Nurturing Choices

As I sit here at this keyboard, not-so-random thoughts melding into words that might resemble some semblance of coherence, all can hear is the voice of Garrison Keillor purring in my head, "Well, it has been a quiet week in Lake Wobegon ..."

And it has.

I've done my best to leverage this quieting time that follows the unnatural frenzy of the so-called holiday season. I've invested a good deal of concentrated energy sitting with "things," plotting, planning and plotting and planning some more. It's a fitting time to stew such stuff, this winter moment of (comparative) respite - complete with a mercury retrograde no less. I have ideas now I want to kick around with some folks. I have input to solicit from others. And all this serves to nurture the seeds that I chose and planted in Autumn. Seeds that will sprout as springtime approaches.

My journal has called to me each day and I am pleased to heed the call, to follow the nudge, to make a mess, to play, to create, to express. Another nurturing choice.

I sat outdoors this afternoon in the cold January sunshine as my mind and heart wandered on the gusty breezes and pondered the choices that I make in this life of mine. Not everyone sees the value in my choices, and that's OK, because they're mine and only I can fully sense, acknowledge, honor and act on them with any real meaning. Likewise, when I witness the puzzling choices of others I remember that they're theirs.

Peace.