for hours already this morning. I never know when a flow state is going to hijack me.

No complaints here.

I suddenly realized my feet are cold, actually I’m suddenly aware of my whole body feeling cold, probably a good idea to get dressed and have a hot cup of coffee.

Its not cold outside. There is a Santa Ana today in California so I might just sit outside and warm up. Funny to be woken up by the sensation of cold on this spectacular morning.

This full body lack of awareness is a weird artistic super power. Drifting into this state is sheer brain peace. Its hard to describe, but trust me, it feels like a connectedness to a easier relm.

When I bump out, its back to the cold ‘real’ world. Only. Which one is really ‘real’? What is truly cold? Checking the clock, its been three hours?

I’ve been thinking about peace again lately. This, not surprisingly, has once again worked its way into being a central theme for my paintings. These days when unpeaceful thoughts or conversations cross my path, my new habit is to look inward. And then like a subconscious nudge from I guess myself, it flows out onto paper or canvas. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I kind of enjoy that I am.

I generally would not have the conscious thought “Today I think I will paint a hand.” but this morning an open hand found its way into the painting, it kinda became the painting and I love it.

Its such a gesture of love and openness and gentle nurturing. I appreciate the little reminder that we are all more than what we think we are. We are powerful in deeper ways. Love is the strongest vibration. Love is safety and peace. Nurturance. It might be the perfect way to feel peace. Maybe we could all enjoy a little nurturing now and again. I might offer that to myself since, well, I painted it…

Sometimes these prompts are funny.

I am no authority

Just in case I come off as one…

I have no elevated snack advice.

I love popcorn and chocolate and pretzels especially those peanut butter filled ones, and nuts. Um

I wouldn’t describe myself as a regular snacker, even as a small child, I liked a meal. I had a wide pallet and always ran around so much that when suppertime came I was hungry. Plus I was one of those that drank from the hose and didn’t go home all day. You know THAT generation.

When I had my own children, there was a lot of inbetween meal eating, I felt like I was always either making food or cleaning up after. I was a vegetarian for a couple of decades and definitely felt hungry more often. So in those days, I made a lot of bread and biscuits and healthy cookies, tofu-pudding etc…yeah. Don’t worry, I relaxed my health-kicky snack making when they were teenagers. (but we can all appreciate the horrors of being the brown bread hippie family)

My adult kids still chide me about our 90’s version of health foods, but what can I say, I was doing the best that I could, homemade granola by the feed bag and all, whatever, it was an era🤷

These days I don’t seem to have the same need for snacks. If I slow down during the day, I love my hot tea and heavy cream, which I know, is not a snack, and I’m not recommending, because ginger tea is (I’ve been told) NOT a crowd favorite! Nor is warm coffee or really any warm drink. Off trend. So Sorry ice coffee friends, I might be still in the dark ages, and by today’s standards, a lousy snacker, but I think we can (mostly) all agree on chocolate ?!

I had to think about this one.

I looked up the definition and origin of the word. It sounds serious.

If you are on a mission you are going forward, you are focused on an outcome, you eliminate distractions, completion of the goal IS the goal.

Im not sure I have the personality…

When I was fifteen my family joined a religion that required all young men and any girls who turned twenty-one before getting married to serve a ‘mission’. The objective was for these young people to dedicate two years to preaching and sharing this church’s teachings with the world, thus baptizing new members in different countries.

When I learned of this, I was self aware enough, (at sixteen), to know that I was not cut out for any of that. I, having spent none of my life wanting to be married, actually rebelling at it and not being the least bit interested in any domestic duties, decided marriage was my only option. The church was a force, and so were my parents who bought into it completely.

Truth was, I wasnt cut out for either option, but someone else’s mission, that for sure wasn’t me.

So what about a personal mission?

Still.

I know there are enough people out there executing life with precision, completing missions left and right. I have only the utmost admiration for them. I tried for years to be one. I am no David Goggins. I know me.

If I had a purpose, it would be something like, remind myself that there is joy, there is laughter, there is fun. That self regulation is possible always, that everyone is going to be and do life their own way, that I can always return to a peaceful state internally. I can absolutely affect my own state no matter what happens. We all have this power, I’ve been lucky enough to have had to practice it.

A

lot.

I want my mission to be: get ‘Beatrix Butterfly’ published.

So that a handful of kids can grow up knowing this power. I think it can fortify everyone. Self regulation is a superpower anyone can benefit from.

Beatrix sweetly teaches this.

Some days ought to be celebrated. Often they are ordinary, unplanned and not even exciting. A regular day. Just randomly perfect.

I dont even want to explain why or how. If I could put something on a billboard, it would be that, because too many days like this have probably passed by me uncaptured, unrecorded. They may be lost in my memories because nothing dramtic anchored them.

A billboard can send out a remonder. Hopefilly I’ll pass it often and remember. For no one reason, today was the best.

Hmm

I do a lot of yoga. I have a daily meditation thing that I change up quite often. I prefer to stay present, but I think my tendency is to think about the future more than the past.

