45 and Fabulous
45 and Fabulous
Hello my friend! Thanks for dropping in to spend a few minutes together. Do you have a hot cup of something and a few minutes to yourself to sit and chat? Great! Let’s get started! I have spent the week getting adjusted to being 45! It is similar to the beginning of the New Year when you find yourself writing last year’s date on everything. The first week at a new age is interesting as every now and then it just hits you that you are a year older and hopefully wiser. It is like a fresh AHA moment every few hours. As a result of all these AHA’s moments that I’ve experienced this week, I’ve come to the conclusion that I want to be 45 and fabulous.
Age is Just a Number
I am of the persuasion that believes/professes that age is just a number. However, there are certain numbers that make you stop and think about that a little more than others. 45 is one of them. Maybe because I’m now smack dab in the middle of a decade; perhaps because it has already been a year of much change -or even because I’m past the denial of being over 40. Whatever the exact reason is, 45 is a number (age) that has left me a bit more reflective.
Reflection
I like to sit and think about things; life, where I’m at, where I’m going, what that path looks like. Thinking generally happens with a fresh sheet of paper and a sharpened pencil in my hands. A cup of tea in a nice mug is also helpful for this process. I’m never sure what will come out; poetry, short stories, mind maps or visions, but always, when I look back at it, it touches me deeply. How do you do your reflecting? Do you give yourself the gift of some quiet time spent thinking? Would love to hear when, where and how you like to think about things. Drop a comment below.
Musings on 45
It was a quiet afternoon last week when I had some time to set myself aside with my tea and some paper. My pencil was newly sharpened and the kitty cat curled up beside me. I wrote for a long time and then closed the cover of my notebook and set it aside. I wasn’t quite ready to sit and read it yet. Almost a week later, on a beautiful sunny morning, I settled myself in a chair on the deck. I plopped my big floppy hat on and grabbed a cup of hot tea. I was excited as I opened up my notebook and began to read. I wasn’t disappointed. My musings on 45 from a week earlier resonated deep in my spirit and may even have brought a few tears to my eyes.
Yellow Flower
Yellow Flower
Sheets of gray rain
A yellow flower blooms in the midst
A little hand reaches out and picks the flower
That little hand travels in the rain – with a bright red umbrella – holding carefully the yellow flower
That hand touches the shoulder of the one
hunched over in despair
And hands over the flower
The one sits up and looks around in the gray rain
and then looks at the bright yellow flower
The one goes out in to the gray rain
and furrows a piece of ground
and plants the yellow flower
and moves on
As that one travels she tells others, hunched over, where to find this
flower garden
Others, hunched over, hear of the hope of colour
They rise up and travel
Committed to see
The flower grows tall – little flowers
growing around it
The hands reach out and pick the little yellow flowers
They travel in the rain with a bright red umbrella – holding
carefully the yellow flower
What I Know
45 is knowing where the yellow flower is, knowing you have both the hands to give it and the hands to receive it. Knowing that there is colour in the grayness and that sometimes we have to get up and travel to find it.
There are those who look like thy have it all together, but who see themselves hunched over and in despair. The former is an elaborate facade – the later their reality.
The one with the yellow flower recognizes the hunched over in the “all together” and acknowledges it while inviting them to life.
I recognize that even after 45 years, there is still so much more to give; maybe even more to give. So many, holding a bouquet of flowers, need someone to acknowledge the barrenness within and hold out one yellow flower to offer life to the despair on the inside.
We are both the one holding out the flower and receiving the flower. We are both the one moving in the colour and living in the grayness. There is a hunched over one in each of us at some point in our lives. I hope that all of us, at some point in our lives, have had the glorious experience of travelling in the rain with a bright red umbrella – holding carefully the yellow flower.
45 and Fabulous
So what of being 45 and fabulous? I believe it is fabulous to see where I am and where I’m going. To have the time to set aside and reflect on this new age that is just a number. Fabulous comes when something is extraordinary or amazing. I’ve decided that 45 can be fabulous if I commit to finding the yellow flower, travelling through the gray rain with a red umbrella, holding carefully each yellow flower I find and touching the shoulder of the one hunched over in despair.
What can you commit to today that will create a fabulous year for you? Would love to hear from you – drop a comment below!
Farewell until Next Time
Well, it’s time to say “farewell until next time”. I’m so glad to have been able to spend this time together. See you again next week, same time, same place!
If you are interested in more Devotional reading, head over to my Facebook Page where you will find a Weekly Devotion early every Monday morning. Click here to go directly to the Weekly Devotions with Laurie.
Until next time,
From my heart to yours!
Laurie
