balance

“I love to move like a mouse inside this puzzle for the body, balancing the wish to be lost
with the need to be found.”

― Billy Collins, Questions About Angels

Each spring I clear out the bishops weed. I pull it up by handfuls, dumping it into the yard waste to be hauled away.
Each spring it comes back.

I tuck stems into the first cut flower arrangements, its daintiness bringing a sense of old fashioned flare to the vase.

this hour

“How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour and with that one, is what we are doing.”

― Annie Dillard

I make a mess of things, as my technology skills are challenged. I am tempted to delete the whole thing. But, I stop and regroup, walk away and let things settle a bit. I wake this morning still unsure as to what to do. And then I think to ask myself why? Why would I walk away from something that I enjoy so much. Something that makes me feel alive. After all the hours tick away no matter what I am up to so I might as well fill a few of them with what makes me feel alive.

book sharing

 

If you haven’t read The Berry Pickers, by Amanda Peters, you should go right now and find a copy.

“I don’t have time for regret, or the emotional strength it requires. I see the world unfolding as it is meant to. Sometimes I have trouble finding meaning in the things that happen to me, but I assume that the universe knows what it’s doing.”

― Amanda Peters, The Berry Pickers

connection

“Caring passionately about something isn't against nature, and it isn't against human nature. It's what we're here to do.”

Annie Dillard

I want nothing more than to be at grateful. To allow all the doubts that follow me to resolve or at least relocate themselves far out of my reach.

I long for connection, truly any type at all. To be seen, heard and valued. I am not talking here about love, for I am loved, this I don’t doubt. No, what I yearn for is for someone, or maybe something to wholeheartedly walk alongside of me.

I find the world confusing, too noisy, too rambunctious, and way too impersonal. I long for the curiosity of my youth where there was hope, possibilities, and plenty of Ideas. Along with an awareness that rose up through my own consciousness, bringing with it a place for daydreams to morph and maybe become true.

I walk through most days now on repeat. Performing the small tasks I have done for years, tasks done now without much sense of accomplishment or thought. I wake often with a need to find my place in a world that I am no longer familiar with. I feel lost. I worry, I shut down, I cry.

At some point during the day I pick up my camera and head out into my tiny world. Sometimes outside to the garden, but also inside, within the walls of our home. I roam until something catches my eye and I feel that familiar spark ignite within me. I study the scene until I have committed to memory what it is I see and feel, and only then, do I lift the viewfinder to my eye and shoot. I walk away with sense of connection to that girl of my youth, as I feel hope and calm wash over me, bringing with it a bit of peace.