Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery that it is. In the boredom and pain of it no less than in the excitement and gladness: touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it because in the last analysis all moments are hidden moments and life itself is grace.
I am changing my blog’s name to fit the direction I want to take it, and my writing. There will still be plenty of photography, and if anyone should be interested in making a purchase, just click on “Gingerfancy Photography” above the blog header. To read more about why I am changing the name, and how it fits with the past history of the blog, please keep reading. Also refer to the pinned post at the top of the blog, the quote by Frederich Buechner.
Welcome! I’m Barbara and one thing I want to make clear straight away is that I am determined to live a full, generous, and creative life, one filled with love and laughter, despite chronic pain and disability. This is a good time to plug in one of my favorite quotes, by Joseph Campbell:
We must be willing to let go of the life we planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.
I have to admit that I think I may finally be coming to this acceptance and letting go that Campbell speaks of. Someday, maybe, I will find this acceptance. but not yet. Almost three years ago I graduated with a hard-earned Master’s in Theology and planned to work as a hospital or hospice chaplain. My dream for…oh, about twenty years, ever since the first time I tried to get my Master’s and did a chaplaincy internship. Back then I had to drop out because of my fibromyalgia. I had thought, after intensive treatment at a pain clinic, that I was fit enough for graduate school…and I was, despite struggles with fibromyalgia and episodic migraines, and bouts of depression, until I was in a mild fender-bender that led to whiplash and neck surgery and chronic migraines. And then there are the dizzy spells that make me black out and fall down. In October of 2015, I fainted and broke my foot in several places, which (naturally) required two surgeries to repair. And there is the myofascial pain syndrome too. So, the chaplaincy is not happening. Actually work, in ministry or not, is not happening.
While I adore my husband (patience of a saint, and a sense of humor too–absolute necessities for a life with me) and I love being a doggie-mama, both George and I had hoped for a few children of the less furry kind, that (hopefully) could walk on two legs instead of four. Alas, that was not to be, and so I keep Kleenex in business and cry whenever I pass the baby clothes section at Target. I keep hoping that God has some plans to use us in some parenting capacity…because everything else I can accept, but not this. Never this.
But I digress. In one way I am lucky: my two passions are words and images. Writing and photography. Journaling, blogging, writing, shooting with my camera, playing with editing my photographs. I can express myself, explore my world, find my God, search for grace, for beauty, for love. I dig into stories of discouragement and heartbreak, of contentment and joy, of love and grief and what it means to be human. And photographs about finding grace in the little things–like flowers (always, lots and lots of flowers!) puppies, and sitting on the rocky shore of Lake Superior and, old letters written by my grandmother in the 1930s… I have experienced a lot of dark places but often I find that grace shines through, although it takes me a while to see it. In my hospital room, in the dark of night, in my struggles with childlessness, in my worst nightmares, when I buried my parents…all of these are places where I have experienced God’s presence in special ways. And more and more, I have come to think that the people who love us, whether friends, family, teachers, neighbors, etc., show something of God’s love for us…
It often requires a conscious effort on my part to notice these everyday wonders, and tell the truth, there are days I can’t see them at all. I’m not a saint, pain makes me irritable and gloomy and bitter and resentful (on my worst days, and I have many of them). It’s been years since I have felt “well” or had a day without pain. Sometimes I feel as though my entire youth was stolen from me…and then I remind myself how much fun I’ve had in spite of it all, and how blessed I was to meet my husband, to have a circle of supportive friends, to find a fantastically awesome parish that has represented the best of the Catholic Church to me.
This is my life. This is my one life, the only one I will ever get. As a favorite poet, Mary Oliver asks, “…tell me, what is it you plan to do/ with your one wild and precious life?”In the final analysis, I refuse to live an unlived life. Let’s be real here. I have many bad days when I’m trapped in bed and unable to write or do anything else because of a migraine. There are times I get so lonely from being stuck at home all of the time I want to grab the first stranger I see walking past the house and drag them inside, tie them up, and force them to talk to me.
I still make a conscious, deliberate choice to seek out the blessings in the chaos and the pain, the small miracles, the graces. And there I have not been disappointed. I’ve also found activities that nourish my soul, my mind, my heart–photography, writing, nature, reading, gardening (when my back and neck can stand it–about ten or fifteen minutes a time, and then I risk being laid up the rest of the day!), prayer and meditation.
So I’m writing this blog for you, my fellow spoonies of all sizes, shapes, and ages; and I’m writing this for you, my darling photography friends who keep me going with your encouragement: and most of all I’m writing this for you, my beloved friends and family, because I love you, and I want to share my world with you.
It is spring again. The earth is like a child that knows poems by heart.
Rainer Maria Rilke
Another turn of the calendar page means meteorological winter is over, and spring has (technically) sprung! Despite the mountains of snow in our backyard…at least they are melting. The daily high temperatures are above freezing. Fiona gets to frolic in the mud, something that warms the heart of every dog. And the stores are full of spring flowers!
Goodbye February, at least I had pretty flower photographs to post, despite the record-setting snowfalls outside!
It’s cold. And changing my antidepressant from Cymbalta (which was helping my fibromyalgia but had quit helping my depression) to Fetzima (vice versa) isn’t helping my grumpy mood any. I have developed strange food cravings (carbs, sugar, and more carbs) and I am frighteningly grateful for cable TV and Law & Order reruns.
Lucky for me, I have a husband and dog to snuggle with when it’s cold and snowy outside.
A snowy, chilly, February Saturday…I’ve spent the afternoon snuggling with Fiona (our cocker spaniel) on the couch, drinking hot chocolate–with lots of marshmallows, of course–and reading my new book about the Nazi Occupation of Paris, Les Parisiennes: Resistance, Collaboration, and the Women of Paris Under Nazi Occupation, by Anne Sebba. I love it so far, and highly recommend it, Sebba has an engaging narrative style that truly makes her prose come to life.
I’m looking forward to getting my husband back after tomorrow. He’s a photojournalist with our local NBC affiliate, and Minneapolis is hosting the Super Bowl this year (tomorrow!), so he’s been putting in 12+ hour days for over a week now covering all of the Super Bowl hoopla and festivities downtown. This is going to be the coldest Super Bowl ever (yay Minnesota!) so I imagine there will be lots of (spiked?) hot chocolate consumed tomorrow. 🙂 #SuperBowlLII #SuperBowlLIIMinneapolis #KARE11 #chocolateishealthy #BoldNorth
N.B. I don’t like football. At all. Baseball and hockey are my sports…but I do love my city, and I’m so proud to show it off to the rest of the country!
A place to share insight and information about the many forms of writer’s resistance (writer’s block, procrastination, distractions, looking for answers in the fridge, keeping yourself too busy to write, etc.) so you can stop resisting and start really enjoying your writing.