Hi Everyone,

Life is full of seasons.

I’m not talking about the traditional Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter seasons, although those elements are visible in the life seasons. I’m talking about the routine challenges that either gently embrace us or slam us in the face.

The ups and downs of our lives are constantly molding us, shaping and refining our perspectives and understanding of both the world around us and inside ourselves. Each event and experience will enlighten or mellow us, challenge or soften us, or maybe just leave us questioning our past and future choices.

And with all of that comes the realization that I am not the same person I was when I started this blog in 2014. I’m just not.

I turned 69 last month. According to society, I’m elderly. I still think and feel and love the same way. Hubby and I still tell each other crazy jokes. I play and chase my grandkids both toddlers now, when I’m in Japan. I travel, and garden and we are currently replacing the flooring in the house, room by room, board by board. My trim cuts are getting straighter. Next month I’m starting to replace my electric outlets. I’m an Herbalist. I spent the last two years studying medicinal plants and identifying all of the native plants in my wild semi-rural yard. I don’t think I look elderly, but I am a little stiffer in the joints than I used to be. My house and yard are not old looking. My sheds in the garden have dragon flies, trolls, and dragonflies painted in my favorite colors.

But I now routinely get encouraging mailers from the Neptune Society telling me to make decisions on my final choices, invites to have my hearing tested, and notices to make sure I have enough life insurance. All of which go directly into the recycling.

I’m discovering (or perhaps rediscovering) my inner rebel. I was raised to stay silent and not speak up. I had a “place” where I was supposed to remain, playing by someone else rules and living unobtrusively. I hate to say it, but that was so common in my “generation.” That way of thinking never set well with me, but I always felt alone in that respect; never quite fitting in and definitely the family black sheep.

Now, societal norms be damned.

I think, in part at least, having ovarian cancer 7 years ago, released my spirit. Cancer does that. Most people don’t know that the emotional aftermath of cancer can be more life changing than the agonizing treatments to stop the disease. Every cancer survivor I have met has a rebel spirit that is fully released or screaming and kicking at the door to be let out. Cancer takes any unresolved or buried trauma that you have carried internally and dumps it back into your brain. You have to deal with it. It is relentless.

Cancer also moves you to a different place of emotional growth. Gone is the polite chatter about all of the mundane and surfacy topics. We just don’t have the time or patience for that. We tend to go deep pretty quickly, or don’t talk at all, because, you know, life is short. It doesn’t seem to matter at this point if cancer hits you when you are young or old. The response is the same.

So, back to the subject of seasons and changes. I haven’t written much at all in the past couple of years. And honestly, most of it is because I have censored myself. Those old habits of staying silent rearing their ugly heads, I guess. No, scratch that, I know it’s that, along with a huge dose fear of rejection built in.

I have always wanted this blog to be about joy. Truthfully, finding, keeping and spreading the joy hasn’t been coming as easily as it used to. I figured if I couldn’t be up and positive, I should just stay silent.

As I have been reflecting on my life seasons, though, I realize that idea is really dumb. As tough as life has sometimes been, I have regained small snippets of joy every day and in small, amazing ways. And those deserved to be shared. So says my rebel self.

I am not sure how this blog will evolve in the coming weeks. But I do know that I’m going to give my experiences some free reign. It would be great if others can find some use in it. Or, even see my bits of joy as inspiration to find their own. But if not, that’s okay.

I need to do it for me.