A Cerulean Blue Existence

Kaelin

First off, I’d like to introduce you to Kaelin, born Wednesday, October 6, 2010. She is my eighth grandchild and my daughter Jessica and hubby Tim’s first child. Long anticipated and joyfully received and welcomed to, and by, all of her family.

Today’s prompt is from Writer’s Island prompt #24  Envision
http://writersisland.wordpress.com/

Envision

Wouldn’t it be great
if it was just that easy?
Drape sky over clothesline,
keep it in place with a few
well placed clothespins,
beat it on occasion
with a dust-buster
to freshen it, remove
the gray staleness
of depression, sadness, sorrow,
and all their clinging little
sisters. And when
storm clouds might appear
on distant horizon, just skip
outside, lift it’s satin hem
and there, behold a brand new
cerulean blue existence?

I just went back and read my very first blog post on WordPress, dated August 8, 2008. I have no idea what I envisioned at that time, maybe a few visitors who liked what I had to say and would join me on occasion to talk about life and its ongoing surprises and dealings. I certainly never thought that first blog would multiply into four, or that I would now be juggling all of these words, comments, and responses. But then, I never thought I would be the grandmother of eight beautiful grandchildren. Life is full of surprises.

This particular blog is aimed at helping people to enhance their intuitive and imaginative faculties. And I often write how if one can see a thing (envision it), then it is possible. One of the things I have learned here, is that we are very often stingy with our visions. Like the individual in the above image, we only lift a corner, take a quick peek, and then drop that hem of present day sky and walk away. What we can see scares us.

Had I known what that first short essay would give birth to, I might never have written it. So, maybe it’s a good thing I only took a bit of a peek and then wrote the essay and crossed my fingers. Yesterday, as I traveled through my blogs, responding to comments left by various visitors, I found a rather wonderful quote left by one of them. The quote is by Vaclar Havel:

Hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense, regardless of how it turns out.

Two years ago, it made sense to me to write about writing and the value it holds in my personal landscape. It was what I had been teaching for ten years, and it was something I had a great deal of knowledge about. I had no idea what the outcome would be, but I had definitely lifted that satin hem and caught that glimpse of bluer than blue sky.

Was I scared? You bet I was. I could have easily stopped myself right there. What if no one wanted to hear what I had to say? What if no one ever showed up and read it? What if someone did find it and commented on how stupid, or silly it was to even put down those particular words? Doubt steps in so fast to convince us that we may have caught that glimpse of blue, but was that particular shade even real or worse, not meant for us at all and just a tease that would end poorly, or worse?

And there we go, jumping the gun, running out in front of ourselves, waving caution flags before we’ve even let that hue really settle in and make itself known. How do I know this? Because I’ve been watching myself do just that for the past week.

Have watched myself wait until dusk, because at dusk although one can still see, chances are one might not be seen. Watched myself slowly creep outside to where I have hung my particular blanket of sky, carefully and quietly approach what I have draped over that clothesline and pinned in place and defined as my future. Pinch it between two trembling fingers and lift it slowly, then drop it fast and run like hell back to the safety of my bedroom and its familiar, thus comforting shadows.

And now here I am, taking the first step toward what I saw when I lifted that satin hem. It wasn’t new, not totally or completely. It was definitely a brighter shade of blue and blue is the color of knowledge and wisdom. But, I did see it, and now am writing about it. That means, although I’m questioning, and even scared, I’m committing myself to these words on the page.

No, I don’t know what it means, but I do know that it makes sense. I don’t know where it will take me or might end up, but I’ve been in this place before (just over two years ago), and can only follow the signs that have been placed in my path. A path that has slowly unfolded because I caught that glimpse two years ago and followed it, one step at a time.

Now, I am here, and have received a comment from someone I have never met face to face, but someone who cares enough to encourage me to continue by leaving me with a quote that is precisely what I needed to hear and to know at precisely this moment.

All because I dared to grasp that satin hem and lift it and hope that what made sense would come out somehow in the end. It did. So, I will do it again, no matter the voices of doubt, I have seen that cerulean blue in my future. Have you?

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About 1sojournal

Loves words and language. Dances on paper to her own inner music. Loves to share and keeps several blogs to facilitate that. They can be found here: http://1sojournal.wordpress.com/ http://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/ http://claudetteellinger.wordpress.com/
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28 Responses to A Cerulean Blue Existence

  1. Diane T says:

    Elizabeth, congratulations on the birth of your eighth grandchild. Kaelin, what a beautiful name. I liked your points about not worrying too much about caution flags, but going and DOING and seeing where it goes. I think blogging is good for that. We put our words down, not knowing how others will react, but trusting anyway.

    Your poem is a good one. I like thinking about a ‘cerulean blue existence.’

    Thank you, Diane. And yes, I agree with you about the blogging and how it helps to just put one step out there getting us closer to whatever goal we might have in our sights. It was an especially important one in my own process of trusting, both myself and others.

