks to snap a photo of Alexandria quilt progress. Not that I am planning to tackle it as soon as I can sew with ease, but one of these days I'll get back to that beauty!)

January 2025; the long sides aren't sewn together, but the center is!

It's hard wanting to work on something that in the end causes pain. The grandgirls have been using my machines, which stirs within me the desire to don earplugs and headphones and create in a manner that defies belief, when one's belief is that sitting on the sofa with needles and thread in hand is the way to fashion a quilt. LOLOL! Yet it's best to do what one can, trusting that doctors etc will put my shoulder right and by resting it now I'm helping in that healing effort. That's what I keep telling myself: I'm enacting the correct course by not picking up tools that stir within my heart deep joy and peace. Why hand-sewing makes me that happy I cannot say, just the way I'm wired.

I am leaning HARD these days on trusting my heart, my soul. Heart and soul are kinda entwined, and I am heavily meshed within them, maintaining peace of mind as well as a calm inner realm when other notions clamor in my gray matter, like WRITING BOOKS, ahem. Or taking photos for book covers for novels I'll be releasing relatively soon. Not as soon as I originally considered, but WOW, things aren't happening to Past Me's expected timeline, and maybe that's just how life goes. Straight to the Heart came out a month late, Home and Far Away: The Enran Chronicles Book Four will be the same, and Part Four of The Hawk will probably follow. Semi-retirement beckons more loudly every day despite how my hearing has diminished. This visit with family has clearly shown not that I require hearing aids, but that I must be closer than halfway across the room to hear what the granddaughters are saying.

Yet this is not a Get Your Old Lady Act Together post, hah! This is a Take a Deep Breath and Let It Out Calmly entry. Because part of living is accepting getting older and not freaking out when this, that, or some other shite threatens one's equilibrium. The last few days I've been reading the first nine verses of Psalm 37. Verse 8 reads: Do not give in to worry or anger; it only leads to trouble. That's from my Good News Bible, Today's English Version, Children's Edition. In my New Revised Standard Version the same verse reads: Refrain from anger, and forsake wrath. Do not fret - it only leads to evil. That translation is fine, but I prefer the former, maybe because trouble is less threatening than evil, or maybe because I know the world is horribly corrupt and who needs to spell it out further?

Regardless of which translation one chooses, the essence is the same: Don't become traumatized by all the planetary hoo haa but allow your heart to rest in Love. I keep abreast of what I need to know and do, but to allow trouble or evil to overwhelm? No, I cannot do that. I can't inundate myself in that level of...sorrow, pain, misery. I will mourn with those who mourn, yet I will also rejoice with those who rejoice. I certainly can't create anything beautiful if all I am is mired in, well, trouble and evil. My journey on this corporeal plane isn't aligned to said corporeal plane. My heart and soul dwell within a different element that cannot be quashed, squashed, or defeated.

February 2025; the three blocks in dark blue and near black have been multiplying! The last of sixteen sits in the living room, awaiting completion. Then I'll lay it out and post a pic.

The marine layer has emerged, a little late, stealing the vibrant sunny morning. Sometimes that happens. Yet those murky clouds won't last forever, some striking portion of brightness will return. When and how aren't for me to fret over; there's that word, fret. If I became vexed because the sun slipped behind clouds, how could I function? Sometimes in this life clouds real and figurative rule. But not forever. Maintain that heartpeace, and make something beautiful occur in your world today!

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