Don’t try to fix her when she cries. She needs to be broken to give life to words. Don’t hold her when she says she wants to be alone. She needs the solitude to create new worlds. Let her fall apart. Let her keep secrets. Let her walk away. She’ll come back to you. She’ll show you her dreams and nightmares. She’ll put herself back together. You just have to learn to listen with your eyes and let her pen be her lips.
So very, very true.
my heart longs to make art
it’s the soul balm
I am needing
layered alongside that though
is family business paperwork
waiting for me To Do
trying to balance my time
weighing heart cry vs. duty
I called the 1-800 number
the one atop this bill
seemed wise to double check
‘cause I thought I’d maybe paid it
handwritten check register read:
#9988 2/27/13 $389.90
the total due matched right up
answered the automated questions
by typing on the phone
was given a second number
for “facilities business office”
a person answered right away
gave ‘em the account number
they replied with a human voice:
“Zero Balance”
“Paid In Full”
what beautiful words those are
just like Jesus on the cross
who forgives us
over and over
BIG TIME
sinners saved by grace
a gift freely given
all we are To Do is ask
“Amazing Grace”
was played across radio waves
this very morning too
I sang along and cried
I almost always do
March 13, 2013
I’m finally mailing our Illinois state taxes.
Snail mail is necessary, to send extra paperwork required.
Doggone Tax Time.
Stapling W-2 then mailing.
Just a week or so after finishing…
There is a grape jelly smudge on them.
Oh well.
A l’il sign of Food, Family and Life.
That about sums it up.
For these are the things that go “in between” the famous Ben Franklin quote, “In this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.”
So we learn to savor each day and happy moment we are given, even as we dutifully see to the need to fulfill all legal requirements.
March 13, 2013
It’s Wednesday today, right?!
March 13th
3-13-13
Hmmmmm
good thing I’m not superstitious
I trust in God above
keep moving
day by day
step by step
quietly abiding
that is all
(yet everything)
we can do
as time
marches on
March 12, 2013
The place I am in, is saying aloud, again and again, “I’m showing up.”
Sometimes, that alone is enough.
Just being present, in the moment.
Skimmed a Girl Power article in newest Time magazine today. (The March 18, 2013 issue.) One nugget jumped out, quoted as a sign that hangs in the Facebook offices (article was about Sheryl Sandberg):
“Done Is Better Than Perfect.”
That helps me, as I face so much needing done. Needed it. Gleaned it, in the time I spent waiting. Brief, though it was.
day by day
step by step
quietly abiding
that is all
(yet everything)
we can do
~ Janean
March 12, 2013
TIME magazine article link citing poster quote:
http://ideas.time.com/2013/03/07/why-i-want-women-to-lean-in/
snow flurries dance upon the wind
bird song floats from the trees
the ground is nearly thawed
now the sun is shining
the flurries already gone
on this chilly March afternoon
must be spring in Illinois
when anything can happen
just talkin’ ‘bout the weather
it’s still Lion Time
March 12, 2013
in this moment
I’m all kinds o’weepy
still wearing my fleece pajamas
with peacock adorned rain boots
(of course)
I don’t care about societal rules
pajamas smajamas, I’m not nude
just leaving the grocery store
where I bought a shamrock plant
figured I could use a l’il luck
hoping for the good kind
years ago, more than 20
my mom gave me shamrocks
for my college dorm room
that’d be four of them
‘cause a green thumb is not my gift
I’d forgotten all about ‘em
until they recently caught my eye
plant after plant
set along a deep window edge
waiting to catch sunlight
I mentioned them aloud
walking down the window lined hall
following the kind woman
one of many helping me through
she casually replied
“They are mine.”
Shamrocks
for luck
‘tis their month you know
March and all
with the fun of St. Patrick’s Day
less than a week away
soon
March 11, 2013
I walked Blue through the park this morning early, our favorite route, while a cold rain fell. As my peacock adorned rain boots hit the wet sidewalk, after we made it through and were headed on toward home, these words rang in my head in a steady rhythm:
“Grit, Steel, Grace and Love
that’s what Janean Baird is made of.”
Of course it should read, “Janean Marie Thompson Baird” but that’s too long and ruins the word flow.
I’m going to wake up the boys next and plan on unplugging as best I can to make art today, for that is the soothing balm my aching and weary soul needs most.
March 11, 2013
Turquoise Tangles 