Discovering the extraordinary in the ordinary
Autumn leaves resting on the earth
Questions, like designs
in a vivid carpet
ignite my imagination
For the past four weeks I’ve been showing up at my desk every morning to write in my journal. And today, I wrote a poem about autumn leaves and imagination. I’m proud that I showed up every day and even more chuffed that I WROTE A POEM!
There’s been a shift in imagination.
Where we love is home, home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.
~ Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr.
The word ‘home’ is an emotive one for me as we prepare to leave this house. Yes, the SOLD sticker is on the board – a definitive sign that this house we have called home for the past 20 years, won’t be our home for much longer. Furniture, special objects, my books, are packed, ready for the journey to a new place. And because these things that made our house a home are gone, our children grown and flown the nest too, it’s a little disorienting.
Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory.
~ Dr Seuss
The decluttering, packing, and the gruelling work schedule we set ourselves, is finally complete. The house is now for sale, in the hands of a selling agent and we feel that we are marking time until the auction.
‘Marking time’ originated in the military, where soldiers march in place, without moving in any direction. It’s also described as ‘motion without progress’. In other words, not doing anything important while you wait for something to happen. In our case, waiting until the sale of our house.
The first step towards getting somewhere is to decide that you are not going to stay where you are.
~ John Pierpont Morgan
I can’t believe it’s almost five months since I’ve been in this space. The hiatus wasn’t forced, it’s more about procrastination and the belief that I was too busy to write. But those are just excuses.
A lot has happened in the interim. . .
More important than the quest for certainty is the quest for clarity.
∼ Francois Gautier
For some time now Amore and I have been on a quest to discover a new place to live. Initially we thought that we’d find the perfect spot in our home state of South Australia, but we found no properties which matched our criteria as ideal ‘dream house’ locations. Admittedly, our criteria are pretty strict and although we love tons of things about South Australia, with hindsight, it was never going to make the cut. We decided to expand our exploration and discovery quest to the New South Wales and Victorian coasts.
Mere colour, unspoiled by meaning, and unallied with definite form, can speak to the soul in a thousand different ways.
~ Oscar Wilde
You may have guessed from these pages that I love colour. As a young woman, my wardrobe was a profusion of primary colours — reds, yellows, royal blues, as well as lots of white. But during my declutter, I noticed that in recent years the colours of my clothes have undergone a transformation. There are lots more pastel shades, especially different shades of blue and beige. There are even brown items — a colour I avoided when I was younger because I felt it made me fade into the background because of my dark skin. There are a few yellows and reds — although I hadn’t worn them in ages, I was reluctant to discard them for sentimental reasons. (Marie Kondo would disapprove!)
Mature women are encouraged to tone down the colours in our lives — wardrobe, jewellery, makeup, we are told should be muted. Have you noticed that many mature women wear shades of brown, beige, cream and black? Perhaps it’s because magazines and countless blogs for the over 40s and 50s exhort us to subdue, soften, and diminish! Red is out, jewellery should be silver, platinum or white gold and no chunky gold necklaces or bangles.
Does muted = age?