Think Warm Thoughts

Frost 1

When The Man Of Few Words ‘n’ I moved here a decade ago (during the summer), I was looking forward to a respite from the bone-chilling winters I’d previously experienced in Minnesota. New terrain, new seasons to assimilate.

Plus, I knew how to dress warmly.

Surprise, surprise… that winter Oklahoma had record-breaking lows.

Fast forward to 2018. I’ve officially become a weather wimp. Whenever our temps dip below 60º (15.5º C for my Southern hemisphere pals) I’m cold! I’m talkin’: put on a heavy sweater and socks — possibly a pair of ear muffs or a stocking hat (inside) — and throw on two more blankets at night.

Oklahoma hypothermia!

My hardier ancestors would be chagrined.

Frost 2 Lake View

Above is a photo out our frozen front door, but I still find frost beautiful. 

Every season has highs and lows, no matter what the temperature is (inside or out) and/or how many blankets you have to pile on.

Think warm thoughts and experience the JOY of transition.

Enjoying the unprecedented cold front… and hopefully 70º on Sunday, 

~ Kim

Extraordinary Evenings

Every day that ends with a sense of contentment is a good day whether I accomplish anything or not. Sunsets seem to affirm that. (We’re here to witness, share, and be, folks — not just “do”.) I grew up ingrained with a “doing” mindset and my self-worth was often measured by how much I got done. It’s taken me decades to get past that primordial training. Last year I put my life on hold to take care of my family, and as a result, I put The Man Of Few Words (“our” life… my life?) on hold for over six months, took an unpaid leave of absence from my job, and contended with limited cell phone signal,  almost no internet (save for my son’s tablet), and a Minnesota winter.

I was a mess when I got home.

It’s taken almost a year to regain my sense of “self”, feel the slightest modicum of creativity, and forge ahead with “my” life — or at least what I formerly envisioned it to be — while handling ongoing phone calls, daily crises, paperwork, and myriad “to-do’s” once I got home. Old habits die hard and fatigue can play funny tricks on your brain — not to mention sap your strength and leave you feeling hopeless.

Yet, I don’t.

Every day back at the lake is a stellar day… followed by an extraordinary evening. (Even when I don’t do a gosh darn thing!) Sometimes I just need to absorb it all. Contentment reigns.

During your tenure on the planet you’ll oft be presented with challenges you don’t feel qualified to face. “Buck up, buttercup” and face ’em anyway! There’s a lesson to be learned and life goes on. Things will gradually become sharper and clearer, even if you’ve had to put you (and/or your “envisioned” life on hold for unprecedented/unanticipated lengthy stretches and you question every decision.) Eventually, it will all make sense, Or, as TMOFW has oft encouraged me (while I wondered aloud about my sanity and ability): “When God wants you to be doing something else, He’ll let you know.” In the meantime, it’s segueing gently between my obligations and my dreams… being aware… and taking care of myself. (Even if it’s just looking at a sunset.)

As if to say “amen” to that thought, my poetic friend j.i. kleinberg recently published this poem entitled The Evening.

found poem © j.i. kleinberg ~ The Evening

After “all of the above”, this is how my life has been lately… halfway between my dreams and reality… with a lot of “blue” up for consideration.

Enjoying re-configuring life at the lake,

~ Kim

Rhapsody In Blue VIII

There are two kinds of fishermen on the lake. (Three, counting vicarious photographers.) Not only do we rely on serendipity, we thrive on hope. Here’s to the souls anticipating the “catch of the day” by whatever means.

A few years back, I’d climb down the thirty-foot drop to shore over uneven rocks and toss in my “hook, line, and sinker”. These days I have to be cautious about my balance — particularly my inner balance. While I may not be able to do what I “used to”, it doesn’t deter me from having fun.

Life is a series of compromises.

Figuring out the best one for you — sometimes daily — requires a knack similar to fishing, a small dose of humility, a huge dose of gratitude, and a heapin’ helpin’ of self-awareness and self-acceptance. For now, “watching” suits me just fine.

South side

Ever had to give up an integral part of yourself (temporarily or permanently) to deal with “life”? How did you cope? Did you have fun? Do tell.

Enjoying uncompromising pleasure,

~ Kim

Gently Reclaiming My Turf

dawn

This past week I went on my first walkabout in over two years (unmitigated life-events notwithstanding) with a sincere desire to reconnect with “my” landscape.

Dawn was ushered in by a pastel sunrise and I couldn’t resist exploring.

Viewing the lake from afar is lovely, but up close and personal restores my soul.

geese

Ma and Pa Goose escorted me the first fifty yards, honking furiously and strutting indignantly. (Must be a nest nearby.) After spontaneous flight the shore was mine.

