This One Wild and Precious Life

 

I finally got around to adding one of my most favorite lines of poetry (from Mary Oliver's The Summer Day) to canvas and know that this will be one of many works I add for inspiration in my home.  I love poetry and quotes and special strings of words that arouse my spirit and find that all too often I keep them hidden in the pages of my journal where there are not reflected upon as often as I would like.  Now I can take my favorite ones and rotate them and even give them away as they feel called to be with someone else that needs them.

This morning after a long walk with Miss Butters I sat down with a cup of heavily creamed but still quite strong coffee and Susannah Conways workbook,UNRAVELLING THE YEAR AHEAD 2013 (which also spends time reflecting upon the current year).  Please check out this link for yourself and make time for this wonderful exercise...I promise you will find all kinds of secrets within your soul just waiting to be written upon the page:   http://www.susannahconway.com/2012/12/2013-workbook/

I needed this reflection after the past 3 weeks of packing and moving and travelling back and forth between homes.  A new family has moved into our old home and I have fingers crossed that in the new year this will be their new home, full of their new dreams.  It is another chapter in my life, and a huge one in my married life, that is now over.  Alan built the home for us right after we were married and we had many dreams of the life that would be lived there, some of which came to be and some that are still to be realized and written. 

Writing about the year and gently reflecting upon it helped me to seek closure and celebration for this beautiful and messy life. This afternoon feels lighter somehow and there is the taste of possibility and a vision of a new path forming in my mind for our future.  I dream of a bungalow near the sea with an herb garden and a vegetable garden in lieu of a lawn.  There is an idea of community involvement and community gardens and paintings hung in cafes. There are renewed dreams of a child and morning walks and evening lullaby's.  There is a sense of hope that I will find the truest sense of love and belonging within myself and there is a vision of a book being written on the same table shared with paints and bobbles of other creations. 

I wish you the warmest of holidays snuggled up with your favorite loves and the bright possibility of an abundantly wild and precious New Year.  xoxo

Day Five: Favorite Things-Just Being

I fretted a bit about missing a post after making the commitment to have 14 so here is my day late post.  The reason I missed the post is because I was just living, being, doing.....the normal stuff.  Nothing special in some ways, but wonderful in others.

The day started with a cold Alan had developed taking a turn for the worse and him needing a little extra attention.  So I made sure he was comfortable and had everything he needed and figured I would be able to get to the post later in the afternoon since it was my day off from running.  Then Alan mentioned he thought we would head back to our other house early since he was sick and working from home and maybe we would leave that night, so I started packing. 

Just as I had finished packing and sat down at the computer the phone rang and it was my brother on the other end saying his car had over-heated.  He wasn't sure if it would require a simple fix or a major fix but wondered if I would be around.  So I began shifting gears and then wondered what we would have for dinner because feeding people is something I do and since we were planning to head home that evening I had not made plans for dinner. 

And I went and picked-up my brother.
And he did spend the night.
And I thawed out 2 jars of frozen chicken and vegetable soup I had just made a couple of weeks ago.
And we had a wonderful dinner, the three of us and Miss Butters.
And we laughed and discussed the crazy elections and the debate from the night before.
And my brother worked a little bit.
And I read a little bit of a new book.
And Alan read the news online.
And we made plans for the next day and went to bed full of love. 

Stellar Debris

Bubbles, Curacao 2009

My name is Copper Penny,
child of turquoise waters and
indigo skies.

An algebraic formula of
harmonious delight.
Star dust fallen to the ocean;
Iron, calcium, and carbon
swirled in salty luminosity.

Alive and calm,
enveloped in a familial embrace,
the gurgle and echo of my own breath
a meditation sparking primordial memory.

A Public Service Announcement of Sorts

Graffiti Painting- Fifth Street Underpass

This image stopped me in my tracks the other day as I walking along the sidewalk.  It gave me pause and inspiration. 

“Find the love you seek, by first finding the love within yourself. Learn to rest in that place within you that is your true home.”
- Sri Sri Ravi Shankar

Sometimes...

Sometimes we are carried and
sometimes we carry.
Other times we float along hand in hand.

Sometimes a simple song from before
is sung in a new voice and
old words become new.

Sometimes old words reminds us
how wonderful life is.
How wonderful that you're in the world.

making everything new.

A Thrill to Rest My Cheek To

The first time I heard Etta James sing At Last I was struck mute and motionless except for a single tear that dropped down my cheek.  I was a teenager shopping in a local store with my Mother.  The store was narrow with high ceiling fans and hardwood floors and somehow these surroundings combined with her velvety voice made it feel all the more romantic to me.  I told my Mother then that if I ever got married, that I would dance to that song at my wedding. 

Nine years ago today my husband and I danced to that song.  I remember that day like a beautiful dream that came true.  The memory day strikes me with tears and gigantic smiles alike.  That day...it was perfect....and I continue to pinch myself even now that I was lucky enough to marry my friend and sweet love....the one that captured my heart when we were children riding bikes and climbing trees...the one that got away but would not let my heart go....yes that one.

Star Dust

We sat in the kitchen in early February

with the door open to an unusually warm day and

 welcomed the outdoor noises in.

You replaced switch plates and I read in the paper.

We talked about your daughter and about our family.

We talked about the newly laid tiles.

And then I came across a letter

 in the Parade magazine that asked

If many stars are so far away from earth

 that their light takes millions of years to reach us,

how do we know they  exist?

Marilyn responded,

We don’t.

When we look at the stars

 we are viewing the past.

This struck me

and I felt melodic and chromatic.

Like we, you and I, were floating in a soap bubble,

spinning through space and time.

That this moment we were having in the kitchen

 had been played out before

 and would be played out again.

I felt the utter beauty and

substance to this moment that I

rarely pay attention to

and I said to you,

Well what if all of this is

 really in the past and

you and I don’t even exist anymore,

and this moment right now is not real?

And you said somewhere in this vast universe

we are in the past.

That by the time that part of the universe

saw or heard this conversation

we would be gone.

And I said that as fast

As the speed of light is,

 it is still too slow.

But what I really meant to say

was that all of this

is spinning too quickly.

Please let me hold this

moment against my breast. 

Let me wrap my arms around it and

let me press my lips to its ear

And whisper.

Stay.