dedication

Contemplating – Day 1107

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On My Walk Today – Photo: L. Weikel

Contemplating

I’ll admit it: I’m contemplating shamelessly exploiting more of my pets to avoid sitting with and exploring the unsettled feelings that are coming up for me. And that’s kind of a weird thing. Not shamelessly exploiting my pets, of course. If you’ve been reading my posts for any length of time, you know I do that with abandon. Indeed, whenever I’m at a loss for something to write about, I look to my four legged friends to bail me out.

No, what’s weird is the fact that I seem to be avoiding altogether the task of excavating and reflecting upon my feelings as I approach the completion of my 1111 Devotion. So I’m left with this creeping sense of dread that if I don’t look for the meaning, it will have meant nothing at all.

But even that feels disingenuous. I committed to this Act of Power to find some small way to honor the life and creativity of my son. I did it as an act of devotion to the relationship I lost when he died. I did it because I wanted to acknowledge the hole he left in my heart – in my life – and those of his father and brothers as well. And I know there are others out there who loved him – and miss him – as well.

Taken today, too – Photo: L. Weikel

Regret

There are days when I regret my failure to create something truly meaningful and enduring to remember Karl by. He was passionate about feeding people and caring for the un-housed. He had that uncommon generosity of sharing what little he had with those who had less. I’m keenly aware that I barely even wrote about these societal challenges, much less did anything to alleviate them.

Many families that lose a child seem to turn their tragedy into an instrument of good. Their efforts range from establishing foundations to counter the gun lobby, or raising money to research SIDS, or creating better systems to feed the food insecure or to bring tiny homes to communities.

I stand in awe of mothers who create legacies of this kind.

So, no. I don’t put a lot of stock in the fact that I stayed up late 1111 nights in a row to write about stuff. From what I saw on my walks in nature that day to my reactions to the slow-moving coup we call our daily lives (in the U.S. and world-wide, sadly), my missives covered some pretty mundane, albeit occasionally fanciful subjects. And what I’m realizing in this moment is that they were, for the most part, a pretty far cry from creative. So much for honoring Karl’s prodigious creativity and irreverence.

Don’t Get Me Wrong

Lest I leave you with the sense that I regret this effort, please, let me assure you, that’s not the case. I think I can safely say my skills at iPhone photography alone have benefited significantly. So right there is an artistic and creative aspect to this project that I didn’t foresee.

And beyond a shadow of a doubt, the most amazing aspect to this 1111 Devotion was the dedication displayed by so many of you. By making a point to read my posts each day (and sometimes having to go to Facebook to find the daily missive or search directly on my website), each of you engaged in an Act of Power yourselves.

I can’t thank you enough for being such steadfast companions on this journey.

(Hmmm. Well, this was a surprise. I guess I’ll exploit my pets tomorrow night instead. I still have three more posts to write!)

The sky was quite expressive – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-4)

Consecration – Day 1091

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Photo: L. Weikel

Consecration

Consecrate: verb (used with object) 1. to make or declare sacred; set apart or dedicate to the service of a deity. 2. to make (something) an object of honor or veneration; hallow. 3. to devote or dedicate to some purpose. (Dictionary.com)

As you may recall from last night’s post, while I chose the Ace of Air as my primary card, the 10 of Water was clearly a player in delivering the message. Considering that I was posing the question of “What’s next?” in the context of the impending conclusion of my 1111 Devotion and the sacred intention with which I began this process almost three years ago, I was surprised by the keyword of the 10 of Water: consecration.

Whether I ‘get’ the crux of that message tonight or in two weeks – or maybe even two years from now – what I find amazing is that the cards seem to realize the essence of my query.

The cards know that, fundamentally, this is all about making the ordinary sacred. It’s all about lighting upon an act that I might consecrate in memory of my Karl. Choosing to engage in an action which might ordinarily be viewed as routine and making it holy; making it sacred and meaningful in a way that transcends ordinary day-to-day consciousness. This is my quest.

