Edit As You Go

     I started off the year with so many ideas, so many goals for my baking and creative arts journey. I had big visions of monthly projects, of learning new skills, and preparing myself for my next steps as a writer and maybe illustrator. The idea was for me to make cookie art as tributes to my favorite books and take a trip down memory lane as I reviewed books from my childhood as well and then created cookie artwork to honor those books. I outlined ideas for each month.

    I stared off great with my own book, Green Goo, as I so love the new illustrations that Trey Chavez created for me as they gave new life to my story book when it was finally made available in print.

    Then I moved onto a book I checked out almost weekly while I was in kindergarten, The Snowy Day. Ezra Jack Keats work in collage seemed to be perfect for cookie art. I was enchanted by his book and pleased with my cookie collage.

    From there, it was The Color Kittens, another favorite from my preschool days. The book is written by Margaret Wise Brown-maybe best known for Goodnight, Moon. The illustrations are by a husband and wife team, Alice and Martin Provensen. They illustrated dozens of books together, and The Color Kittens is lush and dreamy. I was fortunate to see The Little Golden Book museum display when it stopped off in Muskegon , Michigan. I saw original illustrations from this book, a dream come true.

    My next set of cookie art for April was Walt Disney's Grandpa Bunny, since it was near Easter. I remember the illustrations in this book were so beautiful, they dazzled four year old me. The shadows on the snow, the fall leaves, and the vibrant sunset illustrations were all so lovely they made me feel all soft inside, with that nervous night before the first day of school feeling, so pretty you could almost cry.

    The next book I wanted to use for my project was The Shy Little Kitten. This Little Golden book was first published in 1946, the year my mom was born, and was a favorite of hers. Since May has Mother's Day, that seemed a fitting honor. The author is Cathleen Schurr, my own mother is Kathleen, and the illustrator is Gustaf Tenggren.

    I knew all along that June, with Father's Day in it, was going to be The Bunny Book, as it was one of the books my dad always read to me, and I have loved it so. This one is illustrated by Richard Scarry, story by Patsy Scarry. It is a sweet little story where a family of bunnies tries to figure out what their baby bunny will grow up to be. Spoiler alert, he wants to be a daddy bunny. Such an appropriate book for June and to honor my dad.

    I wasn't able to follow the timeline I wanted for these projects. I wasn't able to go as in depth with learning new decorating skills as I hoped to do. I still learned new techniques, and improved on my skill, had some fun, and got to eat cookies-all big wins. Life happened, so I had to keep editing my time lines, changing my plans, and sometimes doing only one cookie per book project instead of whole sets.

    It was hard to admit I needed to make changes, either due to time constrictions, schedule changes, stressful life events for family members, or just plain fatigue. It felt like defeat at first. Then I worked on not just editing my actions and projects, but also editing my reactions to needing to make these changes, and accepting the new way the projects looked, and finding pleasure in the new outcomes, in what I have been able to complete so far.

    I also meant to write in depth about each project, and exactly what the books, stories, and pictures meant to me as a child, and now as an adult. For now, these abbreviated writings will have to do. Is it what I planned? Nope. It is more than I thought I would be able to do, and the journey has still brought me satisfaction and happiness. 

Permission to Thrive

     What do you need to give yourself permission to do in order to thrive? What changes do you need to make so that you can feel affirmed and capable and move ahead?

    This sweet hibiscus had a few blooms when I brought it home from the store, then nothing for weeks and weeks and weeks. Finally, I said to myself and her, that it was okay with me if she never bloomed again. Her leaves were a lovely shade of green and that in itself was enough beauty. 

    This allowed me to enjoy her as she is and to focus on her care right where she is at. I kept watering her and used the plant food I bought. 

    And then one day, when she was able, she bloomed. She has the biggest blossoms I have ever seen on one of my hibiscus plants. Ever. Once I gave her permission to just be, it freed both her and me.

    Then I realized, I need to give that same grace to myself. I need to accept that it is okay to change as I go, that some goals need to be altered, as life and circumstances are so changeable. Changing your plan or changing your mind does not mean you have failed. It means you realize you need to make changes in order to continue to learn and grow, to truly thrive.

Is There a Point?

