Enjoying the Process

I often feel as though Paul Sanders is writing directly to and for me in his newsletter, Still. He has this way of reassuring me that I am on a healing and worthy path. His post today, When will I be famous?, speaks to the longing we all have to be seen and heard and underst00d. And the truth is—I am fortunate because I do have people in my life that witness my creative work and cheer me on. My husband, my sons, and my friends regularly encourage me to keep going. They let me bounce ideas off of them and indulge me when I go deep into my passion.

I am sharing an excerpt from Paul’s post today (click the link to read the full post).

In truth, nothing we create truly matters to the wider world now, but at the same time it does matter in terms of who we are.

Most of what we create is a legacy of how we lived, it will be seen by generations in the future, they will decide which of us becomes famous and whose work really mattered.

Creativity doesn’t exist to be someone it exists because you are someone. Your purpose isn’t to be famous, it is just to be who you are, truly connecting with the world in your own way, in your own time, photographing, drawing, painting, writing, making music about what your life means to you.

The most effective marks are the simplest. So many of us try to over-complicate our expression by wanting something more from it, when all we need to be is simply authentic, to embrace that wild, free creative energy we had before fear of failure and comparison stole the joy from us.

To share how we each uniquely take part in the world is our purpose, every separate expression of creativity makes the world a richer place, and most importantly it doesn’t matter what others think or feel about your work.
— Paul Sanders, Still

Too Much of A Good Thing

Lily of the Valley, A Beautiful Nuisance, Spring 2026

We spent the morning digging up a large swath of Lily of Valley that was beginning to overtake the flower bed along our sidewalk. This is not an easy job because this delicate plant with fragrant little bells has an extensive and deep root system. The plants were beginning to spread beyond the mulch into the grass. Tiny shoots were spreading and smothering nearby perennials. Fortunately, I had my gardening gloves on because I later read that all parts of this plant are poisonous and can cause skin irritation. Dave dug under the plants with a shovel, turning the soil over. I knelt and used the hand trowel to shake the plants loose. I’m sure we didn’t get all of the roots, but hopefully, most.

The job wasn’t fun, but the joy of working alongside my husband on a cool, spring morning almost made up for the hard work. I am well aware of our aging bodies and can plainly see that this kind of work will soon be too much for us. Still, we keep moving. Waiting to see what each day might bring.