Underneath My Ace

As I described in yesterday’s post, a few pretty salient details jumped out at me as I contemplated the illustration of the 10 of Water as depicted by the illustrator of the Witches’ Wisdom Tarot*, Danielle Barlow. There were a number of powerful symbols that had personal meaning to me and the pursuit of my spiritual path.

But again, sometimes the magic of perceiving a message being sent to us by Spirit, or even ‘just’ our own subconscious, or Higher Self, or soul is enhanced by considering all the opportunities provided us to ‘get the message.’ And that includes not only relying heavily – and primarily – on our own intuition and insight, but also availing ourselves of the nuances that lurk in the words or symbols proffered by others. For instance, the particular words and phrases used by the creator of the deck or other oracle we might be using.

10 of Water – The Witches’ Wisdom Tarot by Phyllis Curott, Illustrated by Danielle Barlow

My next step, therefore, was to consider and pay acute attention to these words:

“10 of Water – Consecration

Wisdom – Verdant, humid, and embracing, the rainforest grows. Tree and Vine, Butterfly and bright-beaked Toucan, tiny Tree Frog and fearsome, holy Jaguar peer through the leaves. Rain pours from above, pools on the ground below, seeps deep into the Earth, and rises to make everything grow. The rain is full of music – songs telling stories of this magical place that makes the world better for all of Life. The rainforest is wild and full of wonder, danger and divinity, chaos and perfection. There is Life and there is death, but there is no evil. It’s raining and everything is blessed.

Essence – Wonderment, flourishing, blessings. The rewards of feeling fully. Water of Life.

Counsel – What is the song your heart is secretly singing? What is the divine magic hiding within you? There’s no reason for self-doubts or fear. Step outside your comfort zone and into the magic of Creation. No matter how turbulent the Waters of Life may be, how hard the rain, muddy the river, or unknown the rainforest, remember, you’re made of Water, and Water makes all things grow and flourish.

Magic – Go out in the rain. Listen. What’s it saying to you? Reach out your arms and feel the Water on your skin. Stick out your tongue and drink it in. Wash your face with it. Let it bless you. Feel your heart open to all that is manifesting…”

My Interpretation

The word ‘listen’ comes up and is prominent in both cards. Abundance surrounds the question I’ve asked. Perhaps that means there are (or will be) an abundance of choices on what is the best next action for me to consecrate to my cherished son.

Again, I feel ‘patience’ is also a watchword that needs to be heeded. Yes, Spirit understands my desire to know ‘what’s next.’ But for now, my focus needs to remain on the 1111 Devotion. I must dedicate myself to successfully concluding my first Act of Power with impeccability. ‘What’s next,’ if anything, will reveal itself in perfect timing.

I will listen. And perhaps, if the stars line up just right, I’ll even open my mouth.

*affiliate link

(T-20)

What a Number – Day 999

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Stars Through the Forest – Photo: L. Weikel

What a Number

What a number I just typed into the title line, above. Could I really be writing my last three-digit post tonight?

Numerologically speaking, this feels like an ending, even if I’ve not yet arrived at my goal of 1111 consecutive posts. Nines are completion. Three nines, no matter how you look at them, sort of hammer home the concept of completion. Beyond the simple fact of three nines comprising the number, if you add the nines, 9+9+9 = 27 and then 2+7=9. No matter which way you look at 999, it reduces to a 9, and thus it represents a wrapping up, a conclusion, an end to something.

Not My 1111 Devotion

The number 999 may signify completion of something, on some level, but it does not mean I intend to quit my Act of Power before I reach my goal. No; there remain 112 posts to write, and I intend to write them, Goddess willing.

It represents the end of three-digit posts. That’s pretty lame.

Honestly, I don’t know what – if anything – reaching this number signifies, other than I’m plugging along, doing my thing, honoring my word.

Day after day (technically night after night), I blow a quick kiss to my eldest son when I hit ‘publish’ and whisper, “I miss you so damn much. I remember you every single day. And I do this one little thing each night because I said I would. Because I love you.”

And although it’s a little thing, sometimes that’s the best I can do.