This time of year the lake is the least colorful and most hopeful — a wait’n’see kind of attitude that initially appears unimpressive cloaked in muted tan, brown, and gray — but, there’s SO much more to see once you get past your first impression.

Shapes. Shadows. Surfaces.

Treasures lurk beneath!

So far I haven’t stumbled upon anything of value yet (nor the hundreds of lures TMOFW and I have “donated” to the lake over the years), but this was priceless.

Beauty and serenity — not to mention self-worth — are in the eye of the beholder. I hope you recognize yours, xo.

peaceful-shoreline

Transient residents are welcome, too, to tell the story of the ever-shifting shoreline tempered by wind, water, and time — a continuous Do Over.

We ought to learn something from that. (Every day’s an adventure!)

Nothing stays the same, but we can bear with it gracefully… even scenically.

sea-serpent

This driftwood castaway reminded me of a sea serpent. (Maybe Lake Eufaula has a Nessie?) Wouldn’t that be something.

Raccoon tracks (among others), shed feathers, and a barnacle-laden rock or two are but a few of the many reminders that this is a shared space… a sacred place.

We respect each other’s right to partake of the the lake. Yay for my turn!

It felt good to wander again… gently.

Enjoying Oklahoma,

~ Kim

Happy New Year

sunset2

Happy New Year! (a few days early…)

Hoping your holidays were merry.

Sending you a lil’ sunset love from the lake, xo.

sunset1

Would love to expound, but I’m recovering from nerve compression in my neck. (In laymen’s terms: OUCH!)

No piano, minimal computer. Will catch up with you soon.

Wishing you a glorious New Year!

Enjoying anticipating 2017,

~ Kim

Autumn at the Lake

Autumn 9

It’s been awhile since I’ve taken a “walk about” (mostly due to torrential rains, flooding, and snakes earlier this year) but it was such a gorgeous, crisp Autumn morning I needed to be out in it.

With camera in tow, I trekked down the driveway to gaze at the water…

Followed by a glance up “the hill.”

Autumn 1

Ahhhh…

Touches of Autumn are becoming more apparent — that tree literally changed color overnight! A blessing and a marvel.

Then it was off to the end of the lane.

Autumn 2

I love trees that tell stories. This one is a stalwart soul reigning over a tangle of untamed wilderness (which is one of the reasons I love Oklahoma so much… it’s still “unsettled.”) The local king of the jungle, so to speak.

Every year our trees surprise, delight, and inspire me with their stories in progress.

I hope to add my own one day.

Autumn 3

Walking was slightly “crunchy” underfoot so I stopped to admire the acorns.

A veritable feast for the squirrels!

Then I ambled through the neighbor’s yard on my way back to the lake and discovered this rustic scene.

Autumn 4

And this…

Autumn 5

Elements of play surround me.

(I love that!)

Near the shoreline, other trees shared their stories about “life in progress.” There’s no competition or hurry to keep up here. You simply go (or grow) — or change — at your own pace. It’s all good.

Autumn 6

And after that…

It was time for a closer look.

Or two.

Autumn 8

 

Autumn 10

I feel SO close to heaven when I’m wandering about God’s creation.

Closer to Oklahoma.

Closer to “me” — and you.

Autumn at the Lake

 

Enjoying sharing Autumn at the lake,

~ Kim

Cardinal Rule


Cardinal Rule

Cardinal Rule: “Of foremost importance; paramount.” (The Free Dictionary) “Central or essential.” (Vocabulary.com) “A substantial rule that is in place for a situation or organization… and it must not be broken at any time.” (Urban Dictionary)   “A fundamental rule upon which others hinge.” (Wiktionary)

Do you have a cardinal rule? (Do tell.)

Mine is: “Look for beauty, then share it.” (Even if it’s found in the ruins of your front yard — never mind that it resembles an archaeological dig at this point.) I’ve been known to “grid” a plot or two in search of hidden treasure…

Archaeological Dig I

Despite recent torrential rains, thunderstorms, fog, drizzle, and mist, I try to make a lil’ progress every day in my quest for undiscovered beauty, because “seeing” requires conscious effort and clean-up doesn’t have to be “work.” (Plus it’s more fun that way!)

My cardinal rule (re-stated) is: Share the wonder! Everything meaningful hinges on that.

Take a look-see…

Once rigid dishes and glassware were tempered and transformed into softer versions of themselves — like Moi. Life. People.

Be appreciative of all of them — especially YOU — you’re an artwork in the making! Gentleness is often shaped by the harshest of circumstances, and beauty is often staring you in the face… so LOOK! (Especially at your yourself.) You might be surprised by what you discover!

Be kinder and gentler. Loving. Soft…

A Softer Perspective

Enjoying unexpected art in the aftermath,

~ Kim