On my FB feed yesterday, I saw a reminder of a blog I’d posted three years ago on January 7, 2022. I wondered if it might have something to say to me today.
I read the first sentence: “The crow woke up on the first day of the new year. ‘Hey, get busy,’ she scolded me. ‘You’ve been lollygagging around long enough. Get your rear in gear.’”
Ah, yes. Not much has changed. Lollygag! What a fine word. My dictionary gives me a list of synonyms: creep, drag, plod, poke, slide, slither, squirm, wriggle, and “inch oneself along.” Yes. I have been lollygagging for the first week of this year. How about you?
With a new year come high expectations. New year = new you. New year = new adventures, new fields to explore. But what if you feel like you only have enough energy to just lollygag? Inch yourself along? Then what?
I read further in my blog (http://crowdayone.blogspot.com/2022/01/):
I told the crow that I did not need a scolding; I'd had a tough few
months, and the creative juices weren't flowing. Fast forward to 2024: I'm there again. I've been lollygagging with my book, my blankie, and my lazy-boy these days.
2024 has been a big challenge for the resident sweetie and me. In my last blog post dated the 13th of June 2024, I described our situation: months of debilitating pain for Al before he was diagnosed with a disintegrated hip, the long wait for surgery, interrupted by an emergency pacemaker operation. Al had been told that he was not a good candidate for surgery because of other medical conditions, and it was a big wake-up call for us. My head told me that hip surgery is routine with little risk, but my heart heard something else. Danger, danger! Life is fragile. My head knew that, now my heart had to catch up.
In that blog, I also wrote about how I used the practice of making art to help me grow into this new understanding. I used my mother-in-law’s apron as a basis for my work. I chopped the colourful apron up into confetti and spread it out like a pathway. I added strips of colour to highlight the many themes that are the foundation of our lives -- red for joy, green for growth, black for sadness, etc. Those coloured strips with their dangling ends could be potential blessings, or possible road maps, or bends in the journey. They could become the arms of our community that we lean on when times are tough. The work was helping me understand and accept the reality of our pretty fantastic/oh so tough/happy/anxious/up and down life.
I added an “Eye of God” weaving to remind myself that we were far from alone on our journey. The piece is not totally finished...maybe it never will be, because our journey through life is ongoing.
I am happy to say that Al had his hip surgery and recovered very
well. Soon he was walking out in the woods again, something he'd been unable to do for half a year. We are so grateful for the medical establishment, for family,
friends and community who surrounded us with care and love, for healing
and growth.
Three years ago, my cure for lollygagging was to start something, anything at all. I began making postcards with messages written on the back.
This was one of the messages: “Where the path well-traveled ends is where your adventure begins. Be strong and of good courage. Take that first step and venture forth into the great unknown.”
Today, I'm not quite ready to take that first step, but maybe soon. And so I listen, which is also work.
When our bodies tell us, "Lollygag!", we are reminded that by lollygagging, we may actually be still enough to notice something new. By lollygagging, you and I can listen to the song in our hearts, which may be stilled for a while, but not forever, because it has been placed there by the Creator for the good of the world. Only you can sing the song that is planted there, which needs stillness to discover.
I’m listening, and I’m hearing whispers. Something is coming, something good is on the horizon.
Hi Jess. Happy New Year. I really enjoyed your blog. Lots of food for thoughts. John and I find ourselves lollygagging often now. 2024 was a tough journey for us. Right this moment we are in Maui—walking, whale watching along the beach and just relaxing. It is wonderfully restorative. Life is a gift!
ReplyDeleteThanks Anonymous. (AF Or GH?) Maui sounds lovely. We could use a bit of that!
ReplyDeleteHi Jess. I wish I was in Maui 🐳. Seems to me that lollygagging is restorative- a bit of hibernation during winter. And in the busy crazy world we need that Glad you’re both doing well. Hugs to you.
ReplyDelete