I also like to plan projects and give myself things to look forward to. I guess that is the answer, I think more about the future.

I do like to remember fun past moments. I love a good reminiscing conversation, but whats next, is enticing and interesting for me, always.

If you’ve been following my story, you know that I am spending time on both coasts these days, due to an ever changing aging parent situation.

You might also already know a few things about the challenges we’ve faced.

Currently, we are back im California. which for me being a more connected artist here and having this personality, feels like my home planet.

I have come to love and appreciate New England. I found amazing yoga and wonderful new friends there.

I have to say, you’ve probably already guessed, but this reprieve, this moment right now, is probably the greatest gift I could ever recieve!

A break!

Between the weather and the stress, oh my! The shift in energy is impossible to ignore. I am slowing coming back to myself. It feels like I’m thawing out. Things are moving! The moon is full, the year is new, life is starting to flow in the way that I’m used to.

The can-do-its-all-good mindset is replacing the impossible-heres-a list-of-whats-wrong attitude that I’ve been getting better at navigating.

Being home is a breath of fresh air. And a splash of sunshine. Long beach walks, design projects, family, friends, time and a place to paint… truly the greatest gift anyone could ever give to me!

Isn’t it interesting that the word challenge combined with ‘biggest’ gives me a little anxiety? I wonder initially, if I should skip this prompt question.

I might not be up for the challenge.

What are my biggest baddest challenges? What seemingly insumoutable obstacles stand in my way today? Shall I name the people? Discribe in detail all the difficulty?

I think not.

Here’s what I think I’ve learned.

Life is a little like an obstacle course or a complicated puzzle, in that its full of challenging parts. If it wasn’t I might get bored and restless and maybe feel a bit lazy. I’d have no way to know myself, no evidence of strength gained or progress made.

Yet as I roll into this new 2026 year, and reflect back over this past one, the past few, I can’t help hoping for some ease.

Less challenges. Easier ones. Recovery time!

I will say this: Good job me!

I came through it all, battle scars and mental growth aside, intact. Fine. Whole.

Today my biggest challenges will be to let go, slide through the airport drive, stay upbeat, and breathe no matter how any of it goes. Discern which things I can or ought to do, which things to leave alone.

Pouring rain, fog, worry, conversations about worry, stress… another day to breathe through. I am quite tired.

Happy New Year!

Much later…

Here is the Epilogue:

The traffic got worse, the airport was packed, none of the employees would make eye contact or help. There was no special treatment for our 87 year old traveler. (who has never flown alone, and not at all in over twenty years)

We self checked her in, lifted her giant suitcase onto the scale and found her a spot in the TSA line. I stayed with her until she got to the desk. Which was when I realized I didnt have my phone to call G who was still trying to find parking.

That was a whole thing, but resloved quickly.

At first it seemed lucky that the plane was delayed, after the rush of checking in late she could relax at the gate, but then it was delayed again, and then again. We dropped her off at 9:30am. A little after 1pm I got the text that G was heading back to the airport. I was on my way to our friends for the New Years beach walk and ocean plunge.

Then came the texts from the airport, G and his mom. Bags lost, no flights, much waiting, stess over her bag, finally a helpful employee! No they were not in the mood for eating or socializing. By five oclock my good and amazingly gracious friends had prepared a meal and talked them into coming.

Which was lovely. A perfect reprieve in the middle of chaos. Energies shifted. She and G left with plenty of time to park and get her situated on her rescheduled flight.

I went back to pack up and get ready to move today. As of this morning G’s mom has boarded her last plane into Providence after more delays. I personally have never experienced this level of airport difficulty. Earlier the biggest concern was ice on her driveway and porch steps, getting her safely into her house.

What I expirenced was major shifts in energy and experience. Much trouble shooting and regulating. Things that couldn’t be controlled and a few things that could.

So, I guess, more of life…

This is a question I can’t help but answer.

But

It’s never one book.

What am I currently reading?

Two novels, one memoir, and two non fiction.

I just started Wally Lambs latest because I love his writing, plus I recently found out he’s from CT and refers to places I’m now familiar with, someone gave me the physical book to read.

I’m obsessed with a book called ‘Quantum Revelation’ by Paul Levy. I’ve been listening to it while crocheting and it’s the best book to listen to and make stuff.

Since the ankle incident, my need to read has increased.

Barefoot Contessa memoir is fun.

Book club Ram Das book selection, ‘Compassion in Action’ is worth checking out.

Martha Beck’s interesting allegory, ‘Diana, Herself‘ is harder to recommend. I may have liked and disliked it. I read it several times.

I have been obsessed with this book. (not out of character for me to geek out over a book).

It’s about quantum physics.

It’s a history lesson and a pretty good explaination of how a wave of energy becomes matter. There’s a weird phenomenon. Particles (tiny ones, on the quantum level), need to be observed. Otherwise, they will just stay as waves of energy.

yes, apparently there are devices that can measure energy, electromagnetic waves. Scientists discovered that as these waves are measured, they start to transform. If observed, they then transition into particles which appear and disappear and even change location, as if deciding what the observer is expecting to see.

