The Blank Page

Adjusting to life in retirement

Steeped in Thought

by Debra VanDeventer

green tea with lemon

a beautiful way to greet

a blank page

That was then….

The alarm wakes me from a fitful sleep at 4:45 am. I roll out of bed, make a potty stop, then a few minutes of yoga to try to prepare myself for the intense day ahead. Breakfast, shower, dress, out the door by 6:30, at school by 7. Adrenaline pumping. Prepared (most mornings) to greet 25-30 energetic kindergarteners, first graders or, later in my career, fourth graders. Done. Click. Repeat. For 37 years. 

This is now….

Sunlight streaming through the slats in the window blinds rouses me from a restful night’s sleep. The days are lengthening and the sun will wake me a few minutes earlier each day. My biological clock adjusts itself to the rhythm of daylight and darkness. This morning’s yoga session is leisurely, breakfast and a walk follows. After showering, I put on comfy leggings and a soft tunic top. Shoes are optional. The tea kettle signals my morning brew is ready. I make my way to my office/studio, open my journal and greet…

Loose Threads

Pathways to Creativity

In my very first blog post, I showed this picture of my “studio” space I’d designed to support my creative life after retirement. http://seamslikeastory.com/creating-a-space-to-sew-and-write

I’ll admit, I was a young, naïve Blogger(two months ago) eager to impress my audience. One reader suggested it was “too neat to be true.”  I have a confession to make. It doesn’t always look like the photo. You see, my creative life has a split personality.

Different pathways to creativity

I contribute my dichotomy of styles to my parents, Jack and Alice.

Jack liked to have things tidy and organized. If he needed a pencil, sheet of paper, or pair of scissors he knew right where to find them in his organized desk. On the other hand, when Alice got an inspiration, it often took over our household in a flurry of activity leaving an unruly mess in its wake. Dad learned to take refuge in his office when this happened, only peeking out when order had been restored.  Sometimes I’m Jack. I love it when I can go to my sewing pegboard and find my scissors just where they should be, or look at my pattern filing system and take pride that I’d put things back where they belonged. But sometimes, a burst of Alice takes over and I find myself following loose threads.
 I recently had a “loose threads” morning.  It went something like this: