My last post was on March 30^th, and I promised I’d be blog posting and writing and editing (and reading!) more often. Well, yes, I’ve done a bit of all those things (except the blog posting) … but not as much as I planned. I’ve actually been doing a lot of “waiting.” Somewhere I read the following words, and they seemed appropriate at this point in my life:

In times of uncertainty, wait. Always, if you have any doubts, wait. Do not force yourself to any action. If you have a restraint in your spirit, wait until all is clear, and do not go against it.

So, here I am still, 5 weeks after my last post … waiting. But I’ve also read somewhere (several places in fact—in books, magazines, online articles—all within a few days), about “noticing.” So, I’ve started doing that, too. Unhurried. Sitting quietly on shaded benches along beach-side paths on warm spring days, hands folded in my lap, gently breathing in the scents of fruit tree blossoms, and lilac bushes, and more. Clearing my mind. And letting it notice things that in the past I haven’t really taken much notice of, in the mad rush of life back then. Before things changed….

And yes, I am starting to feel some sense of creativity creeping back into my days. I am not at all sure where it will take me. And I’m finding that I’m not in a hurry (though I had been right after life changed—a kind of panicking, which, thankfully, has slowly but surely been draining away, replaced by relaxing … and waiting and the new bits of noticing.

Of course, I haven’t been doing “nothing.” I’m not built to be a “nothing” kind of person. I’ve always been a busy “doing” kind of person. But, oh my, it does feel good to stop rushing. What will come in my future, I do not know. But I’m okay with that (though kind of lonely and sad; I think that might stay with me for the rest of my life… If fact, I think that might actually be alright; and even acceptable, too. No need to rush ahead. No need to just “pick up where I left off.” Just wait and see what comes—and keep noticing, of course).

What have I been “doing” while I wait and notice? Let’s see…

• I finished some editing I was doing for a friend. And then contacted people who had asked me to edit when I felt ready … Turns out, they aren’t ready yet, which is probably just as well, because maybe I’m not as ready as I would have thought.
• Back to reading blog posts related to reading and writing—and then posting links to ones I find interesting, to some Facebook writers’ groups and Bluesky, too.
• Completed gathering photos of my sweetheart (1800+) and organized them more or less chronologically, and put them on flash drives for my children and grandkids.
• Dreaming of my sweetheart nearly every night—far more than when he was still here with me—and finding myself often wanting to chat with him. And dreaming often of our little daughter, too, who he has gone to be with. How happy they must be together!
• Journaling. Because it’s been the only kind of writing I’ve been up to. But now… I’m beginning to want to write more creatively. And joyfully!
• Walking. I injured my left ankle quite badly a week before my sweetheart passed. I wondered why at the time. It seemed so inappropriate at a time I thought I needed a lot of energy and get-up-and-go. But now I see that it has really helped me to slow down, and to wait and see. Most of the pain has gone now, just in time for long walks in grassy parks and beaches… and more noticing.
• Most of the “paperwork” that goes along with “estates” has been completed … at first, I was in a panicked hurry … but over time I’ve slowed down and relaxed, and am letting it happen bit by bit. So, “the world is unfolding as it should.” (I had the “Desiderata” poem on a poster on my wall when I was a teenager…. I liked the words back then. But now, fifty-plus years later, I’m finally understanding … about inner peace, and self-acceptance, and trust …
• Playing piano (and being amazed how much easier I’m finding it than in the past), and sometimes guitar (but my fingertips hurt more than they used to; oh well!). And lots of embroidery (so relaxing). And some French practice. And so on.
• Lovely long phone calls with my daughters and some friends (and just to think—I used to dread long phone calls! I am changing!). And going out for walks, and coffee times (okay, tea … I still don’t like coffee!), and taking in sunsets together (more noticing…), and checking out the farmer’s market, and having lunch snacks together sometimes. And going to writers’ group meetings (mostly just sitting back and “noticing” instead of getting all involved).
• And volunteering at the Summerland Museum. I’ve been digitizing their collection of “in memoriam” newspaper clippings; it’s been interesting to read of the lives of people who I knew as a child, but who I didn’t realize much of what they had done and who they had been.
• Put down the “stow and go” seats in our van and put in my cot and basic camping items (we used to love going camping together). And go to park at beaches, and spend peaceful, quiet times, reading and embroidering and journaling, and walking about. And taking along “picnic” lunches. And now that the nights aren’t so cold, maybe I’ll do some camping, too!
• Clean up the garden, and plan what to grow in the long, hot, dry summer that’s been forecast … and meanwhile, start harvesting rhubarb and parsley and chives and such! And admire his amazing strawberry blossoms, far more than ever before: he would be so happy!
• Doing some “minimalizing” around the house. Kind of making it mine—yet still, ours.  (I am finding the house, small as it is, to sometimes feel awfully big and empty … which is why I so enjoy hanging out in the cozy little van, I guess).
• Still reading quite a lot. But not so much as I did this past winter. Smaller things. Magazine articles. Short stories. Personal essays. Poems. Scriptures. Things like that. Fewer book-length works. Things more appropriate to a time of waiting and noticing–and not rushing. No longer feeling the pressure to “do” and to “fill up the time.”

Anyway, as Forrest Gump would say (in my favourite movie of all time!), “That’s all I have to say about that!” … and also, as he quoted his mama, “Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re going to get.”