Spring flowers have faded and dried. Poppies and daisies bow their heads full of promise for next years flowers. The first flush of spring roses have passed, now just an occasional bloom braves the summer season.
The winter and spring rains have abated leaving grassy fields, freshly mown, to mellow into their golden summer hue.
Summer has taken over at my house, my yard. Though the spring lush has passed, the summer lavender explodes from its broad sage-green mounds, blooms ready for the harvesting.
California poppies sneak in their garden color amongst the Oregano, white and purple, their contrast copied, I'm sure, directly from the perfect color wheel.
It's time. Time to move on and embrace the blessings of summer while they're here. For its long days are already shortening and will soon slide into fall, then winter. And before I know it, it'll be spring again and I want to be ready. But now I need to soak up summer, for that's how I can prepare for the seasons to come. Being emotionally and physically present in the current season upon the earth, and in my life, being aware of what it has to give and allowing it to press into my soul, teaches me what I need to learn for the coming seasons. I need the lessons of the present in order to be strong and available for new challenges the future will inevitably bring.
Thank God nature is never in a rush, cuz I need all the training time I can get.
I thought I'd share these rambling thoughts I strung together last week while we were in Vancouver, BC...
Downtown Vancouver, Early Morning
Its Wednesday, September 10, 2014. I'm sitting in the floor-to-ceiling corner windows of our condo at the Worldmark, The Canadian, on Hornby St., in downtown Vancouver, BC, Canada. I'm gazing out over the city 22 floors above the fray.
For most people, today is a work day, but for me, it's day 5 of our vacation. It's 7:30AM. I got up about 6:30AM. I didn't have to get up so early. It is my vacation, after all. But for some reason, it's easier to get up earlier when I don't have to. I look forward to getting up early when I am not obligated to anyone but myself. I don't have to plan ahead for work. I don't have to pack a lunch or fix a breakfast. I just have to hang out with my cup of coffee and myself. I love solitude. Especially in the morning
I've often wondered what it would be like living in such a saturated urban setting as this. I imagine a condo with a nice terrace, the kind that's tucked safely within the structure of the building, but with a view out across the city toward the water, or right on the water even. There would be enough space on my terrace for several potted trees and some flowers with comfortable, loung-y furniture. It would be partially covered so I could bundle up and sit out and watch it rain or snow, and partially uncovered so I could warm myself in the sun when I wanted to. I would write out there on my terrace.
It would be conveniently located so I could walk every where I needed to go and leave the car at home. I love the freedom of walking where I need to go. It's simple. I would just need to remember when shopping to choose carefully for I will need to hand carry my purchases back home. Or I could invest in a rolling cart - be one of those rolling cart ladies I see around.
Ideally my condo would face east/south/west so I can wake up with the sun and follow it through my day. Inside, there would be two bedrooms and two bathrooms. One would be a master bedroom for Ron and I with an en-suite, good size closet and perhaps a cozy private sitting area, the other room would be an office/guest room with a Murphy bed. The living/dining/kitchen would be one large room with a view out the floor-to-ceiling windows toward my city/water view and sliding glass doors opening to the terrace. The decor would be my current favorite, a balance of modern and ancient/rustic.
There is just one thing, the city is a constantly noisy place and I am truly a country girl at heart. Traffic, garbage trucks, numerous sirens, and this one hot-rod car that regularly zooms up and down Hornby several times a day; I would definitely need regular forays into nature (perhaps even a cabin on the edge of the land where it meets the sea). But there's a vibrancy in the city that wakes me up and keeps me alert, makes me think, causes me to want to learn new things, keeps me on my toes. Living in a simple condo type manner, I think, would allow me to pursue some of the ventures I've been wanting to explore for a very long time; like learning a new language and getting my writing career off the ground, to name two.
Would I be able to find a writing place within my condo? I'm sure I could carve out a little space. I've done so today. I love this little spot in the corner window. I've learned that I don't need a lot of space, just some emotional space within a space. Just enough removed from the fray, yet still connected to the whole of it.
And it's funny-strange, yet true, that though I am definitely refreshed and restored and nurtured by nature, I tend to be distracted by it's beauty and feel a strange longing to possess it, as if I could; or feel it wants to possess me. While in the city, somehow I'm a part of it yet anonymous enough to be free of it and it's possessions, whether they be physical or emotional.
Both are inside me. The city and the country. The contained and the wild. They are both a part of who I am. I will always crave the mountains and the water but I'm feeling, and admitting, that there's a part of me that also longs for the city.