Fire Sprite Rising – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-112)

Full Moon – Day 572

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Approaching Storm – Photo: L. Weikel

Full Moon

Today at 3:12 p.m. EDT, the moon was full. The Old Farmer’s Almanac refers to a full moon in June as the Full Strawberry Moon. With strawberries ripening and becoming abundantly available at farm stands and grocery stores, we can safely guess where this moon got its name.

Today also marked a partial lunar eclipse. The significance of this eclipse will remain to be revealed. (Ha ha – that’s sort of a play on the fact that eclipses tend to be revelatory in the sense that things that have been hidden for a long time, often even from ourselves, tend to be revealed by an eclipse.) But seriously, we can certainly see this playing out on a macro level – throughout our country – and on a micro level, if we’re honest with ourselves and really look at the state of our marriages, lives, other relationships, and careers.

What is being revealed to us now?

Last Eclipse

The last such lunar eclipse this year occurred at the beginning of January. It also occurred on a Friday – January 10th, 2020, to be exact.

You might want to go back to your journals and check out what was going on for you back then. Was anything hidden, unexpected, or of import revealed to you on or around that date? I have to say, that eclipse was one of the most stunning ones I’ve experienced, when it came to revelations about people’s natures that totally blindsided me. Profound trust was startlingly dashed.

And on a global level, here’s an article that can, in hindsight, give us all pause.

Entering Eclipse ‘Season’

As significant as the revelations were that came on and around the lunar eclipse in January of this year, I have to uneasily wonder what’s in store for all of us over the next month. That’s because, not only did we experience another lunar eclipse today (if partial – and not visible in North America), we have a solar eclipse to look forward to that will occur on the same day as the summer solstice (June 21st), promising an even greater impact, and then yet another lunar eclipse on July 5th.

Bing, bang, boom.

I’m not suggesting that we pay attention to eclipse season – and in particular this eclipse season – in order to generate fear. Rather, my intention is the opposite. I’m simply offering some information that, if we pay attention to it, will perhaps in some small way, prepare us for the unexpected.

Let’s face it, world wide, we’ve been getting curve balls hurled at us. But here in the United States, in particular, we’re dodging a virtual onslaught of major life, values, and reality upheavals.

Expect the Unexpected

It’s really tough to expect the unexpected. But there is good reason for all of us not to assume that ‘the worst is over,’ or ‘things are getting back to normal.’ Actually, there are many good reasons not to make such assumptions, beyond the adage pertaining to assumptions in general.

If there was ever a time in our lives to keep a journal, I’d say this is it.

I’m encouraging you, then, to beef up your discipline and dedication to writing about what’s going on in your life at this time. Be as specific and thorough as possible. If nothing else, it could end up being a fascinating reflection on how – or even if – you can see a correlation between events in your personal life, events on a local or national or global scale, and our experience of the three eclipses of June/July 2020.

(T-539)

Tuckered Out – Day 209

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June Sunset – Photo: L. Weikel

Tuckered Out                                  

I was feeling kind of bad tonight that I am so freaking tired and sore. It just seems like no matter how much I walk, day in and day out, I still tire a lot more quickly than I remember ever doing before. While I’m trying not to judge or speak to myself harshly, it is a bit disconcerting, and it takes discipline not to feel disappointed in myself.

For the most part, I’ve been maintaining my walking regimen that I began right around my birthday. Yesterday, though, I barely registered any mileage, since I had a session with a client.

I tried to bounce right back onto the wagon today, though, clocking in 6.3 miles.

The First Leg

Spartacus and I did an initial 4.1 on our own.

Among some of the fascinating things he found to smell, explore, and ‘mark’ on our journey today, we did spot this evidence of a raccoon passing through.

Raccoon passing through – Photo: L. Weikel

About 20 minutes after our return, Karl came in and wanted to do our usual walk. Since I hadn’t taken Sheila on the 4.1, we knew it would be best for all of us to take her out and at least ‘do the two.’

I’m so glad we did! Not only were the clouds and colors of the sunset beyond compare, the lightning bugs were coming into their glory tonight. It was so great to walk through the woods at High Rocks and watch them rise from the forest floor. Of course, they were also rising from the meadows, too, as our path took us from forest tunnel to open fields and back again.

