Which leads to my thinking about blogging about where I’ve been. Which feels overwhelming, which means I do nothing about it, then feel like I need to start blogging again. And so it continues.
Except that this morning I realized that what I really want to do is just ramble a bit about what’s been going on in life, which is all awesome in the real meaning of the word – “filled with awe and wonder at the power of life” (and not “great” or “magnificent.”) What I really want to do is to just take a breath and catch you up, like we used to do in letters back before email (remember that?), when we would realize it had been so long that we didn’t even know where to start.
Which is what this is – a letter to catch up. And it begins, “Dear friends…”
* * * * *
It’s been a while. I’m sorry to have been so disconnected these past two months. It feels like suddenly life stepped in, took control, and then took every bit of the time that might otherwise have been spent connecting.
It started with my birthday in late August, when I took a few days and hid away in a lovely and large AirBnB among the summer wildflowers of Flagstaff.
Within days of being home from those few days of respite, before I’d even caught up on emails and bill-paying, the 51 year old husband of my might-as-well-be-second-daughter was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia. And within 2 weeks of walking into urgent care complaining of congestion, he was gone.
I missed the memorial because I had already left for Northern Nevada – the photos of the horses that I posted almost a month ago. The work there was intense and amazing – day after day of teaching and coaching and speaking and convening community conversations (not to mention celebrating with 4 of our Creating the Future fellows!).
Driving south to head home, we decided to take a few days to decompress in Zion and Bryce – not realizing that waking early each morning to drive to those beautiful spots, hiking all day, then driving back – that was work, too.
In the week I was home before heading to northern Michigan, my daughter’s beloved 32 year old cousin died suddenly, four days before his wedding to the love of his life. The memorial was held at the wedding chapel, because it was already paid for and people were already gathering…
And then I was on a plane to Michigan, where magic happened in a million ways, with work that was better every day than the day before – where I spoke about possibility to 300 foundation leaders, taught consultants how to bring out the best in their clients and themselves, and then walked along Lake Michigan, watching as the leaves turned from green to red and then fell to the ground.
And now I’m home. It’s been just 2 months, but feels like so much longer than that. I’m seriously hoping no one else gets suddenly sick or suddenly dies, doing my best to cherish moments, chastising myself when I forget that. I’m working my tail off to simply respond to the avalanche of interest those two trips generated. I’m getting accustomed to the highs and lows of the roller coaster evening out a bit.
And I’m hoping to be in better touch with the people for whom I pen this blog. (And in writing those words, I realized that includes not just you, my friends who read this blog, but to be better in touch with me, as someone who can only think things through by seeing what comes out of my pen.)
And so that’s that. I have intended to blog about the results of my sabbatical. I have intended to blog about all I learned in Northern Nevada, and all I experienced there. And to blog about all I learned and experienced in northern Michigan. And to blog about the work we have embarked upon at Creating the Future, as we wrap up 2014 and prepare to dive into an ambitious plan for 2015.
I will do so. It may not be a “post,” though. It may just be a letter, like this one, sharing with you what has been truly awesome in that most basic meaning of the word.
Because yes, you are “blog readers.” But mostly you are dear friends.
Photos in order: Me at Bryce National Park, Wildflowers in Flagstaff AZ, red rocks in Zion National Park, the majesty of Bryce Canyon / Bryce National Park, autumn leaves on Lake Michigan.