oh, august

yes. yes. and yes.


sigh..

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a tale of slow progress

this is the story of a garden...well, no, not a garden- my garden. yes. (did you hear the hint of pride in that statement?)

i don't have much time to write, so think of this like one of those picture books with no words. you see what's happening...feel free to invent the dialogue yourself.

this last one isn't my plot, it's the view i have from the gardens- never before have i seen a park so well used. i bring an ipod with me to listen to music while i plant, but i never actually listen to it. i listen to the basketball and the voices on the pavement, the kids squealing in the water spray park, the eclectic music that blares from the shelter speakers every now and then, and sometimes chat with my plot neighbors or my kid visitors. 


as you can see, it's a tale of slow progress. i am absolutely delighted to see the plot that was so thick with weeds (that i didn't even realize it was a plot at all!)...is now home to hibernating (for now) seeds, and a select few veggies. (and watermelon- i guess that's not a veggie.)

it's all an experiment, as my many garden mentors have reminded me, time and time again. go with it. delight in everything that pops up and produces even a bud. so, here's to easy delight.

i'll report back soon with the progress.

conclusion

i have come to the conclusion:

i must be able to continue to hope.

i must be able to continue to see strength.




there should always be more hope...and there is always strength. somewhere.

too late

i just shouldn't have checked my work email tonight. 

sometimes...sometimes it just really feels like it's too late. and no, tonight, i am not referring to the actual time on the clock.

reading this, and finding a bit of peace:

life's not a battle

life's not a battle,

but adventure,

not a test,

but an

experiment

we undertake

with curiosity

because

we want

to know

how something

works.

'tis knowing this

as simple fact

makes all

the difference.

~judy brown

yes. i want to know how something works. lots of somethings.

sanctuary

it is a sanctuary out there, people. a sanctuary. the frogs. the birds. the tiny insects. the heat lightning. the cracks of thunder. the whooshing of water as it crosses the dam. the thick smell of all of things spring- soil, grass, wildflowers, herbs, things new and old, awakening. and the trees- the circle of trees. with a stump just my size. thank God for that. truly.

the light drops of rain on my walk back. the huge, dark, ominous- yet, somehow comforting, sky. my feet planted firmly on the ground. each step. those little drops. little bursts of cleansing.

oh, and lilacs. thank God for those, too.

then the real cleanse comes as i step inside. just as i step inside. down comes the rain. down, down. the thunder cracks a hole in the sky. but it tells me it's okay. somehow this world is infinite and confined at the same time. somehow things are broken and whole at the same time.

somehow his spirit is here. and someday, i think she will smile again. i plant my feet firmly on the ground. for her.

someday i'll learn

it is 11:33 P.M.

no yoga for anna tomorrow at 7 A.M. it pains me to say that, but i...just...can't. my eyes hurt. they have started to do this strange pulsing thing. and i start to feel like i am losing focus. in more ways than one. too many days on end of not enough sleep. by a long shot. i've only been going to yoga and nia for a little over a week now, and yes, i'm already in love again. i hate to not go, but i just can't.

i need to remember- these are the ways i love myself. forgiveness for an extra 60 minutes of sleep for that tired body that had previously determined to get up. forgiveness for a discouragingly stubborn late bed time. forgiveness for no yoga one day. (i will not automatically return to the floppy puddle i was during my long hiatus from any sort of exercise, with the exception of the 6 block walk from the bus stop to work. i will not.) lots, and lots, and lots of forgiveness.

the ponds

every year

the lilies

are so perfect

i can hardly believe

their lapped light crowding

the black,

mid-summer ponds.

nobody could count all of them-

the muskrats swimming

among the pads and the grasses

can reach out

their muscular arms and touch

only so many, they are that

rife and wild.

but what in this world

is perfect?

i bend closer and see

how this one is clearly lopsided-

and that one wears an orange blight-

and this one is a glossy cheek

half nibbled away-

and that one is a lumped purse

full of its own

unstoppable decay.

still, what i want in my life

is to be willing to be dazzled-

to cast aside the weight of facts

and maybe even

to float a little above this difficult world.

i want to believe i am looking

into the white fire of a great mystery.

i want to believe that the imperfections are nothing-

that the light is everything- that it is more than the sun

of each flawed blossom rising and fading. and i do.

mary oliver

.........................

this morning i need some words like these. maybe i needed a little more time to work out the difficult dreams that have been crowding my sleep. maybe my body was too sore for nia this morning. maybe it's the thought of returning to work after almost a week gone.

but my dreams are teaching me, if i let them. and nia is bringing me into my body- pumping it with blood and love and spirit. and my work, well, my work is...is. is my excuse for the feelings i don't want to feel. not that it doesn't stretch those and sometimes make them more painful than they were, but when i am being truthful with myself, i recognize that they are coming from me. me.

may i be safe and protected.

may i be peaceful and joyful.

may i live with kindness and ease.

may i be safe and protected.

may i be peaceful and joyful.

may i live with kindness and ease.

loving kindness meditation. yes, i'll take some of that this morning, too.

"a bird doesn't sing because it has an answer, it sings because it has a song." -maya angelou

i have no answers. no. certainly none of those. but my gosh, i have a song. yes.

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