Like most humans, I think I want it all, but I'm also learning that "all" is not what I really want. What I really want is freedom from complicated living, freedom from the pursuit of "things", freedom from debt, freedom to pursue my dreams without being pushed and pulled around by what I've formerly believed that I "should" be doing.
My priorities have gradually been changing over the last few years. And now I'm at a place where I want to declutter my life. When I get home I want to go through my house room by room and get rid of the stuff that I don't need, but especially the stuff that has an emotional hold on me. I want to either give it away, sell it or re-create it into the creations I envision in my head.
There's nothing, really, that's stopping me from doing this. Except myself and what I think or how I think.
It won't be easy, I know. But, with thoughtfulness, patience, and consistency - ironically, three of my weakest traits - I can do this. During the process I will be exercising and strengthening my inner self; the end result, I believe, will be "true" freedom. I will have learned a great deal about myself, gained confidence in myself, rebalanced a lopsided sense of myself and corrected beliefs I have held about the world, both physically and spiritually. There will be more room inside of me to hold what God desires for me to have.
Yes, all of the above is so very valid. This is what I know today. I'm traveling on a path and I can only see far enough ahead for today. Tomorrow I hope to have learned something new. I, hopefully, will have been drawn closer to God. My life will be different tomorrow, tonight, even. I don't know what I don't know. But tomorrow I will be closer.
This morning, across two fields of grass, I saw an apple fall from our neighbor's tree. I was just sitting on my couch staring out the window toward their house with my coffee cup in hand and happened to see an apple fall from one of their trees. Now, how was it that I happened to have my eyes focused on that particular spot at the exact time that apple let loose from that tree? If I had just blinked I would have missed it.
How many times do we find ourselves in situations or experience an event, large or small, that, had we just altered our actions just a tiny bit, we would have missed?
I had surgery last Friday to remove a cyst from my back. Just prior to that it was infected so I had to wait to have it removed until the infection cleared. It took about a month which seemed like forever. But had my surgeon removed it before it was time, it could have been a lot worse.
This morning I woke up to a heavy rain. It came just in time to water my garden. Because of the surgery last Friday I have to be careful not to bust my stitches by doing too much. I waited as long as possible before I had to get out there and water the garden. But today it rained. And rained in abundance. So not only did it thoroughly water the garden but it filled up the birdbath to water the birdies. Just when I needed help. Just in the nick of time.
Shooting stars. Do they "just happen" to cross my line of sight? Do I "just happen" look up at just the right time, just in the nick of time to see them?
I look at that apple tree across two fields just in the nick of time to see one apple fall. Surgery happens at exactly the right time. Gardens and birdies, and even me are cared for at exactly the right time. Shooting stars perfectly timed.
Could someone greater than me be in charge?
That's just it. With exquisite timing, beyond my understanding, His universe revolves. The stars align to sing of His might. And He gets lil' ole me where He wants me to be so He can take care of me, bless me and teach me.
He answers my prayers in His timing not mine, when my faith and trust in Him have been fully exercised. He doesn't rely on my strength to accomplish His purposes. Sometimes He just outright blesses me. Sometimes He allows me to come to the end of myself.
This is a blessing, when my faith is tested, my strength and determination exhausted, for then He is at His strongest. He asks me to follow His instructions for living, obey Him, lean into Him, for then he can bless me by showing me the perfectly timed beauty of a falling apple, a shooting star, the incredible way He works through the nimble hands of a surgeon. And perfectly timed rain.
Be at peace today. All things happen in their time. And time belongs to our God.
Because my body has been hurting in various place for such a long time, I've been reading a lot of self-help websites on both physical and mental health. From what to feed my body, mind and spirit, to how to think about and accept my body, mind and spirit, to how to exercise my body, mind and spirit.
Tuning in to know when your body, mind and spirit are hungry, sad, tired, lonely, thirsty etc etc., is a really good and necessary thing - like recognizing when to remove your hand from that hot burner on the stove - and when I apply the suggestions and advice that resonate with me, it's helpful and I'm even successful in accomplishing a goal here and there, especially when I stick to the advice and stay consistent in applying the suggestions.
But sometimes there's a deeper thing going on inside my soul. A rumbling and tumbling of something trying to be seen and heard and felt. Or fed. A craving for deep knowledge that I sense but haven't known. Ancient wisdom. Ancient memories clambering to be remembered.
