August 22, 2009
Construction began early this morning. As I slowly became conscious of the bustling outside my window, I remembered it was Saturday……didn’t these guys get a day off? I reached for my phone, the only indication in my simple little bedroom of what time it is. Ugh! 6:45 in the morning….. REALLY? I rolled out of my bed and pulled the covers back into place. There would be no temptation to slip back into a Saturday morning snuggle today. I plopped myself in front of my laptop and searched for any updates from yesterdays conversations among my cyber friends. Nothing…sigh….. Well, I guess I will tackle those dishes from last night. Outside my kitchen window I could see the large crew amassing rapidly. I determined from the ladders and other tools that today was the day they would be removing the roof. I was living through a remodel of a 1950’s home and life was anything but calm, with the remodel or my personal life. Ladders in place, team accounted for….game on…..let the banging begin. The pounding started, the scraping commenced, and the saws began to buzz. I was disappointed that I would not be enjoying my ritual, leisurely Saturday morning bubble bath. I took a deep breath and stepped back from all the chaos that had begun around me….not physically but in my mind. What a beautiful metaphor this was for what I was going through. I determined I would take my relaxing Saturday morning bath anyway. I ran the water and slipped into the bubbles, losing myself in the warm water that enveloped me. The banging continued, the scraping increased, I even noticed shadows of shingles being tossed off the roof past my morning respite. The saw was quite literally 4 feet from where my head rested and yet if I focused hard enough I could hear the music from my Ipod. I had turned it on shuffle and trusted it would know what I needed. The volume was low as to not rival the crew outside, concentrating deeply I could hear the sweet voice of Belinda Carlisle telling me that “Heaven was a place on Earth”. Of course a huge smile broke out across my face as I mused at the wonderful surprise my angels had brought. They walked with me often, reminding me of the simple abundance that dances all around me. I reflected on the metaphor I was living and realized that as chaos and destruction are raging all around me, I have the ability to be still and focus on the peace within…..at this moment I will be able to hear my music, the song of my heart and I will surely KNOW. Just as this house is going through an extensive remodel and parts of it must be torn down, so must I go through a tear down. But, there are blue prints, also, there is an architect in charge and like a butterfly making its metamorphosis, this home and my soul will emerge in perfect time, as the masterpiece that our creator had in mind for both of us. As I finished my bath I noticed the construction had gotten louder but I had been so deeply still in my thoughts within, I only noticed the warm notes of Alabama singing, “Feels so Right” to my heart. I know there is something greater than me, guiding me, leading me, and teaching me to fly. How different my morning evolved into because of the choice I made to create heaven on earth for myself. I reflect back on this journal entry and see that it began with me allowing outside forces to determine my mood. Still searching outside myself I looked for friends online to fill my emptiness inside but to no avail. It was only when I determined to take action towards the peace I wanted that I was able to create the world around me. So it is with all of us, we blame others for where we are and what we are going through but really it is up to us to surrender to peace within and allow the still moments to paint the masterpiece that we become each day, for we are all connected in a great tear down with ourselves as the architect to build something fabulous!
August 22….my journal entry
August 22, 2009
One thought on “August 22….my journal entry”
You are so right! We create our own happiness or sadness. Others contribute to it, either way, accordingly, but in the end, we are the architects of our lives.
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