May this next year bring all of us

More smiles
     Less face masks
More social
     Less distancing
More hugs and kisses
     Less waves and elbow bumps
More dining out
     Less eating in
More gatherings
     Less binge watching
More luxurious destinations
     Less stay-cations
More freedom
     Less restriction
More of the good
     Less of the bad
More laughter
     Less tears
More real
     Less virtual
More face and frolic
     Less Zoom and Teams
More beauty
     Less ugly
More generosity
     Less greed
More benevolence
     Less malevolence
More unity
     Less division
More love
     Less hate … less fear

Every once in a while, I get hung up on a word or phrase and wonder at its meaning. Recently, I was mulling over the meaning of “Live Your Joy.”

The back story: I was given a deck of oracle cards called Angel Prayers by Kyle Gray. I love these cards. The artwork has a modern, superhero feel, they are colorful and eye-catching, and their messages are simple and to the point. I decided to start using them nightly, mostly to break them in. Since the deck is new, the cards are stiff and still stick together in all their glossiness. Shuffling them a few times every night will eventually give them a worn-in feeling, more pliable, easier to shuffle and handle.

I recently posted a picture of some paragliders from a place at which we were boondocking outside of Salt Lake City. Flight Park State Recreation Area on Point of the Mountain is a popular location for those with parachutes and hang gliders. They take flight as the sun begins to rise over the mountain tops, and they glide with the wind until the sun sets. I enjoyed watching and capturing on camera some of their preparations, their struggles with the wind as they took off or landed, and their playfulness in the air.

Years ago, a dear friend introduced me to an album, The Music of Olympic National Park by Mars Lasar, nature sounds from the Olympic National Park (ONP) mixed with mind-relaxing, dream-enhancing orchestral music. We played it frequently while working, and I eventually bought a copy for myself—one of my favorite albums of all time. I knew that when we got to Washington, visiting Olympic National Park was a top priority for me. And it did not disappoint, exceeding my expectations, and I was not ready to leave, even though we extended our trip by a couple of days.

We were in Maggie Valley for a long weekend—a much-needed and deserved respite at the tail end of our business’s busy season amid prepping it for new ownership and downsizing our home as we get ready to travel full-time with our Airstream. And we were treating ourselves to an authentic Italian meal at Frankie’s, a popular must-do in this beautiful mountain town.

Seated in the lounge area with a baby grand piano not far from us, a pianist was tickling the ivory with relaxing, unfamiliar melodies as I enjoyed a glass of pinot grigio and fresh bruschetta piled high on made-from-scratch flatbread. When our salads were served, the musician began a new song, and soon my face was contorting, struggling to hold back a torrent of tears. I wanted to run to the restroom to have a good cry, but I would have had to pass through the entire crowded restaurant. So, I just sat there, pouring my attention and energy into my salad, hoping guests at nearby tables didn’t notice the droplets streaming down my face.