Yesterday my husband called me and told me he had bought me a sailboat. It was something that I toyed with as I approached my 50th birthday this past winter. I felt like I wanted to get myself something that felt like an indulgence, but that endured, and pushed me out of my comfort zone in a good way. Living here in the land of ten thousand lakes, a small sail boat that I could put into the water on my own, and goof around with either by myself or with a friend or two seemed like an ideal thing. I looked around at used boats, but then my job disappeared, I stopped thinking about it, and decided it might have to wait until I am more fully employed, or at least more stable economically.
But, with some extra money he garnered through the sale of his share of an airplane, he went on line and purchased exactly what I was looking for, and has said he will pay to have the hitch put on my car to tow it. I am almost speechless, after 17 years together, such a loving, and caring gesture. It feels wonderful to be seen, when I feel as though I go through much of my life not completely visible.
Tomorrow morning we drive out to pick it up, and if the weather is good, perhaps it will be a weekend on the water for us. This summer is beginning to look even better than I had imagined it could!

I feel as though I have been on a long voyage this weekend. I spent much of my time thinking, journalling and in general trying to sort out where I want to attempt to steer my future. With my employment future suspended, at least temporarily, I find myself under the illusion that I have more "control" over my life than usual. Instead, over the last few weeks, I find myself more a creature of habit than I might want to admit. I still escape in the same ways I always have, I do not (or at least have not yet) enthusiastically embrace a vigorous exercise plan, nor spend hours in my studio.
So I have been asking myself, what is it I truly want to do, not what do I need to do, or what should I do, but what do I want to do? It is amazing how intimidating this question is. I wish I were still 7 years old, back then I know that this question was not difficult to answer. But now, at the weathered old age of 50, it seems like a trick question riddled with trapdoors and other unpleasant boobytraps and surprises. I have managed to make a list for myself that I have written in my journal, and now intend to use as a touchstone everyday this week. I will be interested to see how many of the things I 'think' I want to do are what I end up doing.
I want to swim, walk, read, write everyday, finish my resume, plant more in my garden, write letters to people I owe letters to, get into my studio and just play (don't do anything specific, just respond to the materials), spend time with my kids while they are out of school and before their summer programs begin, draw, take photographs, try out some new recipes.
Here's to a week of experimentation. There is no time like the present!

I am in the midst of shifting from working fulltime (7:30 am-4:30 pm Monday through friday) to freelancing, creating a work lifestyle that is hopefully a better fit with the other parts of my life (active mothering of 2 at teenagers, as well as my own creative endeavours). It has been an interesting challenge fro me to find how to structure my 'work' days. At times I act as though I am on vacation, which I do feel I deserve as I took almost no days off for the last seven years. But most days I make a detailed list in my journal of all my 'to-dos' and if I find myself at the end of the day without having accomplished most of the list, I feel lazy and unproductive. It is a switch in my thinking that I am going to work on this week, to see that the nap I ended up taking today (unplanned and not on my list), might have been necessary for me to get to the other things that are on my list. I think about putting some of these items on the list ahead of time, so I can cross them off as righteously as I cross off dishes or giving the cat his antibiotics. So, naps, staring dreamily out the window, noodling around in my studio, talking to a friend on the phone, a second cup of tea while leafing through a magazine, I need to remember that these are needed also, and deserve as much room in my life as the laundry and the calls for arrangements to show my portfolio or rewriting my resume. All in good time, all in a days' work.