Most of the time I ignore those noises, tune them out because when I take the time to look inside myself to see what's going on, I see, not a "thing", but a person. A little girl longing to be fed with love and attention; acceptance and approval. She looks up at me with big, sad, brown eyes and she breaks my heart. So I don't look. I just feed her with food to dull her senses and lull her to sleep.
The thing is, she always wakes back up. And she's always hungry.
I'm not sure why I don't just give her what she truly needs, what will truly nourish her. I want to. I want her to be healthy, happy and alive. I want her to finally grow up to be big and strong, lead a fulfilling life and be who she was created to be. So what's stopping me?
This is terrible to feel and say, but it's easier to let her languish hidden away and allow the distractions and pushes and pulls of everyday life to drown out her plea. It's a sacrifice on my part to pull up the patience required to listen and pay attention to her needs, take the time to cook and feed her healthy food, call her forth, invite her out to play, teach her how to be a woman, explain to her the ways of life.
It can be a tough world out here. Is she strong enough to survive? I'm afraid for her. Afraid she'll be criticized, scrutinized and found lacking; put down, beaten up, poked in the nose. Would she be able to stand up for herself? Defend herself?
Honestly, it frightens me, even though I know she has what it takes to do this. She already has everything within her necessary to live and thrive. And it's apparent by the racket she's making down there that she wants to come out and give it a go.
So perhaps it's me who needs to swallow hard, buck up and have a little faith. I gotta let go sometime. Every parent does. I can't protect her forever. She has to endure the skirmishes of life and push against the hard things and test herself in order to become strong and beautiful and knowledgeable about herself and the world. She has to learn to have faith herself and grow in wisdom, and experience the good things in this world and know the satisfaction of coming full circle by offering to others what she's learned.
I know there's only one love greater than the love I can give to that little brown-eyed girl, and that's the love given by The Creator who fashioned and formed her. So, to Him I must look, who is above, inside and all around her. In Him is where I will find the courageous love I need to call her forth. He is the Ancient Wisdom and the Holder of Ancient Memories from Whom I must draw. He has the instructions I need to quiet her rumblings and tumblings.
So when she comes out I must point her to Him, put her in His capable hands and have the faith that He will take care to lead and guide and protect her. And I do know He will.
This is a simple post about being thankful, grateful. Something I have to continually remind myself to be. I have a few aches and pains in my body that can get me down, and a few of my "very important dreams" remain unfulfilled. But, even so, I need, want, to be thankful.
Today, I want to list, actually write down, what I'm thankful for:
* Good hearing
* A good mind
* The ability to express myself
* The strength and ability to care for myself
* A loving husband
* Family and friends who love me and whom I can love back
* A solid home; warm, safe, with a pretty garden I'm still strong enough to work in; and it's close enough to the water for me to hear, like right now, the fog horns out in the Strait.
* A washer and dryer - right inside my house
* Running water
* In-door toilets - 2 of them!
* Trash pick-up service
* A good job with a fair and appreciative boss - he sends me home on occasion, with a really good bottle of wine
* Satisfaction of doing the best job I can at work
* Ideas and dreams
* A fair amount of compassion
* More wisdom now than I had 10 years ago - 5 years ago, or yesterday even!
* The ticking grandfather clock in my living room that reminds me of my mother, though I don't need that to remember her, every day I think of her.
* My father, too
Hey! Did you see what happened? This is such an incomplete list and I wrote these down in no particular order, just as they came to mind, but one thought would spark another, which led to another. As if they were all connected. Isn't that amazing?
And look, watch this! I could greatly expand on each one of them. Each one could be a category all in themselves, such as:
* A loving husband who is... faithful; kind even when speaking a truth I don't want to hear; rises early in the morning and goes to work every day so we can enjoy food, shelter, entertainment; wise; strong; an excellent spiritual leader in our home; honest; respectful; intelligent; loves God...
* Good hearing to... hear the clock in my living room, the fog horns in the Strait; the wind in the trees; my friends encouragement; the words that come out of my own mouth; the birds chirping; the rain tapping on the window panes...
And did you notice? Each item in each category could become a sub-category all in itself.
Thankfulness surrounds us. Thankfulness begets thankfulness. When I list my "thankfuls", I see how wealthy I truly am... hummm...
Okay, so... buh bye for now... I'm gonna go think up some more, embrace 'em all - and become a bizillionaire!
She's tall, wide, accommodating and 50' long. She carried us safely from Anacortes to Roche Harbor in just a few hours.
