Here I am, winter again, my birth month
Waiting for snow, seeking employment
Missing my people, wishing for more time to myself
First day back to school; the children are not gone long enough for me to attend to all that needs tending when they aren’t at home, the children are away from home for far too long for my heart.
Last week, I emerged from the quiet, winter desert in full bloom and dove headlong into the enchanted forest: a new year, a new constellation of women and children, the same yurt and trails to get there by.
We sweetly sat and fed one another, lay and read and napped all along our full day there while the wind kicked up and poured over the canvas roof. We, coastal children, raising mountain children, thought of ocean waves, remembered friends gone back to other native lands, probed each other’s narratives and that of the larger world, knit and sewed, stepped outside to ski, to draw, to chop wood, to make water.
It was a day that illuminated our need for deep rest, the pause of mid winter, and seemed to highlight the world’s need for more of the same.
Today, after a brief whirlwind of household tending in the calm of this first day home alone, I said aloud “good job, honey”, to myself, and giggled all the way down the hall.