Adapt And Rise . . .

Sometimes, life requires we adapt and rise.

This Spring I met with an Architect that a good friend of mine referred to me. We discussed my building plans over coffee at a local bistro. And voila, she drafted a set of prints I intended to start developing this Autumn upon my return home from the radar site. However, two weeks into my three month long work assignment, I sustained a chemical inhalation burn. Whereupon, I boarded a plane, flew back to Anchorage, visited the Emergency Room and from there . . . I've experienced nothing but a medical odyssey and a struggle to regain my health. 

As I've logged a mere 263 hours to date on 2023's W2, constructing my home is not a reality this year nor even the next. You can imagine my disappointment and frustration at this turn of events. During my arduous recovery, I've driven to my property, parked my car on my newly excavated and very empty pad and sat there . . . dejected.  

Growing weary of my pouty frame of mind, I eventually committed to counting my blessings. And though I initially begrudged, my attempts at giving thanks have served to help shift my self-pitying perspective. For I've learned, through hard times, that with even a mustard seed size of faith accompanied with a modicum amount of gratitude I view my difficulties with possibility.

Instead of woe-is-meing my way through this trial, I'm adjusting. I trimmed down my 1500 square foot home, with its south facing wall of windows and its peek-a-boo view of the lake and my much needed lofted art studio, to a humble 504 square foot shell.

At some point in the future, I'd planned on placing a rental cabin on the property. For now, I'll hunker down here and call this home for a while. The work is just beginning, as evidenced from the photos below. But, with patience accompanied by a proper perspective my project will come together in due course.

Life is gloriously messy, that's the deal. And how we work our way through the glory and how we work our way through the mess - this is key.