KatrinaWightman.com

What’s up!

I have been a busy bee. I spent the last weekend in June in Denver at Mile High Blues. I had the opportunity to dance with dancers of all skill levels. They each had their own style of dancing and leading. I also attended several workshops. It was a wonderful weekend and I learned a great deal.

This past week we had a big 4th of July celebration at our house. We played board games, danced, and indulged on some great food.

This week I will be moving my only child to her 1st apartment. I am sure there will be a post about that at some point in the future. As well as one about my Travels that will take me home at the end of this month.

Have a lovely day!

Dancing

I competed in my first ballroom dance competition this past weekend. The picture is of the dress I wore for the latin/rhythm dances (Cha-Cha, Rumba, and East Coast Swing). I also competed in smooth dances (Foxtrot, Waltz, and Tango). I had a blast and definitely have competition fever. Next one is at home in September. I am super excited. Back to the studio!

It wasn’t mine not to give.

For thirty-three years it was a part of me. Yet, when I got the call I knew it had never really been mine. I was merely the custodian. I guess that is why I didn’t hesitate to do what most people thought a courageous act of kindness. You see to me there was only one course of action

A few weeks before I received the call, I had followed my heart and been tested as a potential kidney donor for one of my law school classmate’s husband. I did not know the classmate but that did not matter.

I was surprised when I received the call that I was a really good match and they asked me to donate. Several thoughts flooded my mind but one drowned out all the others. It’s not mine not to give. In my mind it was settled. In the summer of 2008, a few weeks before my second year of law school, I relinquished custody of my kidney. The kidney has flourished in its new home for almost six years now. Looking back I have no regrets and I still believe it wasn’t mine not to give.

That’s my kind of crazy

“That’s my kind of crazy.” said my hair dresser as I relayed my exploits from the weekend. I have been taking Ballroom Dancing lessons for a couple of months. Saturday, we had a Bedrock Themed Dance. I spent Friday scouring the thrift’s store racks in search of something animal print to no avail. I went to bed Friday night unsure of what I was going to wear. I woke up at 6:00am with a crazy idea a brewing. Why not make a costume? Mind you I don’t sew. We do have a sewing machine leftover from a several week beginning sewing course my daughter took a couple of years ago. I am not even sure how to set the thing up, but it can’t be that hard rights? I mean that’s what Google and mom are for right? So I called my mom on the way to the fabric store. Don’t worry I have blue tooth. I love how she laughs and starts giving me ideas for accessories. She knows me well enough not to point out the craziness of it. As I am driving I decide sewing maybe a little ambitious but using leather to tie the fabric together will be easier and more authentic. Plan in mind, I enter the fabric store in search of supplies. I find the lightest fabric that I believe will hold the ties. I have no clue as to the amount of cloth I need. Fortunately one of the store employees gives me a reasonable estimate based on my size, length I want, and looseness desired. I head home with my purchases. I recruit my daughter to help me as she has more experience than I do. After consulting with my mother we start with cutting off a strip of the fabric to make it more manageable. We start by making a pattern for the neckline. Then move on tying the sides. My biggest needle was not working. Fortunately, one of my daughter’s friends had stopped by and he suggested I use a screw driver to make the holes. I thought it sounded just crazy enough that it might work. The power screw driver worked like a charm. In no time I had the costume done. I used a piece of the leather for a belt and the extra cloth we cut became a shawl and a hair tie. That is definitely my kind of crazy.

Learning to be me one scene at a time

When I was a freshman in high school I signed up for Drama class. Although, I was the toddler waving from the stage during my first ballet performance; in the intervening years I had grown into a shy reserved person. I decided to sign up for the Drama class because my cool older cousin was in the class. It was one of the best decisions I ever made.
As myself I was terrified to speak in front of others. On the stage I had the opportunity to become someone else who was not afraid. This was life changing. I realized over the years that not only could I play other people and feel safe, but I could play better more confident versions of myself. When confronted with a situation which terrified me I asked myself how my ideal self would act in this situation. I would create a character of my ideal self and I would play it. Eventually, I would get to the point where I became the better version of myself. This approach has allowed me to achieve and experience many things that would have been impossible without it. I am so thankful for my drama class and my cool cousin who made me want to sign up.