But as I started saying at the outset of this post, I was really feeling a bit disappointed in myself for feeling so tired.

Until I took a look at Spartacus. He sacked out like this as soon as we walked in the door. Looks like he is every bit as tuckered out as I am. Weird, perhaps, but I took comfort in this.

A tuckered Spart (with friends watching his back) – Photo: L. Weikel

I’m grateful my body can carry me around the countryside, logging 6.3 miles on a gorgeous Saturday. And I hope and expect to get up tomorrow and walk some more. I’m on the cusp of making some changes and this walking is clarifying and solidifying some choices for change that are a long time coming.

(T-902)

Getting Back in the Groove – Day 196

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Walking – One Step at a Time – Photo: L. Weikel

Getting Back in the Groove           

I’ve gotta tell you – getting back in the groove is not as easy as I thought it would be.

The last day I walked any substantial mileage was Saturday, May 4th. On that day I walked 4.5 miles. And the two days prior to that, I walked 6.8 miles and 6.3 miles.

Since then, however? Well, a couple days I walked almost three miles. But not quite. And the rest of the days’ mileages were just pittances. To be sure, given that I was in the mountains of western North Carolina, there were many days when I was visiting Amadell that I may not have walked very far horizontally – but I did manage to climb the equivalent of 18 floors a couple of times. And one day, last Sunday, May 19th , I actually walked 2.1 miles – and climbed the equivalent of 52 floors!

I have to say, that’s pretty impressive. The cool thing, though, was that I barely even noticed I was doing all that climbing.

Losing a Step

Nevertheless, I do feel the effects of stepping away from my dedicated activity. It’s been a struggle to enthusiastically embark upon any of my routes that take me further than my decades-old path of 2.1 miles.

Today I could have tacked on some extra mileage, yet all I managed to clock were 2.4 miles. As I mentioned the other day, it’s been a long week. And the month of May itself, spent predominantly in North Carolina on the side of a mountain, was bound to change up my routine.

So I’m not going to beat myself up too much over the paucity of mileage accumulated this month. In truth, over the past three weeks I often sang the praises (if internally) of the intuition that prompted me to start walking with accelerated gusto around my birthday.

A Book to Inspire

I did find it amusing that I found a book at Malaprops’ (you’ll recall I visited there while in Asheville) that seemed to shout at me from across the room: Walking – One Step at a Time, by Erling Kagge. The English translation from Norwegian was just published this year, and I’ve seen it in a couple of bookstores since I purchased it. It seems to be a staff favorite everywhere I’ve seen it featured.

I’ve only just allowed myself to savor it on the edges, because I’m still immersed in another book that has me contemplating quite seriously what I want to do next with my life.

One thing I know for sure: my ability to walk mile after mile is a profound gift. I do not intend to squander it; indeed, I am determined to reclaim it.

(T-915)

Salted Caramel Filled Chocolates – Day Ninety

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Salted Caramel Filled Chocolates…           

are the only thing keeping me awake at the moment.

I’ve always stayed up late. (Yeah, a night owl. Go figure.) But pretty much since I started my 1111 Devotion, I’ve been staying up even later than I used to, and on a much more consistent basis. And by later I mean for the past 90 days I’ve not gone to bed before 12:30 a.m. at the earliest and 2:15 a.m. at the latest. On average, hitting the sheets by around 1:30 a.m.

For the most part, it works out. I’ve always done my best work at night. Since my college days, the dark hours when most other people are asleep were when I accomplished the most. So this isn’t a shockingly new development. The toll taker is the consistency.

And this week has been a particularly challenging stretch. Earlier in the week, I had to get up at 4:15 a.m. to take Karl to the airport. So my Wednesday was a little ragged around the edges, if I do say so myself.

Then last night I didn’t get to bed until 2:00-ish, in spite of how tired I was, and then got back up at 5:15 to make the pilgrimage back to Newark in order to collect Karl off the red-eye.