Its a bit mind-blowing to think that without an observer, there would be no matter. The book goes as far as suggesting that consciousness needs to invent (and continues to invent) ways to observe itself. Light, eyesight…

Early physicists, contemporaries of Einstein wondered if the universe is only able to expand if it is observed.

I can’t help wondering about how influential our perspective of observation really is. We see what we expect, or rather, we expect and then we see. something crazy like that.

There is a whole chapter about the fact that man decided on the concept of as time, it doesn’t really exist. (?) Time is a strange construct if you think about it. It’s measurable, but it seems to speed up or slow down depending on our circumstances. Memory is always inaccurate, the future doesn’t exist, though we can spend a great deal of time thinking about the past, or the future, which makes it FEEL almost like we are there, un noticing our present which can disappear into our past, then disappear from memory. Oh my!

What spending all our time rehashing or future-izing CAN do is give us more of the same things we tend to think about. The reticular activating thing in our brains helps us unconsciously sift and sort and look for those things we are used to seeing, or thinking about.

I can’t help wonder if I could train my brain to think more purposely.

The concept of thinking with quantum theory in mind, using thought as a precursor to intention as a precursor to actual events or things is not new.

It’s just that it’s not easy to remember to think on purpose, I’m finding that every time I listen to this book that I’m somehow wanting to try harder.

Sure,

I have many wonderful memories.

As I look back on my life, through pictures or just reflecting back, I really have had a wonderful life.

I’ve had my share of George Bailey-all-is-lost- moments, but as the years march on, I can’t help but be grateful for all of it.

The hard times, the fun times, the sad moments and the boring ones. All my fears and shortcomings. All my mistakes and mistaken beliefs, every day in sequence, I’m glad for it all.

Would I go back knowing all I know now and change anything or appreciate things more as they were happening?

Nah,

I think the way it happened was the way it happened. Neither good nor bad. Some days I wish I’d lived less fearfully, made choices from a different stance, but it was all part of what shaped my life and me. Everything I’ve experienced has shown me, me. That’s how I see it today. (Subject to change of course depending on, well, plenty of things)

About a month into my ankle recovery, I started a crocheting project. I had nothing in mind but to relearn how to make a basic granny square. There was some yarn left over from G’s grandmother in the attic., decades old in an array of colors which I didn’t choose.

Online, I found many different patterns for granny squares. I got a little obsessed with them, learning new stitches, making up my own patterns. Soon enough I had a little pile of squares.

I decided to join them all together, but with what color? How could I possibly unify this hodge podge collection of yarn?

Once I’d decided , still making little squares, I (with my broken ankle) somehow got to Michael’s to find taupe yarn No surprise that the closest to my imagined color was not available. I had to settle on something else.

I was not excited about my project or in any way optimistic that it would turn into anything but a sad amateur attempt (and a terrible color combination) of a ‘throw’.

My favorite activity turned into listening to books or talks while icing my ankle and crocheting. Even sports on tv was a nice back drop to my new ‘hobby’.

In fact, I was actually enjoying sports more. I suddenly was curious. What’s a walk off win? What’s a slider? I googled how it was decided to retire the pitcher and go to the bullpen. Hmmmm

Don’t even get me started on my latest book ‘Quantum Revelation’.

So after bordering my squares and laying them out, G’s mom was suddenly invested. She found more bits of yarn. Used something called a ‘press cloth’ to flatten some of the squares. When I started joining them she wondered about all the loose ends. Ugh. I told her I needed to weave them in. We discussed the size and shape of the eventual ‘blanket’. G had some good laughs at me in the recliner, icing and crocheting settled in and ready to watch the next Bruins game.

Who was I becoming? How was this throw creating itself? If I’d never met my left handed friend, if she didn’t have a terrible crochet teacher, if I hadn’t broken my ankle, if I wasn’t the type to get obsessed, if I didn’t need a ride to yoga, if if if, there would be no pile of squares, no listening at length to quantum theories, no interest in the World Series, and likely more endurance feelings about watching TV. Oh and no sitting comfortably in the recliner…

Laid out, my squares had all kinds of problems. When I pulled one corner to straighten one side, the rest of it needed to be pulled. These squares were a weird metaphor for everything. Affect one part and the rest is affected. As I decided on how they needed to be arranged, several possibilities presented themselves, I was aware that others existed, but I found one that worked for me. As I joined them, they straightened out each other. As they became one, they became something better than what they were as squares and certainly more than the yarn I started with.

It occurred to me that facia in our bodies was probably like the web of energy that we exist in. (similar to my crocheting). My broken ankle has affected other body parts, similarly one strong energetic happening in one place often has affects in completely different places. Tug one corner…

How could I want to relive what has already happened when I have so much more to learn and experience?

I needed these lessons and a few others. A way for me to learn made itself up and occurred and keeps occurring. Am I paying attention? I hope so. I think I am…