I have been sitting here in front of this laptop in the quiet din of the living room listening to the wind whip around outdoors for some time this morning. I have so much on my mind that it jumbles and ties up my fingers. I take another sip of the hot, earthy brew and take a breath. I listen to the puppy snore from the couch. Yesterday we took him to walk at the lake at the end of the block. The wind was so strong that it bent the reeds horizontal and splashed waves high, birds held arabesque in flight. March is blowing in changes. It seems fierce, but it is cleansing.
The hardest part of changes are the ones you cannot see. Like a brilliantly crafted movie which holds us at the end of our seats. Will it end terribly and not as expected or with better than anticipated finale which leaves us cheering in our seats? I hope that this part of the journey ends like the latter. It usually does. I do like to have a plan B, plan C…plan W in my artillery but the March winds do not utter their secrets yet and I haven’t a clue what is going to happen.
Perhaps we are ahead of our time. I hate to think we are relics. The medicines we make are so effective, so beautifully crafted, so…our life. There are those that wait until a dire diagnoses and rounds of disappointing treatments before they seek us out. There are those that plain out don’t trust or cannot fathom that herbal medicines could be that good. There are those that forget we are there. There are those that love us and that we wait for behind the large shop windows. Check emails for orders. Keep the phone on. We wait. We have so much to give. But the quiet din is concerning. We don’t know ourselves if we aren’t herbalists. My daughter and I are herbalists. But the March winds have drowned out our advertisements.
I love how the raspberry pink in the loveseat cover just matches the velvet on the futon. It pleases me. In my favorite movie, “You’ve Got Mail” there is a similar sofa cover in Meg Ryan’s apartment. I used to have it. I love the décor of her home. The décor of her shop. I notice it. I decorate in my mind everywhere I go. Her shop closes in the movie, you know. And she becomes a writer. And falls in love with Tom Hanks. Everything turned out beautifully.
I created a women’s group in my community for witchy girls and we went shopping and to lunch the other day. It was a gloriously warm day and the sun shone bright. We laughed and commiserated about taxes and shopped and sipped on coffee with the sun on our faces. I drove up with Tina and afterwards we went and saw her house that is being built. The walls aren’t quite up yet so you can see where each room will be. And I hadn’t quite felt like that since I was a teenager dancing around open houses with my best friend, Susan. I haven’t seen Susan since the March winds twenty-two years ago. Decorating in my mind, dancing around a beautiful space that will be a home. The Anne of Green Gables window overlooking the ravine where the deer like to lay.
I love creating. And new beginnings. And new stories.
I hope April brings me a good story. A good sequel.