Sleep Deprivation Can Be a Bitch

Maybe it was that I only got three hours of sleep two out of the last four days. (Yeah, that might be it.) Maybe I just don’t have the EverReady Bunny mojo I used to have? Yeah, that could be it; I don’t know. One thing I do know: I’ve been borderline zombie today.

So here I am, listening to Karl’s rhythmic breathing/pseudo-snoring as he slumbers on the couch. I close my eyes to pull words from the ethers and find myself nodding off in what feel like micro-naps. I catch myself when my head bobs and I realize I’ve lost my train of thought.

Enter Chocolove filled Salted Caramel dark chocolate. Someone must have been watching over me when I went to Whole Foods on Thursday and discovered these bars of chocolate-y pillows of delight were on sale.

Probably the only reason I’ve managed to write this much is because I indulged.

A Shift in Perspective

Believe it or not, I started this post out expressing disappointment and annoyance with myself for eating chocolate so late in the evening. But I’ve deleted that garbage because I suddenly realize how lucky I am. So what if I’m overtired and need a little “chocolove” to help me follow through on my commitment? To add fuel to my Act of Power? To sustain my dedication?

I’m lucky because my husband is asleep on the couch. My sons are warm and cozy living their lives with their loves. I’m surrounded by my two dogs and three cats (even if they crowd me into a corner of our bed). I’m healthy and my senses are eager and able to indulge in the exquisite delight of a dark chocolate morsel filled with gooey salted caramel.

I have the extraordinary and magical good fortune of working with people and Spirit in the way I do. And how rich am I to hit the ‘publish’ button every night only to wake up to see that you have cared enough to walk another day with me on this journey?

So no. I’m not going to hold on to the sadness that swept across my brow last night. And I’m not going to lament the fact that I gave myself permission to eat some chocolate tonight. That’s just such an old, bullshit way of thinking.

I’m going to be grateful for the salted caramel filled dark chocolates with sweet little hearts embossed on top. I’m going to feel the love that permeates my life.

And I’m going to send it back out into the world: to you.

(T-1021)

Dispelling Illusions – Day Sixty Seven

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The Blank Page – Photo by L. Weikel

Dispelling Illusions

Yeah, I know I waxed rhapsodic over my new journal last night. I assure you, it was heartfelt. Truly.

I’m also a real pain in the behind with my clients over keeping a journal. I must bring it up about 15,000 times during a session, and if not quite that many times in the session itself, then most definitely in my follow up correspondences.

I’ve witnessed first hand the myriad times I’ve benefited from having written down my internal observations and feelings. Truly, those times are virtually countless. From documenting details that have served me in great stead to recall, to purging myself of emotions and accusations that could easily have led to vast heartache and further misunderstanding had they been expressed outwardly, to another person, my journal is in fact my very best friend.

Making Connections Helps Us Make Sense of It All

I’ve also seen the proverbial light bulb go on above people’s heads (usually my clients or students – most being both, turns out) when they experience that zing of excitement when a message or experience from the past (which they wrote down) somehow links with an experience or encounter now – and the dots connect in ways that reveal something much greater than they ever would have imagined (or even remembered, had they not written it down in the first place).

It’s in the details. It’s part of honoring our process. And our process includes feeling our fears,  figuring out what we want, describing and immersing ourselves in our really sad and depressed days, expressing our dreams, and reveling in our triumphs – both inner and outer.

I can’t declare more passionately how essential I feel it is to our own self-awareness and growth that we capture on paper (ideally) (but electronically will suffice) (beggars can’t be choosers) (I’ll take a win where I can get it) (I’ll stop speaking in parenthetic phrases now) our innermost understandings of ourselves.

That’s why I keep coming back to the importance of journaling again and again.

Revelations Often Come Within a Single Entry

One of the fascinating things about the transformative nature of journaling is how, more often than not, at least in my experience, the transformation actually takes place within the journal entry itself. Meaning it’s not over a series of journal entries that major shifts take place. That happens for sure, sometimes.