Pushing off from the dock, it was cloudy, but by the time we pulled into Roche Harbor the sun was out and stayed with us until it set the trees in silhouette that evening.
Motoring between islands large and small, with tip-of-the-iceberg like rock outcroppings here and there, we gawked our way, binoculars ever in hand, past homes, other boats and ferries. A small, woodsy cabin here, a captain's cottage there, some nestled in trees by the water, some open to the sun; some with companion yachts moored at their long and languorous private docks, extending their domain into the sea; one home with pink flamingos - yes, even out here there has to be one - and this one had two pairs sitting on the waterside, a classic stick figure version, only very tall, stretched high to be seen; and the other pair a blow up version resembling huge beached floaty's waiting with silly-smiley grins for their children to come play.
Come late afternoon, securely anchored, embraced by the island arms of Roche Harbor, we relaxed in the cockpit of the Tani Kaye, the little coffee table laden with snacks of salmon spread, pita chips, veggies and wine - with nothing at all to whine about. Later, an easy dinner of BBQ burgers, potato salad and chips.
At sundown, the dusky evening brought blasts and a boom, and air horns blowing all around, as the tradition of ceremony saluted the retiring of the colors honoring "Our America" and our neighborly Canadian friends.
Right now, looking out over the water I see a sea of anchor lights marking the location of each boat at anchor in the harbor. The fringe of trees at the top of the islands are all that remains of the silhouette against the darkening western sky. Lights of houses on the hillsides illuminate the spaces and occupants within.
Bobbing, bobbing, flowing with the winds of the currents. The moon, a little more that half full, casts it's arrow of light, only slightly rippled by a gentle breeze, across the water pointing directly in my direction, pointing to me.
My boating companions down below laughing, joking, dice in a cup - shakelshakelshakel crussshc! - as they spill onto the table. Apparently Paul's the winner of this round.
Sounds of laughing, joyous merrymaking float my way from boats across the water. We are almost still now. The water is calm. The sky almost dark. I am getting drowsy. Rock me to sleep, sweet Tani Kaye. Let me wake to the sunrise in the early morn.
This Memorial Day I attended one of the most moving ceremony's I've ever been to. At our Sequim View Cemetery, veterans and civilians honored our fallen soldiers with prayers and poems, flags and flowers. The day was beautiful, a slight breeze, cool, with Sequim's classic "blue-hole", of blue sky and sun and big clouds moving by.
In attendance were my loving husband, Ron; two sister-in-laws; one with husband who served in the Air Force in the 70's; one with husband in a grave near the base of the flag just in front of where we stood, who was committed to serve in the Reserves; one of her sons just home from his second tour in the Army, the first being in the Navy like his Grampa; and one nephew with wife and two children.
Also in attendance were memories of my father, Ellis, who patrolled our western and southern borders in the Cavalry on his horse named Rony, during World War II; my cousin who cooked on the front lines in Viet Nam; my father-in-law who served in the Navy; two more nephews recently returned from the Middle East; a niece serving as an Army medical professional; a nephew-in-law who gave his all in the Army; another brother-in-law who also served in the Army; another nephew who served in the Marines; and the many Veterans who come through our doors at work where it's an honor to serve them.
My goodness, have I forgotten anyone? I hope not.
As the ceremony began, people gathered around the tall American flag in the military section. I was compelled to stand with my nephew recently home. I couldn't bear that he stand alone, by himself. I tucked my arm inside of his and held on. I needed him. Together we watched the ceremony.
At one point, an elderly gentleman veteran directly in front of us, standing at attention, holding the flag, tottered a bit when a strong breeze caught it. I wanted to reach out and steady him but knew it was his to do. It was his honor. His determination to stand at attention and support his flag demonstrated it was his honor. I felt his strength, the same strength I imagine him exerting as he fought the enemy, and won, when he was young.
Protocol and order. Somber faces atop bodies at attention. Hats removed and replaced at proper times. Taps played... and tears.
I am surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses whose eyes have seen the atrocities of war, whose ears have been blown out by the unbelievable blasts of bombs, whose minds and hearts come home changed in ways I cannot fathom. I've never heard any veteran willingly chatter on and on about their experience. I imagine their feelings are too deep to even express.
A few of my above people escaped the battlefields, but each one in their faithful duty stood between me and the enemy. Each one contributed to my safety and protection. Each one made their sacrifice. That word seems so small compared to their act. And that doesn't even take into account the spouse, child, brother, sister who released their loved one into service with a heart full of emotion and prayers. The only reference point I have is when my father passed away. I was speechless, my heart in my throat, so full of unutterable sorrow.