My Yoga

I breathe in and out, more slowly with each breath. Focusing on my breathing, I steer my mind back when it wonders. The Celtic music both calming and uplifting plays softly in the background. I move through the poses requiring my mind to focus on my movements and my breath. The hunger but a distance hum. Continuing through the poses altered only by the occasional soft warm fur against my leg or under my hand. These bonding moments with my fur family have become a welcome addition to my morning yoga practice. A practice which helps to quiet the hunger long enough to allow for planned consumption. Which in turn leads to a more productive output. This is not a hunger that resides in my stomach but in my mind. You see my mind has a ravenous at times almost insatiable appetite for knowledge. Attempting to consume knowledge at a speed that does not allow one to savor the complexities. The result a flooding of the system causing most of what is consumed to pass right through. By quieting the hunger I am able to be discerning in my choices. Determining the knowledge that will best help me to achieve my goals which are derived from what I believe to be my purpose in this life. Additionally, I am able to retain more of the knowledge and use it to increase output. Output is an action taken towards a goal. The goal being my purpose in life. Thus, my yoga practice is an essential piece in achieving my life purpose.

Frenzied Thoughts

I should be sleeping. It is Saturday and I don’t have anywhere to be until 10:00am, which these days is a blessed respite. Yet, it is 6:00am and I am wide awake. Frenzied thoughts blast rapid fire through my brain leaving me dizzy, even though I am laying down. Fortunately, one of the benefits of aging is self-knowledge. Realizing sleep is an unrealistic expectation at this point, I reluctantly swing my feet over the side of the bed and quietly retrieve my robe from the closet. I make my way to the kitchen shadowed by feline friends who are far more excited about my consciousness than I am. I turn on the coffee, open the blinds, and grab pen and paper. I turn my coffee into the dark, sweet, and creamy concoction; whose warm deliciousness signals the beginning of a brand new day. I sit down, sip the dreamy concoction, and being to sort and organize my frenzied thoughts. I am forcibly slowing the brain processes. I then began transferring these thoughts from my mind to the paper. Thus, releasing the thoughts and halting the rapid fire blasting and dizziness. I take comfort in the fact that I have created a plan of action, which will prevent any further frenzied thoughts on this subject. Now that my brain is calm, the bed beckons but I have already greeted the day and its siren song fills my ears as my next action list dances in my head. So I embrace the day as the promise of an afternoon nap invigorates me.

On Mothers and Daughters……

All Mothers are naturally daughters at one point. A lot has been written about being a mother and with Mother’s day looming quickly, much more will be written. The relationship between a mother and a daughter is filled with ebbs and flows, tender moments and difficult ones, but the underlying bond that ties us together can never be broken. Sometimes that is good and sometimes it isn’t.

I am one of the lucky ones. My mother is kind, caring and compassionate. She taught me wonderful lessons by actions rather than words. I know I wasn’t always a perfect daughter, but she never gave up on me. I love that I can still pick up the phone and call my mother and she will always be glad to hear from me.

I am also blessed with an unbelievable daughter. In many ways she is a carbon copy of my mother. She is also kind, caring and compassionate. She has imparted those same ideals to her daughter as well. The legacy of my mother has been passed to my daughter and my granddaughter both. I will never lose my mother as long as I can see her reflection in the faces of both of them.

I am grateful beyond measure and filled with love for all the generations of powerful women that run through my family.

With love for all the women who came before me and will live long after…..

Deanna Greenway Thoma

The Swing

A piece of wood and some rope hanging from a tree in my yard. These two simple items create a simple swing. Yet, my swing is far from simple. It is a reconnection with my inner child and the boundless hope she possesses. When my feet finally touch the ground again my troubles seem lighter and I feel like I can change the world for the better or at least my little piece of it.

The Promise of Spring

A few days ago, a lovely purple iris bloom appeared in my garden. The iris was a gift from my father’s garden. He shared it with me a few years ago, but this is the first time it has bloomed. I couldn’t help but smile when I found the bloom! It stirred memories of time spent in the garden with my dad and let me know that Spring has arrived here in Central Texas. Our roads are lined with wildflowers such as Bluebonnets and Indian Paintbrush, but the single iris bloom was more significant to me. I felt the stirrings of new beginnings and wondrous memories yet to be made with my children and grandchildren.

In researching the color purple I discovered that it is a combination of blue and red. Blue is calming and red represents energy. How perfect! I also learned that the color purple doesn’t often appear in nature. It is thought to have uplifting nurturing tendencies. What a perfect symbol of a father’s gift to his daughter.

by Deanna Greenway-Thoma