tiny houses

we stopped by a historical market today at our favorite little museum. one of the artists who was there was making these sweet little ceramic houses - each totally unique. i've had a tiny houses board on pinterest for awhile, so i had to snatch up a few of them. funny to run across them, right as i'm contemplating a tiny house of my own in the garden. a space in which to work. so it felt like fate to find them. i stupidly didn't get a card, so i can't even tell you the name of the artist. i'll tell you more about the visit soon, as it was an inspiring day, but now, it's time for bed.

my inner presbyterian

if you're a regular here at MPC, you know i have a thing about chains. they depict connections to me and i'm always trying to connect stuff. i guess because i want to believe that it's all somehow connected and that things happen for some reason, even if at the moment something happens, that reason isn't always apparent. i think of it as my inner presbyterian.

my inner presbyterian also likes doors. because she believes that when you close one door, another one opens (she learned that from her neighbor a couple of weeks ago, tho' she thinks she probably always believed it). and that it maybe even takes closing that first door in order to make the next one open. and she thinks it's pretty cool how already those doors are already opening, because it seems to be more than one. and that's pretty cool.

here's hoping there are lots of open doors helping you make lots of connections this weekend. and that you only get the 12-hour version of the swine flu, like husband did.

liminal spaces

i've long been attracted to the notion of liminality--the condition of being on a threshold or at the beginning of a process. with it there is also that sense of being in between. i've been suspended in a liminal space for nearly ten years now...living outside the country of my birth--i feel less and less that i belong in the u.s. and actively resist entirely belonging in denmark. while it can be a lonely feeling, mostly i feel it with a sense of expectant anticipation. i go through life always feeling that something is on the verge of happening. the same with being between jobs...you let go of the last one and look expectantly towards the next one. you hover on the threshold, not knowing what's ahead, but know that it must be better. it's tied for me to my ingrained presbyterian upbringing's notion of free will/destiny. although i must actively seek the next thing, at the same time, i am guided towards it by a firm hand (whose hand that is, i am not sure, but i strangely trust in the guidance). it remains hazy and unclear as of yet, but i feel in the (now) calm core of my soul that it is a brighter, better place. i feel also that it will become clear and then i'll be on the threshold of whatever is beyond. it's not really so bad, this liminal space which i inhabit.