Messy Mama creations and patterns
Here’s to the Old Year and all it brought us and taught us; and here’s to the New Year and all its potential for new life, renewed connections, and continued love.
And, hopefully, another big adventure!
Looking back over 2014 it’s been….. interesting. I’ve found and lost and re-found my creative flow, and discovered reserves of strength I didn’t know I had. I’ve found new ways of letting my creativity out when I’ve literally not had the space to do what I used to love doing. Creativity will always find a way through.
I’ve been brought back to a meme I jotted down years ago:
“Art is the means by which we communicate what it is to be alive” – Anthony Gormley
And it’s so true. When I create, I feel alive. When I let energy flow through me when I put paint to paper, or when I take my pens to start drawing, my spirit, my inner Self, has a chance to communicate.
I’ve been so inspired by so many people over the year. Fibre artists, photographers, painters, sculpters, poets, cake decorators, musicians. I’ve crocheted, painted, drawn, woven, photographed, iced, sculpted, written poems, and turned poems into songs. I’ve had precious snatched moments to sit at my beloved piano and play and sing and let freedom and feeling flow through my fingers and voice.
I’ve had innumerable cuddles from my babies who are so quickly growing up. I’ve watched one make the transition from balance bike to pedal bike, and I’ve watched the other one not wait for his legs to grow long enough to reach the bottom rung of ladders at the park – figuring out how to climb up slides instead. He won’t be beaten by such a thing as size! We’ve listened as language and vocal skills have grown, we’ve watched as penmanship has grown from scribbles to recognisable letters.
I’ve watched so many sunsets from our bedroom as I’ve settled children to sleep, watched the moon travel across the sky, listened to their breathing, discovered a love for poetry in my eldest who asks for poems as his bedtime stories. Found some incredibly beautiful poems that have caught in my throat as I try to read them to my children.
And to the things that have tried to make 2014 a difficult year to live through, I WILL NOT BE BEATEN. You so very nearly got me at the end here, but….
God Is my strength when I am weak,
God Is my patience when mine has run out.
God Is my love when I feel I can’t cope,
God Is my grace when I just want to scream.
Anything that I have none left of, God Is.
And when I’ve reached the end of my rope, He is still there with me.
And for that, I am grateful.
We started the year with positivity and energy, but still feeling heartbreak from leaving what we thought was to be our “forever” home. We’ve reached the end with a great deal less energy, but feeling a lot more at peace – and excited! And we’re looking forward to next year, which holds so much potential for new life, renewed connection, continued love.
And this, this will be tonight’s bedtime poem.
Ring Out, Wild Bells
– Lord Alfred Tennyson
Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light:
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.
Ring out the old, ring in the new,
Ring, happy bells, across the snow:
The year is going, let him go;
Ring out the false, ring in the true.
Ring out the grief that saps the mind
For those that here we see no more;
Ring out the feud of rich and poor,
Ring in redress to all mankind.
Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.
Ring out the want, the care, the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes
But ring the fuller minstrel in.
Ring out false pride in place and blood,
The civic slander and the spite;
Ring in the love of truth and right,
Ring in the common love of good.
Ring out old shapes of foul disease;
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.
Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.