Whether it be a family member or a friend, most everyone has been touched by war at sometime in their lives. A "thank you" seems inadequate. They gave their whole selves, how can I thank them enough?
The only thing I can do, I think, is to receive their gift and incorporate into my life the freedom they preserved. Enjoy fully the life I have been given. I can move forward in love and appreciation and value what's truly important, which is family, friends, people. I can pray for this country and it's people, for a country is nothing without it's people, for as long as I am a citizen here.
And I must remember... to never forget.
"One day at a time, sweet Jesus
That's all I'm askin' from You.
Just give me the strength to do everyday
What I have to do..."
That's what was in my head this morning when I woke up. Marilyn Sellars sings the perfect scratchy vinyl version on youtube. (I'd publish a link to it for you if I could figure out how. Still working on the techno part of this blog). But, it's interesting that a song will sound in my head at just the time that I need a little encouragement. My friend calls it a "companion song". That's a perfect description. I could use a companion right now.
Sometimes I feel overwhelmed with life. Like today. I'm working on two very big projects at the same time, the garden revamp project and the re-do the guest bedroom project, both of which need my full attention. At the same time, I look around and see all the other garden projects waiting for me. Then I look around the house and see the purge the linen closet project, the reorganize the pantry project and then there's the Garage with a Capital G project where all the extraneous things from the previous projects pile up. Projects, projects everywhere!! Arghhh! Maybe I shouldn't look around so much.
I have to remind myself that they don't all have to be done immediately and I can set aside the jumble and overwhelm and just focus on one thing at a time. Like getting the guest room done before our family arrives this weekend, and then our friends after that. Everything else can line up for second place. Except the plants my friend gave me. They have to be planted several days before yesterday.
Oh dear, what's a girl to do? Well, first off, she shouldn't panic. What's the worst that could happen? The plants will languish in wait, the weeds will keep growing, the pantry and linen closet will remain unchanged and the guest room will be just a mattress on the floor. The only thing possibly harmed in this scenario would be the plants. Which may now be dead.
Okay... so what's the best that could happen? Everything could magically get done and done perfectly without me exerting any energy whatsoever either physically or mentally. Or I could move forward and calmly apply my gifts and talents to accomplish the tasks before me and learn to enjoy the process of "living in the midst life", and understand that it's ok to feel the pressure and pull of life's inevitable events, big and small, for there are blessings to be reaped from that.
Since I don't believe in magic and I need to exercise my "moving forward skills", and I am motivated by love and the deadline is just two days away, I think my choice is pretty clear. The most important thing for me to focus on today is the guest room because that most closely involves relationship and love. No, my family and friends don't need a fancy guest room to sleep in while they're here but I love them and I'm so happy they want to visit, and it's a blessing for them, and for me, to be able to provide them a comfortable and pleasant place to rest.
So, there. Thanks for helping me sort this out. I know what I must do. I'm gonna get those plants in the ground!! <kidding> They'll be fine. And though there are love and blessings to be had in accomplishing the myriad other tasks I could do around the house, today I'm gonna go for the guest room kind.
I've finally come to realize that it's okay if others don't agree with my opinions or the way I conduct my life. To some my life may seem random, without focus or purpose. It seems that way to me sometimes for I have not accomplished any great thing, by the world's standards. But I have been married to the same man for 38 straight years-in-a-row-one-right-after-the-other, and we like each other better now than when we married. That's so amazing, especially when I think of those difficult times when we could have chosen to separate. Each time we chose to work it out. Those were the best decisions I ever made.
I believe all things work together for the good of those whose hearts are seeking after God. All of the things and events that have happened to us, all the choices we've made in our lives, the things that make up our individual histories, are all integrated into the people we are today. The good, the bad and the ugly, to quote a famous saying.
Problems may occur if we deny those events, decisions, choices. In fact, I'm going to be bold and say that problems will occur if we deny our past. Like our Creator YHWH, we are made body, soul and spirit to reflect Him, Father, Son, Spirit; yet in a mystery yet to be fully understood, integrated into one. If we have unresolved issues hidden in our hearts it affects our entire being and eventually those deep things will work their way up like rocks in the ground work their way to the surface to bend the blades on our lawnmowers.
