Today's post is brought to you by the letter V.

Someone suggested the other day that I am a varietist, and I'm maybe not even insulted. By definition, a varietist is a free spirit, a swimmer upstream, a goer against the grain.  It's been said that I march to the beat of my own saxophone and even though the sayer of that is nonsensical because everyone else knows saxophones don't play drums (clarinets do), I am still inclined to agree.

Varietist:  unorthodox person.    

That's it.  Simple. Concise.  Beautifully lacking in hushed tones or pointing fingers.   When I look at that definition in the mirror I see myself.  Why do something the easy way, the way it has been done a million times before, the way everyone else does it, when I can pick it apart and find my way?  I'm sometimes blind to the obvious and I'm frequently clumsy and more often than not I take the long way around but so what if I get to Texas via Alabama to Maine and back again?  The birch trees in New Hampshire alone made that trip totally worth it.

The side streets and back roads can teach some important life lessons.....slow down, feel the air in your lungs, see God's beauty around you, and next time maybe remember to check the pressure in the spare tire before setting off on one of your little adventures.

Life really is about the journey.  About the very of it.  And the vary of it.  And the vastness of its possibilities.

The scenic route is a great map to the true self~ especially if all roads eventually lead to the ability to get beyond it. 

Love when love is not deserved.

Forgive when forgiveness is needed.

Have faith when hope is fleeting~

and know that even in times of loss

there is victory.

~~