I'm still a work in progress . . .

I’m not the person I thought I’d grow up to be. Not a movie star, not a missionary, not a mother. My teaching career was short lived. I have twice abandoned educational goals. My home is not furnished in contemporary Scandinavian style. My social life and network are sketchy. My artistic talents - whatever they may be - have not been nurtured or refined. The world won’t remember my work. My voice is rarely heard; my opinions, rarely sought. I am not even a self-proclaimed expert in any field.

I have done things I never contemplated for myself, and am proud of my work. I married a man I wouldn’t date, and he loves me. I am a step mother and a grandmother. My home is comfortably furnished in overstuffed leather and antiques. I cook for pleasure and entertainment - indulgence; people like my food. I have breathed life into festivals and programs and lives; now they stand on their own.

My path has taken many unexpected turns. Along the way, I have stumbled, and have been diverted.. Was it lack of conviction or ambition? Or something else, as doors opened and others were barred. I like to think that, in the scheme of things, every step along the way has been necessary, even if not deliberate. I have tested the waters in many different landscapes. I have taught, have led, have created, have loved, and I have been loved.

I am not the person I thought I’d grow up to be, because - as a child - I never could have conceived this life.

Life must be understood backwards, but . . . it must be lived forward.
Soren Kierkegaard