152 days have passed since I started writing this blog. Today marks my 100th blog or “pearl”. I think about the journey of this blog in just 5 months, and I’ve been caught unaware by its power over my everydays. Inspiration comes at me like I’m riding my bike on the bike path, slow enough to take notice of every little thing — change in season, bird, scent and sound, and at other times like wind-blowing-through-my-helmet-standing-up-cruising-down-the -hill-as-fast-as-I-can exhilaration. It’s thoughtful and risky, it’s all those things in between.
Truly, it’s not what I expected, even though I expected absolutely nothing. I thought I would be writing like when I was a kid, sharing my deepest, silliest, scariest, and most profound thoughts under the blankets with a flashlight, scrawling with a red pen in a diary with a gold lock and a missing key. The diary vulnerable for anyone to see, judge, decide, if all those things inside me matter even at all.
I thought my twin, hubby, son, daughter and a few random friends and family would take a look-see and then pat my head and say, “Good for you for writing, you have needed to devote time to it for a long while. I’m proud of you…” That was the amount of thinking and ruminating and even dreams I spent on the creation of this blog.
Harmony’s Pearls is like the young girl who met her bad boy and everything literally stopped on this planet. You all had to have felt the world change, too, right? I mean, it was epic, and yet it came unplanned, oh it was dreamed of, but none of those dreams came true, no this surpassed that, way surpassed simple dreams.
It was like when we were a young couple, I was still taking night classes to get my degree in something, anything at this point, and we’d been married a year and a half, and had hubby’s boss over for chicken dinner. We sat there chasing Rice-a-roni around our plates and his boss asked if we were going to have children. We shrugged, I still wanted to get that degree, and he said, almost verbatim (that’s how pivotal his statement was),”You know, Rick is doing a great job in the business, he’s going to move up. There’s plenty of time to take classes throughout your life, you guys should think about starting a family.”
And that was enough for us to say,”Hey, yah, let’s.” while snuggling in our water bed late that night (we all had water beds back then, right?) And four months later our child was conceived with nothing but the mere mention of starting a family, and absolutely no thought or even discussion before that fateful chicken and rice supper. But, boy, did the sweet dreams for that baby come then.
It’s a life we created — a child with his own will, character, gifts and dreams, and later a beautiful daughter with hers. It’s a mom and dad loving them, guiding them, keeping them safe, getting them inoculated, giving them time to tell their stories even when it was baby babble, soothing sad hearts, watching them roll over, crawl, cruise, walk, run, ride bikes, scooters, drive cars, all of a sudden out of sight, in mere moments, and then onward through college and into adulthood. Those dreams of that young couple snuggled in the water bed, yah, those dreams were far surpassed by these wonderful human beings, even if we did everything right, with some of it wrong.
While this blog may not seem on the same powerful plane as marriage and parenthood, in some weird way it is, actually. It is for me. Something I created. It’s a potent record of my life, and yours maybe, if you see yourself in the arms of a bad boy, in a water bed on a cold night in November 1982, and even though the details are different, you DO see yourself, you remember those dreams of youth and a big happy scary future spread out in front of you.
And what about that big happy scary future? It’s STILL THERE! What will me make of it? That deserves some blogging, too.
If I’d dared to dream about this blog, I wouldn’t have come close as I think about the past 152 days, 100 “pearls”, 5831 views, 233 comments, 348 tags, 83 blogger followers, 274 followers total, 100s of likes, and the readers from 28 countries throughout this amazing world and the journey thus far. I think about the big happy scary future ahead, and I dream of the pearls that await me, will I see them, feel them, hear them? Not all pearls are happy, some are sad and carry the weight of the world, at least my world, and maybe yours, too. And that is life, too, and we don’t know how those precious pearls will shape us or show us who we are. My dream is that I will find them at all, and like my marriage and children, I hope the pearls far surpass my dreams.