But time and time again, I have sat down with my journal and felt something – some emotion, perhaps, or held an exceedingly strong belief about a particular subject – and by the time I have allowed myself to sit and write and contemplate and perhaps write down all my options, or given voice to all the possible reasons why something may have unfolded the way it did, I notice a distinctly different feeling within myself.

Usually I’ve achieved a sense of peace. Almost always, even if I still have no idea how I want to move forward or what I may be walking into next, I know who I am and how I feel in that moment.

My Journal is My Best Friend

Journaling helps me know who I am. It helps me understand why I think, feel, and behave the way I do in any given moment. And because of that, I think journaling helps me love myself.

Quite honestly, I can’t think of a greater gift I can give to anyone else. That’s why I recommend it like a broken record to anyone and everyone I live with, work with, or care about.

So with all of what I’ve just written, knowing that I have some 63 journals on my library wall and a fresh brand-spanking-new journal just waiting for me to initiate it, you’d think I would have christened that baby today, wouldn’t you?

Well, let me dispel that illusion. In spite of my best intentions…there’s always tomorrow.

(T-1044)

Photo by L. Weikel

Neglected Journal-keeping – Day Twenty Eight

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Journal-keeping

I have to admit it; I’m a teensy bit stoked that I’ve made it a full lunar month of consistently writing Ruffled Feathers entries.

There has been some fallout in other areas, however, which I’m going to need to rectify, such as my regular journal-keeping. Yeah, my spiral notebook is feeling neglected. I noticed about a week ago that I’d permitted a terrible lapse in entries. A full fourteen days, if I’m not mistaken, which for me is nearly unforgivable.

Do I Have to Choose?

The only reason I didn’t lapse into a round of merciless self-flagellation was because I knew that, on some level, I’d made a choice. And for now at least, if I honestly felt I needed to make a choice, then opting for my 1111 Devotion was the way to go.

Yet as soon as I realized that I was sacrificing one form of writing for another, I knew that could not stand. Keeping a journal has been my way of snatching sanity from the undertow of overwhelm and sadness all my life. Keeping a journal has been integral to maintaining my marriage. Keeping a journal has led me to personal insights that I’m confident I never would have made otherwise, and therefore keeping a journal has been integral to creating the person I am today.

So no, sacrificing my journal writing to fulfill my commitment – my devotion – to honoring Karl’s life is not a practice I will permit. I’m not saying that I must write in my journal every day. But I am saying that a two week lapse is not part of the plan.

My reasoning is two-fold. First, I have kept some form of a journal in earnest since I was in 7thor 8thgrade. I cannot say that I’ve seen those earliest confessionals since becoming an adult, but I do recall writing out my feelings back when I was in 8thgrade, and perhaps even younger.

A Breach of Trust

And sadly, round about the age of 16 or so, I also recall discovering that my mother had done the unthinkable and read something I’d written without asking. (I’m thinking this may be why I haven’t discovered those early attempts at keeping a ‘diary.’ Although I do not remember reacting in an incendiary manner to her breach – by literally lighting them on fire or even being tempted to chuck them – I do find it odd that I can’t put my hands on them. And my visceral reaction to even the thought of burning or otherwise disposing of a journal leads me to believe I would never have taken such a drastic step.)

That’s not to say that I wasn’t incensed with my mother’s breach. Oh my. I was. But I also know we hashed it out. Honestly, tearfully, and not just a little angrily. Which is why I feel slightly bad about dredging this up now, because I know I forgave her. But forgiving doesn’t mean forgetting. And I’m not dredging this up to make her feel bad (since she’s been gone from this realm since 1991), but rather to explain that the deepest source of my outrage at her betrayal was because she’d had my trust. I told her almost everything (much to her chagrin many times). And I didn’t lie. But that’s not to say I told her every single lustful little thought that entered my mind as an adolescent (ew). And those thoughts were precisely the types of things she discovered when she read my ‘diary’ that I took absolute umbrage over her violating my privacy.

I’ve spent much longer on that fracas with my mother than I intended. And yet I’m not quite finished.

It feels important to express why I continued keeping journals even after my mother’s breach. Indeed, they became more and more of a lifeline for me when I turned 17 and became an exchange student in Sweden.