     Is there a point? There might not be. We so often strive to find purpose and meaning in every little thing. Sometimes there is no deeper meaning than what is happening at the surface level, and that is okay.

    I think with my cookie fanart projects I am trying to capture an aspect of my childhood where you get totally lost or submersed in your play or creativity. I have faint memories of what that was like, to have time melt away, to have all worries and stresses fade out, and just be fully immersed in what I am doing in that moment.

    This is the sensation I am hoping to recapture, to help add to the arsenal of activities and processes that will continue to heal and strengthen my soul.

    Every aspect of these projects brings me so much happiness-from the planning, the reminiscing about favorite books, the creating of elements of the projects, and then the fun of putting all the pieces together. I hope you are able to find ways to engage your whole being in creativity as well.

Mission Statement-Begin to Heal

     I do take part in my employer's wellness program, not so much because I believe it will impact my overall health by much, but because if you do participate, and do contribute to your own health savings account, they will also make a donation if you complete certain physical and educational tasks through this program. The main task for this month was to write a mission statement for ourselves.

    My statement currently fits in with my belief on how we can help heal the world and make this experience of living better for ourselves and each other.

    The first task to recognized the things I can do for others, and the things I cannot do for others, and then to act accordingly.

I often feel helpless and overwhelmed by all the sorrows and difficulties in the world, like there is nothing I can personally do to alleviate those suffering from the impacts of war around the globe. Then I do nothing because I am overwhelmed and I end up feeling so hopeless. 

In reality, I can at least take an action to help in my own community, to help alleviate the suffering of others-such as people that are undergoing treatment for various illnesses and need blood or platelets. I am able to take a 4 hour block of time out of my day once a month or every other month and do a donation of a triple unit of platelets. It can’t fix global ailments, but it can help with local suffering, and if we all follow that lead-of helping out when and where we are, we could heal the world bit by bit, by healing our own communities.

Words Matter

     As a writer, I love the power that words have to convey emotion, to tell the stories I am trying to tell. As a regular human being I sometimes hate words, for the power they have to cause pain or division. I know this truth, this aspect, as I have seen it too many times in my own life and in the life of those I care about.

    I want to focus right now on the power of words to give comfort and healing. As some people know, this past year has been an extremely hard one for our family, not just because of the world wide pandemic that everyone has been struggling with, but because of the deep loss in our family with the passing of my father, and then my mother's many struggles with her health and well being.

    Hospice used their words of guidance and encouragement to help me be prepared for the reality of our situation, to know that the actual end was extremely close, so that I could make strong choices such as fighting to be in the care facility with my dad, and then knowing when the time was at hand to stay 24/7, that there was no turning back from this.

    And then when the unfathomable happened, just before what would ordinarily have been a joyous Christmas holiday season for our family, it was the words of friends and family that brought great comfort. A dear friend of mine has been through a similar loss with her mother just two years before. Her priest had passed on comforting words to her, among them the thought that God takes home the ones He has the most tender heart for during the Christmas season, the souls He holds in closest regard. Those were words I clung to then, and still cling to today for comfort.

    Little could that priest know that his words of comfort to my dear friend, would later be giving comfort to others, to me. We never know what sort of impact our words will have on others. I am trying to be more mindful of the words I choose to share with others, of the stories I am creating for myself, and for them, to help us all be able to write the best outcomes possible.

Pause in the Journey

     As summer winds down I took a pause in my baking journey. This holiday weekend I chose to work with one of my standby cookie recipes, my sugar cookie recipe. I decided it was not time to delve into any new recipes. Several of the new recipes I have in my queue appear to me to be more autumn oriented. My sugar cookie recipe is year round for me, changed to be seasonally appropriate depending on the cutters I use. Since I bought several new cookies cutters at the summer sidewalk sales, I figured now is a good time to try them.

    I also made batches of my citrus trio cookies, as they seemed to be a great addition to my end of summer theme I wanted to create. I was quite pleased with how they all turned out. It was fun to indulge in some cookies just for me. I still created several gift plates, had sets of cookies I brought to two family gatherings, and my best friend was able to use several plates of cookies at her family gathering as well, so I felt I was being true to my journey for the year in that regard, while sort of recharging my battery for my creativity for myself.

