Buttercups in Bloom

Blue is painted across the sky. Green blades of grass fill the landscape.  The mountains rising up on my left as I make my way across a blue lane highway in southern Tennessee. Music would not keep my mind from wandering and so for one hour and forty-one minutes this morning I listened to The Archers; my BBC podcast.  The characters kept my heart from racing and my mind from creating a sense of anxiousness. The address on my Google Maps led me to this charming house nestled in a beautiful, old neighborhood.  Three white rockers on the front porch sat ready for guest.  As I turned in, the host opened the door and as I stepped onto the porch she embraced me with a sincere and warm hug. One by one, greetings turned into expressions of embrace. Conversations began. Opening ourselves to who we are, where we see the path unfolding for us, and where we might just be in the years to come. Vulnerability, creating a new culture. Grace and the goodness of sharing a meal together. Ca

I haven't been hiking in months but on Monday I laced up my shoes, put in my earbud (yes, only one because I like to hear all the sounds around me) and stepped out onto the trail.  It's a trail that I have traveled over and over in the past 6 years. I know the twist and turns. I know the nuances of the elevation. I know where the mile markers are without looking down at the app on my phone. I know how long the hike takes (even when I am hiking at my slowest). I know where the rocks are and which ones are steady enough to plant my feet upon. I know where the ground is going to be soft from holding water from the latest rain. The path is familiar.  The path is known. And yet, in the midst of the familiarity, it was hard.  My feet had not traveled the path in more months than I can count.  My muscles felt tight.  My breathing a bit harder as the elevation climbed and then dropped.  It was familiar and yet so different.  The last time I attempted to hike this trail was l