by Heather Plett | Jul 14, 2009 | Uncategorized
I was going to write something about disappointment today. Something about how disappointing it was to miss a day of my beloved Folk Festival because I was busy vomiting and passing out. Something about how I never felt like I fully engaged in the rest of the Folk Festival because I was weary and still queezy and didn’t ever have one of those “lost fully in the beauty of it” moments. Something about how disappointing it was to wake up Monday morning (on my “take an extra day off work just to rest” day) only to rush to the toilet for round 2 of this knock-out illness, whatever it is.
But that’s not what came flowing from me when I sat down to write. What did come, instead, was gratitude. Gratitude for the man who looked after me all weekend and so patiently wrapped his arms around me so that I wouldn’t injure myself when I fell. Gratitude for his understanding of how important this festival is to me. Sometimes one has to live with disappointment to recognize the beauty in the things you might have missed otherwise. This is for you, Marcel.
His arms
He’s given me so much
So much affection
So many meals
So many affirmations
But today
What I marvel at the most
Are the times he’s given me
His arms
It’s his arms that have held me
When I’ve cried about mean bosses
Or difficult choices
It’s his arms that kept me from falling
When the news of my dad’s death came
And my legs betrayed me
It’s his arms that have caressed me
And made me feel loved
When I wasn’t sure I could love myself
It’s his arms that have wrapped around me
And kept my face from hitting the floor
When sickness stole my consciousness
There is so much of him to love
But today I thank God most for
His arms
by Heather Plett | Jul 11, 2009 | Uncategorized
I feel like I’ve been raised from the dead. Okay, so maybe that’s a little over-dramatic, but at least I’ve returned from that “hanging-over-the-toilet-seat” sickness that feels a little like death. And, trust me, I know how to do that sickness well – complete with fainting spells almost every time I throw up. It’s not a pretty sight. (Or so they tell me – I don’t remember the part where my body goes limp, my eyes roll back in my head, and I start to twitch and make clicking sounds.)
What a disappointment – to get sick on the first full day of Folk Festival! Julie was sick too, and her and I spent the day in bed together trying not to hate all of the lucky people we know who were enjoying the day at the Festival.
But today I feel human again! Not perfect, but at least human, and I get to go to the Folk Festival! Oh, it’s a happy, happy day! The sun is shining, my Mad Nomad chair is waiting, and I might actually be able to muster the appetite for a whale’s tail!
It’s my 26th year for this pilgrimage – yes, it’s just that good!
by Heather Plett | Jul 8, 2009 | Uncategorized
There have only been a few years in my life when I’ve had a room of my own. Growing up, I shared a room with my sister. When I moved away to college and then to the city to start my adult-life-away from home, I almost always shared rooms with roommates and (for a few years) my sister again. There were really only about two years just before I got married that I had my very own bedroom.
Tonight I’m feeling a little giddy, because I finally have a room of my own. It’s a tiny little room that’s more like a cocoon (only about 7 feet by 10 feet with no windows), but it’s big enough for a desk, a chair, a lamp, and some cushions on the floor. I think I can even manage to spread out my yoga mat in here.
I’m blogging from my new little room right now and I feel so very, very happy. Finally I have a space to escape to when I want to do uninterrupted creative things like paint, write, and just imagine possibilities.
I’ll write more about it soon – and even post pictures. But for now, I’m just sitting here basking in the glow.
It feels rather serendipitous that I moved in here on the evening of the full moon.
by Heather Plett | Jun 26, 2009 | Uncategorized
It turns out that playing hooky to spend a day at the beach hangin’ out with the seagulls, my daughter and her friends, and a lovely friend of my own was JUST what the doctor ordered! Summer is too short to let those spontaneous golden moments pass by. Just ask the seagulls!
by Heather Plett | Jun 23, 2009 | Uncategorized
I’ve tried to write about four different blog posts today, and so far, I’ve deleted all of them. (If you can see this one, it means it didn’t face the same fate as the others.) I’ve tried to write about re-watching my fearless video halfway through the year, I’ve tried to write something about where I’m at with work now that the board approved my proposal, I considered writing about the creative stuff I did yesterday on my day off… none of it is working for me today. I’m scattered, listless, unengaged, unsatisfied… I could come up with a whole list of adjectives today, and most of them would have the prefix “un-“ attached to them.
