emotional motes

Trying to catch my breath. Enjoying cafe au lait from the beautiful Belle Epicurean Parisian bakery & cafe in Seattle. I can't yet vouch for their sandwiches, but their croissants and desserts are heavenly.

A major theme in my life this last year has been boundaries.

[Boundaries are good]

I like boundaries. I've always liked them, and I learned through my early adulthood that losing them in relationships, or never having them, can only be damaging. My parents, siblings and I have begun meeting monthly to discuss a book on boundaries--among other things--we've all been reading. How lack of them have affected us and how to put them in place in a healthy way throughout our lives. I don't think many families, parents and children, would have the love, mutual respect and trust to meet and work out painful things in their pasts the way mine are, and I'm really proud to be part of it.

Not being able to set appropriate boundaries around oneself is a recipe for emotional exhaustion, at best, and at worst, a whole host of hurt that I'm not interested in putting myself through. Unfortunately, we don't always have a choice.

~ * ~

These foolish flowers by my front door have been duped into thinking Spring is eminent... valiant stupidity. We've had a couple weeks of mild weather, and now I'm afraid we'll have a cold snap that'll kill everything that's struggling to bloom all throughout my yard, and doom us to an ugly Spring once she finally rolls in.