The following entries (from beginning runner to half marathon finisher) represents a continuing journey of tremendous grief and sorrow, and of transformation - largely through the therapeutic power of running. The sorrow that has broken my heart open wide has in time allowed me to experience the beauty of being in the present moment. And of course, without the support of family and friends to guide me, I would not have made it this far.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
NO END TO PASSION
Somewhere in the desert of New Mexico
Last week I traveled to New Mexico and spent a week with my sister. The purpose of the trip was to drive to Santa Fe and attend the Indian Market. For the last two years I have driven the thousand miles to Santa Fe to sell my paintings. This year I did not sell at the market but decided to go and experience it as a "tourist". I'm so glad I did. I was not able to walk around and visit all the artists in previous years as the market strongly suggests you be in your booth at all times. But this time I did and saw so many beautiful things and met so many talented people.
A few years ago Kristy helped me to prepare for my first market. I set up my booth in the living room and we hung all the paintings. She had a good eye. She also helped me name each piece. She took her time and made sure everything was ready to go. Unfortunately she had a race during the same weekend but we often talked about her coming with me in the future.
Now more than ever I think of our conversations about the future. Her passion - triathlon competition, and my passion - painting. We were committed to helping each other to reach our goals. When I say reach I really mean surpass - both of us knew we would never be satisfied but would always strive to achieve more. You can never reach the end of your passion. It is always there to drive you on. It's what keeps you going.
As my sister and I drove through the vast New Mexico desert we spoke about Kristy. She was present with us every step of the way. I can never forget her strength - I find it is always there if I open my heart and listen.
Labels: memory of Kristy