We have to accept the choices we've made and make amends if we need to and are able. That means we need to ask for forgiveness from God and others, or extend forgiveness, even if it's <gasp!> God we need to forgive. We also need to forgive ourselves. Forgiveness is the great releaser. It frees us to let go of the event, removes the hook from our heart that continually catches us so we are free to be healed and move forward into life.
This does not mean, however, that we can flaunt the bad or even good choices we've made in life, for that demonstrates pride in ourselves and shows we find our identity in our hardships or accomplishments; or our accomplishment in overcoming our hardships; or in ourselves, a tenuous being who is changing every day. But neither should we deny them if we are to be whole and available to engage with others and embrace life in our present.
Measure by measure, freedom comes from the balance of embracing our past tempered with living honestly before God, ourselves and others. If someone asks, tell them the truth, using wisdom as to how much you tell them. Some are unable to handle the whole truth all at once.
This is a process that is never complete, will never be complete. For the rest of our lives there will always be another rock that will surface. This, too, is something we must accept. This is one facet of how a life must be lived. Acceptance of our past coupled with the pursuit and allowance of healing will birth a life well-lived with as few regrets as possible.
I really did know what I was getting into when I decided to tear out all the lupine in the driveway circle. We had done it once before. It is hard, dirty, frustrating work ripping out those dead, dry, brittle plants whose tap roots can be up to 3 feet long and, I don't know, 8" around at the top tapering down to a point at the 3' mark. They are really pretty and green in the spring producing beautiful yellow bract-like flowers and when massed together are very attractive. But when the flowers fade into dry seed pods, they literally explode and shoot the seeds everywhere to ensure next years crop. Then the plants seriously degrade into dry, brown, scraggly messes. Lupine are very invasive and very persistent. So I knew I had my work cut out for me and I had a plan to transform the scrubby circle into a lush example of nature's beauty.
After working for a day by myself, my strong hubby, Ron, volunteered to help. Every difficult job goes easier with a buddy, and in one mighty and valiant effort, we cleared 3/4 of the circle before we ran out of oomph. We still had to haul the mess back to the burn pile and thankfully I was inspired with the idea to work smarter, as they say, and use the truck to deliver them to their fiery fate. Brilliant!
So now there was only a "little bit" left for me to finish up the next day while Ron went to work. I thought, "No prob. I can handle this bit", and tore into it with great optimism, in spite of the soreness from yesterdays effort. After only about 15 minutes of slipping down the sloping side of the circle, attempting to effectively wield my shovel against those evil shrubs whose cantankerous and mischievous tap roots invade the plumbing systems of China to tickle the bums of proper Chinese ladies, and whose branches fight back slapping me in the face, smearing dirt in my hair, shoes and down my shirt stuffing what little available space remains in my bra, I was exhausted. I plopped down on the log bench under the maple tree in tears. "Why am I doing this? I just wanna be done. This is so freaking hard! What are you trying to teach me?"
After I caught my breath a bit and got over myself, a few thoughts began to surface inside from the place where God speaks to me. They went like this: "Are you really going to let these measly shrubs defeat you? You are smarter and stronger and tougher than they are. Look inside, find your strength. Be persistent and complete the job."
Persist. Persistent. Persistence. Continue despite opposition. Endure, recur (do it again). (Webster's Dictionary).
The word stuck out like a cross between a spanking and a pat on the back. Is that a definition for life in general or what? Life can sometimes give us a spanking and make us cry. Things don't always come easy. Especially the good stuff. I had to pull myself out of myself and make the sacrifice to finish the job I wanted to do. Most everything requires a sacrifice. Of time, of energy, of money, of love, of strength, of endurance, of ego, pain, forgiveness, of, of, of...
It's just so plain freaking, hard sometimes but we have to persist, make the sacrifice and move forward. Even if it's just pulling up one root at a time with a slip back down only to have to climb back up to do it again. But it's worth it. Worth the big and little sacrifices. Opposition and persistence make us strong and, when we look back to see how far we've come, brings fulfillment and satisfaction to our hearts.
And this is important, we have to remember that when life spanks us we need to give ourselves a pat on the back by looking around to see how much we've accomplished, how far we've come. It's an immediate reward and encourages us to continue, to "recur", to do it again. There will always be another opportunity to exercise persistence. My next opportunity is at hand. I must complete the job I started, finish the clean up and replanting. When it's all done, and it'll take a while, I'll have to persist in it, I can look back, remember what it was, see what it is and, with "recurring persistent patience", imagine what it will become.