For someone who always did well in school, I can be an incredibly slow learner. I’ve finally figured out that it’s way less stressful to begin to tackle home maintenance issues bit by bit, rather than to remain paralyzed by fear of how extensive or expensive something might turn out to be. I get frustrated with myself, but learning slowly isn’t always a bad thing. The various impressionists who used this place certainly kept at it for a while.

And I’ve been learning French little by little for the past fifteen years, decades longer than that, if you count my first class in fifth grade and my subsequent start-stop efforts. What matters is that I can now actually carry on a conversation, even if there’s still plenty to learn.

I’m also making slow but steady progress in Spanish. I actually had a tiny exchange of words (calling it a conversation would be a massive exaggeration) with a native Spanish-speaker working on one of the aforementioned maintenance issues at my house.

Yes, I know I can’t seem to figure out that if I want more of this . . .

I should actually leave my house.

If I want to see more sunrises like these . . .

I should get up earlier. If I want to improve on the piano, I should play it on a regular basis. If I want more of my poems to be published, I should submit more of them for consideration.

I get it, all these and more. Maybe you do, too, now that we’re at the end of January and ambitious New Year’s resolutions may be feeling unsustainable. How about we grant ourselves a little grace?

Maybe it’s fine to play the piano as well as I can whenever I can and leave it at that, to be proud of the poems that have been published and to send out more only when a specific contest or opportunity feels like a good fit. Less angst, more savoring.

Why not simply accept that sunsets can also be beautiful?

Even here, right out my back door.

And if seeing more sunsets than sunrises fits my life, what’s wrong with that? Not one thing.

So as I write this, I’m praying you keep at it, whatever “it” is for you, but also that you give yourself grace when you’re not perfect or immediately brilliant or making progress at the speed of light. I’m praying for you grace and encouragement and peace every faltering step of the way.

Okay, that sounds either more adventurous or more grim than I intended. As far as I know, I’m not going anywhere at the moment, so let me explain. I was recently asked to contribute to an upcoming exhibit at ArtSpace in Loveland (Colorado)* by writing an ekphrastic poem to accompany a photograph by Robin Snyder. It’s a beautiful close-up of what I believe to be a couple of African violet leaves–NOT pictured below–so I wrote a poem called “Leaving.” I don’t have the right to share either the photo or the poem with you here, but I can offer you a few of my leafy photos to get you in the spirit of it:

And here’s one of my favorites from Courtney . . .

Ekphrastic poetry is simply writing a poem in response to a work of art. What I love about it is that by focusing on artistic details, I find that my mind opens in a fresh way to other images and ideas.

In this case, Robin Snyder’s photo is primarily of the beautiful underside of one of the leaves, with the prominent veins and striking coloration, which I noticed was so much more interesting than the other leaf in the photo, “right-side” up, showing only the smooth, perfect top we normally see. How could I not see a lesson there? How much energy do we all put into showing only the most perfect, smooth version of ourselves?

Then I noticed how the spread of the veins resembled the extensor tendons that become increasing visible on aging hands, mine, certainly, but I also David’s at the end, when the world was no longer in his grasp, when all he could do was take the outstretched merciful hand of God bringing him home, as he left this world behind.

I pray for you today, that the things you’re leaving behind are worry, shame, resentment, bitterness and their ilk, and that you get to keep your dear ones for a while longer. I hope you cherish every day.

Grace and peace to you, my friends, as we leave 2023 and head into this new year!

*I’ll be reading my poem during Loveland’s monthly Night on the Town. Here’s more info, in case you’d like to see the exhibit and hear the poems: https://visitloveland.com/events/night-on-the-town-4/ 

I’m not exactly sure where I’m headed . . .

but I do know education opens doors.

I’m thinking a lot about language, specifically, these days: poetic language, certainly, as I’ve just finished one poetry class and begun another, but also because I’ve started learning Spanish. Even if I never make it back to Mexico . . .

. . . the learning itself is worth the effort.

I absolutely won’t stop French. I’m loving the progress I’ve made and there’s still plenty to learn. But I’ve finally achieved a level that won’t be compromised by beginning another related language. I’d thought about Italian, but Spanish is more useful here in Colorado, so Italian will have to get in line.

So far, it doesn’t feel like such an uphill climb this time.

French is a big help, and bonus: fewer accents to remember in Spanish.

I love kids’ fearlessness with language. They’ll repeat anything without hesitation. These darling girls, now in high school, never lived nearby.

I didn’t get to enjoy much of their early speaking years, so I’m definitely making the most of any time I have with Beckett and Brooks.

The quality of Beckett’s and even Brooks’ French pronunciation keeps surprising me. I know it has to do with brain plasticity (or something else I know nothing about), but I wonder if it might also be because they haven’t yet convinced themselves that it’s hard. They take it as it comes, one sound, one word at a time. There’s a lesson in that.

In this time of unending, heartbreaking news, I’m trying to speak kindly in all languages I know or attempt. And more than ever, I’m seeking out kindness in the voices I listen to, wherever my path takes me.

I recommend the podcast “Everything Happens with Kate Bowler” or check out her website here. The best introduction to it may be the interview I heard on another podcast that is absolutely worth your time: “On Being with Krista Tippett” here’s a link to it.

I hope they inspire you, refresh you, and bring a smile to your face. Wishing you, as always, grace and peace–and kindness.