The Here, The Now or I want a typewriter, again. (Obviously)

The colors here, right now are nothing short of glorious in their contrasting ease with one another. Blues and golds and oranges and earth tones that I dare not describe (leastways not more than this).

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So much to say, how to jump right in? Sleep deprived as I am, nothing’s flowing quite like yesterday when I hightailed it up to Atalaya ridge and jogged my way back down, sun lowering into it’s deep southwestern pocket and golden light baffling me with the depth of illuminated beauty all around.

In my daily life, I am scribbling notes of composition and attending to time signature. Measuring out the beats, rhythm and lyrics for self care, child care, home care, relationship care, community care, earth care: how often does each act need to be touched upon- to feel like it’s all flowing as it should. To keep it up for me, so that I can keep it up for them.

It is hard to find the time for this page, words and notebook pages have been piling up around me like the dropped deciduous leaves that I am so happy to chance upon.

Layers of me have been peeling back, remembered versions of self arising and I welcome them, I am calling myself home. The toddler boy and I are now a few weeks beyond our nursing dyad and while my muscles and bones are in high, sometimes incessant, demand for lifting him up, there is a subtle re-containment of my life force within my own skin. And so, looking back at the self that lived and loved before these seven blessed years of marriage and childrearing, I am not without a touch of “damn, girl… now what?”

Our same old, same old questions are circling around inside me, digging ever deeper roots in my heart’s space and my wearied mind. Answers flutter up on bubbles of effervescence and float on down around my feet.

My inner slam poet has been showing herself, seeking audience-intense desire to be heard, to create lasting change, to manifest-what next and what will I do when I grow up:

It is not a new refrain, it is a backbeat to this Autumn.

Luminosity is a word reverberating inside my head these days, Autumn’s Golden Light (not incidentally my halloween concept costume)- and throughout moments of simple, pure grace such as light shining through a leaf, my boys giggling together, a chance to breathe and stretch when my hands are set free-these moments feel hard won and I give myself pause to rest in them: delighting in joyful, luminous space, breathing it in, knowing it is sure to pass by if my heart should turn away.

Heart Medicine, pearls I am collecting for the golden thread days.

Do you want to share a moment of grace that caught you and held you? I would love to hear all about it.

 

 

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2 thoughts on “The Here, The Now or I want a typewriter, again. (Obviously)

  1. Well, this is a grace filled moment, with such beautiful writing before me. Autumn’s Golden Light. Somehow I knew that without knowing that. My grace–not being able to take my eyes off my daughters at dinner tonight. Candlelight flickering, everyone saying their favorite part of Christmas (my survival strategy is to uncover what is most essential, and do nothing extra), and their eyes so big, their words so…them, their faces so rapidly transforming, and so ephemeral, so lovely.

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