Crunch goes my every other step, cereals under foot. My zen taskmaster has been at it again, strewing crunchy carbohydrates about while I am hovering three feet overhead in a taller human’s atmosphere.
I have been in a writing rut, and not of the sexy-time sort. I intend to write my way out of it one word at a time. With the coming of December, I declared that I would strive to move at the pace of my soul this month and what I am noticing is that my soul is very sloth-like these days. She doesn’t much want to craft, to bake, make holiday cards-fine, let it go, but she barely wants to pick up the house or give herself five minutes on the yoga mat, let alone rearrange things to feel more harmonious. (Actually, she wants to be out climbing mountains and sitting zazen at the tops.)
Part of my reluctance is fear that what will come out on the page is a take down of toddlers and stay at home motherhood, I fear repeating what has been said so many times before on the internet and showing myself as one with first world problems. And yet, my lived experience these days is one of imbalance and exasperation a lot of the day. And then, having worked so hard to arrive at nap time, bed time, space for solitude, space for connection, space for self care, I find myself a whirl with choices and oft times repeating the same simplistic solutions: have some tea and read some blogs, have some wine and read some stories.
As a January baby, perhaps it does make perfect sense that I would be extremely interested in hibernating at this time of year, putting on some more fat and floating along…actually that describes many of the aspects that I bring to my birthday celebrations.
I love living in this sunny upland desert and how if I am patient with the day (a fine practice with constant grunts and squeals following me around, demanding inappropriate objects) it eventually reveals itself to be made just for this: sitting outside in the sunniest spot I can find by my wide open door and typing it out.
I have just taken up the book Homeward Bound and already I want a book club around it or maybe to take up a task force with the author and some of you lovely friends.
This book describes well the moment of motherhood I, and many friends, are in. I want to hand it to my mom and say read this, it explains so much. I refer back now to one of my original questions provoking this nearly yearlong inquiry: as a daughter of the second wave feminist movement, was this lifestyle I am living the endgame? I really want to do more, grow more, put more of myself out into the world and I am sitting hear boiling bones and scooping marrow, trying to decide how serious I am about realigning the outsides of our life with our inside values.
A dream I hold is buying up some lovely, rugged land along a creek and building a home from my own design and a schoolhouse with yoga studio alongside. We could school our children, grow animals and vegetables, recruit friends to come live alongside, work alongside, make music and merry and dinner alongside. It’s my chronic hippie daydream, start a commune and do it well.
A Joel Salatin quote popped up in front of me today: “Anything worth doing well is worth doing poorly at first.” Exacto.
What else? The internet’s been attracting my gaze as it is won to do, here are a few threads keeping me going with gentle touchstones as we plod, skip and jump to the new year: From Hectic to Harmonious, I am appreciating the simple reminders there and Walking Advent gives me a bit more to pay attention to at the physical level each day.
What are you holding sacred this holy season and how are you manifesting your heart’s truth?