what might be beautiful
And then I got up. This isn’t a tale of how it all turned around. Rather it is a story of what it is, what might be beautiful. It is the narration of the birds outside, brown bodies, black heads, small light beaks, maybe yellow, looking for food on the winter ground.
It is the sage that looks like an unruly beard, that was transplanted, that has fallen over, that is ugly and persistent.
It is threads of conversations from Germany, from Santa Cruz, from Portland, spanning subjects of garlic, libraries, how to be kind with time passing.
It is the long stretch of the clouds and the tides and the grey and the light, and the lap, lap, lap of the fog cresting at the morning beach.
It is the performance of exiting of the house,the jackets, the yelling, the drawings, the last-minute need to poop that somehow gets smeared down a bathroom wall up a dress, on the hands. The necessary new outfit, hand washing, re-jacketing.
It is. It is winter.
And my cadence feels like dropping a bowling ball picking it up and then dropping it again.
And this morning I remembered how reassuring the garlic is. The towhees. The fog. I remember that long stretches of color matter.
Class releases are on hold for a while as other projects come to life! Get in touch if you’d like individual support on a project, with editing, or copywriting!
DATE CHANGE: For sometime to sit together and explore, come to a short talk and meditation we’ll do together. Being and Breathing happens February 7th, 5-6 pm Pacific Time. It is really wonderful to practice together and I look forward to seeing some of you there.