Happy Birthday from the Hospital - real life vs social media

 Tuesday was my birthday. Tuesday was also the day I went into the hospital for some cardiac testing to try to puzzle out some answers on troublesome ekgs and stress tests. So while I was waiting for my procedure I sat and read all my wonderful Facebook birthday messages.  I was sort of amused that everyone assumed I was gallivanting around, eating gourmet food with a champagne toast when instead I had been fasting before heading to the cardiac care unit. Aaah, social media self vs real life. (Although to be fair, I did not post any fake photos on my birthday.)

The operating room techs shared a slice of a fellow staffer's cake with me after my procedure!

 Happily, nothing was discovered that required surgical intervention. I am thrilled and beyond relieved. It was scary feeling like a ticking time bomb.  It was also a reminder that I need to take better care of myself.  With all the medical hi-jinks my husband has been through all I pretty much coast on the fact that I have never had high cholesterol or sugars and that even though I am overweight I "carry it well" and am fairly active physically.  Apparently that is not sufficient when one hits middle age. So off to the gym I will go.

Which was WAY tastier than the salt free dinner I got as I recovered.

 I use social media to hold myself accountable in my art practice. If I look at my feeds and see nothing new it's time to hit the studio. I also use social media to remind myself to look for beauty in the details. My son harasses me occasionally about stopping to take photos as opposed to just experiencing the moment.  I tell him by looking for photos I notice things I might not if were not looking for beauty.  I am an optimistic person that doesn't dwell on the negative in real life and I think my social media self reflects that as well.  I am annoying pragmatic and realistic 99% of the time but I think complaining or being negative is truly a waste of breath so here I am, in all my creaky middle age splendor.

Here's what 58 with no make up and new earrings looks like.  Happy birthday to me. 

PS on the 100 day project blog the night before I went into the hospital- there was a wonderful post about not beating yourself up if you missed a day or 8. My competitive self was grateful for the permission to rest. this will be Day 20 of 100. I am proud of myself for not bailing...

"For I am His and He is mine" the promise of Good Friday

 Today has been a dark day as has been my mood. Most of the East Coast is getting pummeled by quite the storm, high winds, whipping rain, the day is quite dark. I have been struggling with some health issues and lucky me I get to go in to the hospital for an exploratory procedure next week on my birthday. While the staff is apologetic they all agree it needs to be done. So I am going.

My mood ranges being sanguine and terrified. (Wait a minute, I know I am chubby but aren't I supposed to be the healthy one in the family???) I am delighted I have access to modern healthcare but yet still one worries...

What has been a comfort the last few days is songs that pop into my head.  I wish I could say I was a good enough Christian that bible verses would be ever present comfort, but ahem, that is not quite true. Instead what appears are Christian rock tunes and sacramental songs.  This morning I was getting ready to go on my walk and the modern hymn "In Christ Alone" popped into my head and wouldn't leave.  I sang it through about three times. This song is cathartic.  I can't say it was all good because the song moves me to tears, literal tears every time I hear it.  I have sung this song at Sunday services, at a wedding, at funerals, even at a concert featuring the composer.  Every. Single Time. It makes me cry.  And I am not a crier. But it's a reminder, what ever the outcome, it's all good. Especially on Good Friday.

The lyrics are below.

If you would like to read the story behind this song or hear it played click here.

“In Christ alone my hope is found;

He is my light, my strength, my song;

This cornerstone, this solid ground,

Firm through the fiercest drought and storm.

What heights of love, what depths of peace,

When fears are stilled, when strivings cease!

My comforter, my all in all—

Here in the love of Christ I stand.

In Christ alone, Who took on flesh,

Fullness of God in helpless babe!

This gift of love and righteousness,

Scorned by the ones He came to save.

Till on that cross as Jesus died,

The wrath of God was satisfied;

For ev’ry sin on Him was laid—

Here in the death of Christ I live.

There in the ground His body lay,

Light of the world by darkness slain;

Then bursting forth in glorious day,

Up from the grave He rose again!

And as He stands in victory,

Sin’s curse has lost its grip on me;

For I am His and He is mine—

Bought with the precious blood of Christ.

No guilt in life, no fear in death—

This is the pow’r of Christ in me;

From life’s first cry to final breath,

Jesus commands my destiny.

No pow’r of hell, no scheme of man,

Can ever pluck me from His hand;

Till He returns or calls me home—

Here in the pow’r of Christ I’ll stand.”

— IN CHRIST ALONE" WORDS AND MUSIC BY KEITH GETTY & STUART TOWNEND COPYRIGHT © 2002 THANKYOU MUSIC(PRS) ADM WORLDWIDE AT CAPITOLCMGPUBLISHING.COM EXCLUSING EUROPE WHICH IS ADM BY INTEGRITYMUSIC.COM

Taking a leap.

If you had told me a year ago I would systematically be breaking down the physical organization I've so carefully built out of over 8 years I would have laughed. But time marches forward.

Leap year is an odd occurrence. A calender course correction to keep the world on its proverbial axis. Funny then that I am making momentous decisions in a leap year.

The last couple of years have been rough at the shop. Vendors have come and gone. Large scale neighborhood  construction projects have wreaked havoc not on just the physical landscape (read losing a week's revenue when the ceiling caved in from them piledriving the footers of the 5 story building across the street) but the PERCEPTION that there were traffic delays caused by construction (there were not). That tiny fall-off in revenue - a $50 invoice rather than a fifty five dollar ticket is the difference in me taking a salary or not.

Add to this a landlord who did not respond to rent abatement entreaties and a city that neglected to factor the impact multiple large scale construction projects have on its small businesses and neglected to ask for impact fees and a lease that expired and I am out. Done.

My husband and I refuse to be one of those yahoos you see on those TV shows like "Restaurant Impossible" who are working 70 hours a week and are 100 thousand dollars in debt. That is not going to happen here.

So sadly I am vacating a space that has become, for many, a Third Place- not home, not work, but a place where someone knows your name and you feel safe, amused, maybe even delighted and inspired.

I feel confident that my ability to create this Third Place is not building dependent. A community can be built and flourish in many different forms.

I love eye contact myself though. Don't leave me.

Losing the building will mean gaining other things. Freedom from the daily routine and new found time to write and create perhaps.

I am feeling the crushing feeling of letting people down, of not taking care of the tribe. But I look around at my neglected house, my almost grown child and feel compelled to re-engage. Phone calls with news of less than wonderful health reports from beloveds remind me that there is more than just minding the store.

The volume of the tasks ahead are daunting. But the options are many, almost too many.

It's time to leap.