I have always been fascinated by the potential emptiness of the Earth, from a human point of view of course. And now it is an empty time. In each of these photos is I-90 at 7pm on a Saturday. Basically, empty. I have seen the photos of places that are usually filled with us, tons of us – as tourists, as gawkers, as unbelievers that so many people live in such crowded cities. I want to show photos of regular place, I need to show the emptiness, the absence of normal. It is just one level of disbelief these days.
…and the moon has turned red over One Tree Hill.
Being a lifelong, devoted U2 fan I listened to their show this past weekend from New Zealand. And then, as happens with any song you love for 30+ years, this one got stuck in my head. So, I popped the CD in the car, turned it up way too loud for my aging ears, and jammed.
And all the sudden I was in my 20’s, driving in my little red car on the 101 in California, then I was a mother singing this song to her babies, then I was in the stadium two years ago with my grown kids for the anniversary tour, all 3 of us singing every word.
The music transported me through time. I was a bit taken aback with the intensity of it, but as it washed over me, I was joyful.
I’m working hard to realize my age. I’ve stopped coloring my hair and see that my grey is coming in just like my mothers did, and I feel special because of it. I miss her because of it.
It seems all part of accepting and honoring where you are, right now. Transporting through time and picking out the happy things, the moments that break our heart with the heaviness of love. Pushing those to the front of our memories, no point in keeping the low points highlighted.
I am forever grateful for the music, the voice, the lyrics that help me to remember my life’s beautiful snippets.
How many times do we arrive at a fork in this road of life and have to make a decision about what comes next? How many times are we afforded the luxury of times to make that decision?
Now that I am smack in the middle of “mid-life” I find the question that has chased me my whole life still hovers in the background of what I thought was a settled life.
I’ve discovered, in the last year, that I am not too old to learn things about myself. I can still change, be a better human, move forward knowing I value what I find important, find my voice to tell my story.
And learn, learn, learn. Change my viewpoint, change my perspective, change my life. Move forward wanting to know what comes next, whether I ever find it or not.
I was lucky enough to have captured this moment of my grown children putting up the Christmas village for the first time in years. You see we’ve been torn apart, hurt beyond words, silenced by our pain. The story is long, complicated and familiar to many.
Healing, forgiveness, needed help, and most of all love are moving us forward into a place of peace.