And that’s because I forgave her. And I forgave her because we listened to each other.

Forgiveness – Healing for Both the Forgiver and the Forgiven

I remember having it out together in my parents’ bedroom, when I confronted her after she asked me a question that I immediately saw she already knew the answer to. I was, as I’ve said, incensed. She’d been worried. Or something. I can’t even remember, other than to recall that she admitted that she was wrong to have read it. She admitted that she knew she was wrong because we did have such a close bond, and I did tell her so much about my life. I could see it written all over her face that she sincerely regretted it. And on some level, I understood that she’d almost been offered too tempting a target. “Did she really know me?” “Could she really trust me?” All she needed to do was read what I wrote…

Things were way different culturally when I was 16 than when my sisters and brother were 16, my closest sister in age being 9 years older and the eldest being 19 years older than me. So, yeah. I understood that she wasn’t sure if she knew me. And she understood my outrage.

After our (heated) discussion, I trusted she’d never do that to me again. And I know that trust was well-placed.

I’ll get to my second point tomorrow.

I promise.

(T-1083)

Day Twenty Two (T-1089) – Housekeeping

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Housekeeping

Nope, I’m not going to be writing about my vacuuming, dusting, smudging, or laundry habits, which are vast and impressive, I hasten to assure you. (Right.)

When I put ‘Housekeeping’ in the title to this post, I’m actually referring to this blog. To this Endeavor of Dedication, this Act of Power.

It’s funny. On the one hand, I’m sitting here writing my 22nd consecutive daily blog post; something I would never have imagined myself actually doing: writing and posting every single day for 22 straight days.

On the other hand, though – there are the remaining 1089 consecutive days staring me in the face. When I look at things from that perspective, I’m just a baby. Really. To invoke a Carpenters’ ear-worm for those of you of a certain age, “We’ve only just begun…!” (You’re welcome.)

To that end, though, I must admit to being a total neophyte when it comes to pretty much all things blog. For instance, it seems kind of stupid to keep naming each post by its simple “Day number” (and the number of days remaining for me to complete my 1111 Devotion). But it does keep me on track and my eyes on the prize. Or rather, the destination. The prize is the doing; I do know that.

But I’m wondering if this then just looks like a bunch of gobbledygook to someone happening upon my blog. What would compel them to click on any of my posts, when they are all just titled with a generic day/count? I’m also compelled to think about indexing. What if some day I want to refer back to the post I wrote about ice cream, for instance? Or de-cluttering my bookshelves?

Last night I at least put “Books” behind the day/countdown.

I don’t know. This is probably a ridiculous thing for me to be writing about tonight. But it’s on my mind; and I’d like to set up my titles in an interesting, if not compelling (that seems too high a bar to shoot for in a blog title) manner that is consistent, but informative, and maybe even ‘searchable?’ And that’s where the relevance of the remaining number of posts comes in: I’ve barely scratched the surface at 22. So, now is the time for me to be figuring this out, since I don’t want to have to go back after a couple of hundred to re-title them (if that’s even possible).

And yeah, I guess I could’ve just kept this to myself and not dredged this mundane aspect of blogging into your lives. But heck – we’re in this for the long haul (please, I hope so), and maybe some of you will even be inspired to engage in a similar effort. So you can learn from my mistakes!

(Here I would like to note that I am noticing some posts on FB by a couple of you who read this, which also seem to be a daily devotion… YEA for you! They are lovely – joyful! – and thoughtful.)

So, you will see how this shakes out over the next few days. We’ll see if I stick to the format I’ve used since Day Two (T-1109), incorporate it into a new format, or change it all together. I’m sure you’re all on the edge of your seats.

I don’t know. I have to wonder if something ‘big’ is going to happen this week. I feel this sense of edginess, almost like I don’t want to get into anything too deeply. I didn’t intend this post to be so mundane. But for whatever reason, this is what it felt right to write about tonight.

What I was going to write about was ‘Timing’ and/or ‘Trusting’ when we should or shouldn’t say something. Guess I’ll save one of those for tomorrow.

Thank you for sticking with me.