This Ground, This Breath

I haven't opened this blog for a long time, but tonight I felt a stirring to share something I wrote last month. It's deeply personal and won't be understood by those who don't know me--like for real know me--but that's not the point. Maybe there is something here that will speak to you. If not, maybe just the revealing of something on my heart will give you the permission you didn't know you needed to shed some of the burden you didn't realize you were carrying. This is a piece of my 2020.  I feel the warm June breeze on my face  as I pedal along the empty street past people rocking and grasses swaying past a woman sweeping, a truck turning past squirrels darting, including one with half a tail, down the hill to a pond just beyond the part of the street that circles a grassy knoll. I follow the circle around and around spying geese in fellowship smelling blossoms of what-I’m not sure wondering about these...

This morning I feel grateful. Grateful for the arts organization staffer who took time to be ever so thoughtful in her response to my email inquiry. Grateful for friends who are vulnerable with me and allow me to be the same. Grateful for lawmakers who truly care about people and our earth. Grateful for a husband who gets it done and still takes the time to reach out for my hand. Grateful for a kid who is independent and flexible and wows me often, while being a typical kid, too. Grateful for sisters and sisters-in-law who bear witness. Grateful for parents who are showing they can stretch themselves in retirement and continue to grow. Grateful for a kid who stretches me daily and is teaching me how to be more fully present. Grateful for a new spiritual home that is already more than I ever imagined one could be. Grateful for women I encounter regularly who are courageous, strong, funny and wicked smart. Grateful for the freedom to sit here at my computer and wri...

Tonight a ghost named Grief visited. She came after a day of too many adulting stressors and jumbled connections. A day of intense rain and darkness and grouchiness. She arrived just when I thought the day was through, unannounced and unexpected. And I welcomed her in. "It's been too long," I said. I poured myself another cup of mint tea and sat with her on the porch in my mind. No talking, just sitting and knowing. Just being together, Grief and me. As visits go, especially in these hectic middle years of child-rearing, this one passed too quickly, but I'm grateful she came. I'll see her again.

Sometimes you rage against life's blows. And sometimes, in spite of it all, you're in the flow--no resisting, no grasping. It's as if life simply opens the door and ushers you through to the next place. The crowds and the long lines and the noise are gone, and you know you are exactly where you need to be. It still may not compute in your brain--you still may not know HOW it's all going to work out. But this place feels easy, just right, and you're so very glad to be here. Savor this moment. Feel your heart expand. Love. Be. Be love. Happy birthday, my dear G!