    This Labor Day, as I pause to reflect, one aspect I have been grateful for on my baking journey this year, is taking the time to learn and work on new recipes just for the sake of learning something that I want to know more about and share with others. People have said in the past that I should do this as a business or as fulltime work, but for me that would take away the joy and relaxation that I experience when I bake, the ability to shut off my anxieties and just be. 

    One practical offshoot of this endeavor has been allowing myself to look at other labors or work that I do in my life with a new perspective. I have never had the best relationship with any of my past jobs in my younger days, always being way too dependent on them for my daily existence, for all aspects of my life, and so afraid of what might happen if I ever unexpectedly lost that integral part of my existence.

     Learning for the sake of learning has been the tool I needed to change how I relate to work. It has allowed me to take the time to step back and look at how I relate to my tasks and make changes that might not seem practical to others, but are necessary for me to finally have a healthier relationship with the concept of work, learning, career, and how I fill my time on a daily basis. 

    This Labor Day that is my hope for others, that they too may be able to figure out what it means to labor, to work, to create, to contribute to their life and their community, and how to do so in productive and healthy ways.

One More Story

     I'm not a classic hoarder. I don't care for the clutter of physical things. I tend to take after my mother's mother. I will throw things out, even if I think there is a possibility I will need them later. When we bought our house, I avoided getting much in the way of furniture for as long as possible. I adored all the empty space. But when it comes to stories, thoughts, emotions, memories-I hold onto every single one, even ones that might seem pointless.

    Why do I do this? I suppose it is some attempt to try to sift through information and make things make sense, to try to understand the why and how of everyday life. We have had a bit of a traumatic summer, even more so than the usual difficulties brought on by a world wide pandemic.

    As my dad said, shortly before he had to have spinal surgery to remove a mass from his spinal cord and get his spine rebuilt, he was just eating his cheeseburger, minding his own business, watching one of his shows on History channel, until suddenly, he wasn't.

    Suddenly we were calling an ambulance, rushing from one hospital to the next, he was undergoing hours and hours of testing, and we were receiving potentially grim information. Massive amounts of medication became necessary to combat pain and the muscle spasms of an unruly nervous system that was overtaking his body. Soon, he was in surgery for 6 hours one day, then 9 hours the next.

    During the days of pretesting and surgeries, he slipped further and further away. The medications caused a deep fog to settle over him. Most of his thoughts and conversations turned either inward or were with people that I could not see. Anytime he touched down in our shared reality, I would cling to any words he said, storing them away in my heart and mind, my precious hoarded treasures. 

    The few minutes before the sedation process began before his big surgery, is when he said, "It's been a good run. Look after your mother." These words left me cringing, wishing he would not say that, as it is no easy task to honor, for a variety of reasons.

    And then he emerged, almost 12 hours later, and was so upset, due to being in even more pain, Pain we thought would be gone, that the surgery would fix. And that was the last coherent moment before he slipped away completely. And his words were full of pain, hurt, and anger over his predicament. Words I wanted to forget, but also held close, replaying whenever they crept to the front of my mind.

    And then, just nothing. Nonsense. Ramblings. Incoherence. Kind words from care givers that mean well, he doesn't mean what he says. Sometimes they never come back, sometimes the delirium is permanent, you just never know.

    Separation due to quarantines and rules about interactions with those in care facilities, loss of time, and for him, further loss of self. 

    Another hospitalization, but at least I can see him. He still knows I am his daughter, but for how long? The next day, the same results, fog, sleep, and fading thoughts.

    And then, oh glorious day, I walk in his room and he is sitting up in his bed. His doctor notices right away the change of mood when dad sees me. He notices dad is instantly grounded in the moment in a way he has not been in over a month.

    Dad starts talking about his woes which leads him to the lyrics of Old Man River from Showboat, so he sings me a verse or two. This leads him to telling me about the time he went with his parents and older brother to Chicago to see the show. He says they rode the train his grandpa Kelly was the conductor on. I know this is true, he has told me this story before. I know it is a real memory, a real piece of him that has come to the surface.

    My heart soars as it is filled with hope. I know this doesn't mean he is cured, that everything is fixed, but it is a hopeful moment, words to cling to and treasure. I am so grateful to hear my dad tell me one more story.