    The poem was a very impulsive spur of the moment thing that arose as soon as I saw the image for today’s prompt. I love it when that happens,

    Elizabeth

  2. Wonderful post, as always. And yes, it is a little frightening to lift the corner and take a peak, but I think it does make sense — all of it. I love it when a little idea starts stirring, and we don’t know…don’t even know what it is or what it is about. But suddenly everything makes a shift, and soon it all looks “right.” We wondered why we every doubted?

    • 1sojournal says:

      Annell, some of us even go so far as to say and believe that the doubts never happened or were ever really a part of the process. It is human nature to doubt. The doubt may not last long, may even be set aside almost immediately by an individual who was fortunate to be raised with a level of high self-esteem, but for the majority of us they do exist and we need to work with them. And yes, then the shift happens and it suddenly all falls into place. Thanks for the words,

      Elizabeth

  3. Wonderful post, as always. And yes, it is a little frightening to lift the corner and take a peak, but I think it does make sense — all of it. I love it when a little idea starts stirring, and we don’t know…don’t even know what it is or what it is about. But suddenly everything makes a shift, and soon it all looks “right.” We wondered why we every doubted?

    I don’t really understand all of your blog sites? Can you help me, I am still pretty new in the hood.

  4. Deborah says:

    First many congratulations on your lovely grandaughter,
    and secondly what a wonderful post, an absolute pleasure to read and I hope to see cerulean blue in my future too, very soon! :o)

    • 1sojournal says:

      Deborah, thanks for the congrats and she looks like my daughter and her great grandmother. I really like that image of cerulean blue as the future. Glad you are hoping for it as well,

      Elizabeth

  5. Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot to comment on the beautiful baby. I know you are very proud, and will look forward to getting to know this little person! Congratulations.

    • 1sojournal says:

      No apologies necessary Annell. I am looking forward to getting to know her. Hoping to get there by the end of next week, can’t wait, babies are so special,

      Elizabeth

  6. Congratulations to the arrival of your new family member!
    Loved your post. Very true and encouraging words.

  7. anthonynorth says:

    Congrats on the grandchild. Beginning to blog is always an uneasy affair, but if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t be magical.

  8. Susannah says:

    Congratulations and what a beautiful name for your wonderful grand daughter!

    I absolutely adore the poem you wrote here.

    …and I am surrounded by cerulean blue and it is beautiful!

  9. Mary says:

    Congratulations on your newest grandchild. New life is always wonderful. And your poem was inspired, just a beautiful response to the prompt today.

    • 1sojournal says:

      Thank you Mary, for being such a loyal visitor. And yes new life is wonderful and often comes to fill the holes left by other departures. The poem was definitely inspired by the image from the prompt, and quite direct without much revision. But, the more I read it, the more I like it.

      Elizabeth

  10. Irene says:

    Kaelin is beautiful. Your poem is lovely. And the quote, it is awesome. Love love how you wrote the image. It inspired me to revise my writing. Elizabeth, 8 grand children sounds grand and 8 is the symbol of the mystical knot.

    • 1sojournal says:

      The quote came from Annell who left it on my sojournal site. It so fit where I am in the present moment that I had to find a way to include it here. Thank you for the compliment, Irene, but then you have inspired me and my writing on several occasions. And I’ve never heard that particular symbolism for the number 8. That brings up a lot of different images. Thanks much, and my daughter called me today, she and the baby are home and fine and making all the necessary adjustments.

      Elizabeth

  11. pamela says:

    Elizabeth 8 grandchildren. Wow! A big hug and congrats to you and your family!
    I love the poem!
    Pamela

    • 1sojournal says:

      Thanks Pamela, I think I’m impressed as well, lol. Thanks for the hug and one backatcha. Glad you enjoyed the poem, it’s growing on me as well,

      Elizabeth

  12. vivinfrance says:

    What a heartwarming post, Elizabeth. The grandchild, a wonderful excuse for looking into the future; the poem, its fabulous idea, will stay with me for a long time, specially the final few lines “when storm clouds might appear on distant horizon, just skip outside, lift it’s satin hem and there, behold a brand new cerulean blue existence” and the prose, which is just as heartwarming.

    • 1sojournal says:

      Thank you much Viv. I loved the image and the words that started dancing through my head the moment I saw it. That in turn put me in an up mood and I guess carried me through the essay. I love mixing and blending all those genres together, lol. It is both satisfying and gives me a fuller sense of completion when it’s done.

      Elizabeth

  13. systematicweasel says:

    Congrats on the new addition to your family! =) Beginning a blog is a tough ride, but is completely worth it. I think as we go through and keep up with ourselves we see some pretty astounding things about ourselves. It’s always a trip to go back to your first post and see how you’ve grown. Awesome post! =)

  14. Tilly Bud says:

    Congratulations to you and your family 🙂

  15. Jingle says:

    8th grandchild, October 6, wow, almost 10 days old,
    what an uplifting news…

    🙂
    blessings!

    • 1sojournal says:

      Jingle, thanks on behalf of my family and I’m still waiting to see her. At the rate I’m moving she’ll be crawling before I get there. But, we are all happy for my daughter and her husband. Thank you for the blessings,

      Elizabeth

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