Seeing within without allowing the reflections of what is around me taint my view. The realities of my life have strengthened my resolve to accomplish this via its presentation of countless "lessons" and "workouts" ... Yet, still I seem to struggle with maintaining my focus, my will-full pursuit of the desires within my heart which empower me to fulfill my Calling.

It is a process; like everything else in life! However, I find myself selectively harboring a drive-thru mentality; my proverbial hand pounding on the horn to somehow express the intensity of the voice within, which screams, "Hurry up!!!" Although futile, it does relieve (diminish) the intensity of my "road rage." Thus allowing a time of healing (relief) pause, enabling my racing thoughts to change lanes, to refocus and take the right turn leading back to my journey.

With maturity, I do "honk" less and less. Now, I most often merely shift into "Park" and idle a bit in a rest area ... Waiting for clarity. Or at least a quiet thought on how to resume, to proceed, to carry on toward the direction of my Calling.

Nope. I see aging as the reward for living.

I embrace my 46 years of maturity, memories and life-lessons; I dance in the wisdom of my years; I study and display the treasures from along the way; I delight and continue to draw from the gifts of my adventures.

The years teach much which the days never knew.  ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Oh, this is an easy question to answer! It is Summer: I invest my time in my gardens. Whether it be digging in the dirt, pruning, planting, mulching ... dreaming, planning, sketching and photographing — that is where I am.

I delight in my gardens; I am healed, inspired and nurtured in my gardens. Amidst the life of perennials, vegetables, herbs and various sundry native plants and annuals, along with native birds and butterflies and countless crawly things — I thrive ...

Oh, if I were ever to resume music lessons (I played the piano when I was a child) is would be with the violin. Probably because I still can hear the music my son used to play when he played the violin.

When he was three-years-old he asked to learn to play the fiddle. He was a huge cowboy-movie fan (he had two posters of John Wayne and two cowboy hats, a boat-load of toy guns and cowboy outfits and plans to own his own ranch -- after being a pilot in the U.S. Air Force). And he loved the fiddle music. He also enjoyed the Classical "fiddle" music which was often heard in our home.

So, after I learned he was serious (learned that a young child asking to play the violin was somewhat unusual) he started lessons ... And played for many years until one day, when he ever-so seriously and gently said to me, "Mom, I would like to continue to play the violin, but I don't want to take lessons anymore." (I allowed him to make this choice with confidence, despite my own sadness. He knew what he wanted; he always has.)

He played the most beautiful music; he would allow me to "hire" him for the tea parties I had with the young girls I mentored. It was wonderful. (And now he and I share other wonderful memories every day. And I still can hear his music ...)

Taking curves too fast. I'm a git-r-done kinda gal and in life (as in driving ...) I take curves too fast. A double-edged trait as it can lead to skid-time in the gravel (literal and figuratively).

Due to the roads I have traveled over during my life adventures, this need for speed has often served as more of a strength than weakness (so maybe it is actually a strength??). Doddling through a curve would simply mean that I would be delayed to the straight-of-way, get-me-there-now dot on my life-map.

This reality, however, does not negate the periodic pauses I have for taking some things too fast; and, of course, the agonizing sessions with the people in my life who need me to put my life (along their section of road) in park.

Yet, the fast curves bid me to drive on ... And I do — sometimes in secret hope of inspiring folks who wait for trains to take them (ever-so-passively) to their "hoped for and wished for" destinations.

And, honestly, I am not a person to drive in circles (waiting; offering second — third and fourth — chances) for too long. I gladly provide people, experiences and off-road adventures a decent chance of being included in my road trip. However, during the last five years, I have learned that making u-turns — the quicker the better! — once you realize you are driving on a dead-end street is the best thing for all concerned.

I know my Savior; I know my Calling; and I know God — the only red-siren I stop for.