I spent my morning commute thinking about what I wanted to write to accompany this blog post. Two months ago I had so many things to write about, but seemed to lack the time to sit down and write them. Now I find myself with the time to write but only faded memories of all those thoughts I wanted to share - the curse of a forgiving heart, and a mind that seems to only want to live in the present.
The stress of having to let my assistant go on the day he declared we were supposed to have a party because it was his six-month anniversary (oh, I felt so terrible!) has faded, along with the imprints of the anxiety that led up to that day. I've healed from the illness, or closed-head injury, that had me feeling like I was going to die and wondering why I had spent my last day on earth working instead of with my family. And, the hustle of trying to produce a 160-journal wholesale order in a few weeks, from hide to finished piece, has passed.
I've now moved on to staring in awe at the morning sunrises, the beautiful fall colors, and the thousands of crows that fly over us every morning on our way to school, and every evening on our way home. In the middle of a rough week I received a call from a woman who I had met in Anaheim in January. She'd been thinking of calling me, or of emailing me, for months. And last Thursday, when I had hit the peak of frustration and the depths of anxiety, she called. She called to tell me that she had been praying about me. Praying, not for my salvation, but for my inspiration. For my balance of life and work. She told me that I'm a "Proverbs 31 Woman," which I remember her saying when we first met. We talked about a mutual love of birds and flowers, and she read to me my words from recent blog post, and told me about a piece of scripture that, in one translation, reads "you are God's garden."
She said I must have a lot of confidence to do what I do. I might. Or I used to, but on that day I didn't. The world isn't perfect, I told her, so there are ups and downs. And when it's down, a call like hers means the world. I thanked her for calling; for her kind words. No amount of thanks can describe the gratitude and peace I felt from her phone call. It was a wonderful call on the day I needed it most. It was an unexpected gift of the time, prayers, and heartfelt beauty. She reminded me that although I may spend my time in solitude, with the company of podcasts and streaming television, the reach of my work is much wider than the boundaries of my studio. For all of this, I am thankful.