Let’s start with “un-settled”. Lots of things feel unsettled these days. Marcel’s dad is back in the hospital (and may never be out of it again – who knows), so our emotions have been doing lots of flip flops. Mostly, I’ve been feeling kind of emotionally removed from the whole thing (it’s been dragging out for too long), but after spending a good part of Saturday night (my “fun day” ended in a “not-so-fun night”) in emergency with his mom and dad (Marcel was on driving duty that night but he was sick) and seeing how weak and lost he looks and how worn out she looks, I can’t help but feel the weight of the whole situation.
And how about “un-motivated”. Yes, the board approved my proposal, and yes, I appreciate the trust they put in me, and yes, some exciting possibilities were unleashed, but… does that give me enough motivation and excitement to stick around and invest in these really big changes? I don’t know. The whole thing really wore me out, quite frankly. I’m tired. I’m waiting for my passion to be re-engaged.
Let’s add “un-satisfied”. I’ve got lots of ideas blossoming and they feel like really good ideas and I so badly want to jump whole-heartedly into them, but I’m just not finding enough time and space and energy. I took yesterday off, and made a little more progress on my studio space and created some paintings for the space (and for my new website idea), but they felt like such tiny steps when I’m chomping at the bit to make some REAL progress. I have a full time job (that’s a little extra stressful these days), three busy kids that need to go to soccer games and who-knows-what-else, mountains of laundry, a house and yard that are looking increasingly unkempt, and that just doesn’t leave a lot of space for creative projects.
I’m trying not to get to “un-happy”, but it’s a slippery slope. I want some fresh space to open up, but I can’t see that happening for quite some time. Perhaps I need to let go of this blossoming idea for now. Perhaps I need to just be satisfied with letting it percolate for another year or two while I re-invest the energy it will take to be really good at my job again.
What do you do when a bad case of the “un’s” drags you down?
by Heather Plett | Jun 16, 2009 | Uncategorized
Imagine my surprise today when I walked into my office, opened the envelope on top of my in-box, and spotted my dad’s unmistakable writing on the letter inside. He’s been dead for nearly 6 years. How could I be getting a letter from him six years after we buried him?
It turns out the editor of The Messenger (a publication of the church denomination I grew up with), who has known my dad for alot of years, thought I might appreciate the letter dad had sent him 9 years ago. He couldn’t have been more right.
In his later life, my dad became something of a writer (I come by it honestly, as do other members of my family) and had a few articles and letters to the editor published. He didn’t write alot, but what he did write carried alot of weight. He was a thinking man. I remember many times when he’d come in from long hours on the fields or in the barn, he’d sit down at the kitchen table, and he’d ask a deep and thoughtful question that he had been pondering all day. Sometimes (all too seldom, if you ask me), those thoughts would make their way onto paper.
For many years, Dad had had a particular fascination with sheep. His interest stemmed from years of studying the many references to sheep in the Bible. (Look for them sometime – there are lots of them.) He wanted to know what it was really like to be a sheep following his shepherd. The letter I received today was the basis of an article about why he’d chosen to own sheep on the farm.
I’m not sure why the letter showed up today, but I think there’s probably a reason. I’ve re-read the letter a few times and will continue to read it. Dad was a man of few words – when he spoke, you knew it was important to listen. Today, for some reason, I think I’m meant to listen.
This post started out being just about my dad, but now I need to write about my daughter too. As I was writing this, Julie walked up with a poem she’d just written. When I read it, I got a little teary eyed thinking about how proud Dad would have been of his thinking granddaughter. With her permission, here’s her poem:
I lie awake and wonder
What is there I cannot see?
I lay awake and ponder
This lack of knowledge scaring me.
I have not felt the touch
Of searing pain
Or seen the stars
like falling rain
I never can be quite sure
Even of the things I know
Should I stop and smell the roses
Or is it time to go?
I have not felt true horror
I know perhaps I will
I lay awake and wonder
My head with thoughts I fill
We’ve just finished decorating Julie’s room, and the first picture she’s hanging up is one of her on a horse that her Grandpa is leading around the pasture.
