Cycles
Winter was quite the disappointment this year. I think I wore a heavier jacket 3 times. My scarf was more for decoration. My umbrella, not needed. And already things are starting to move on. The light is now in my East-facing windows at the same time I'm having coffee like some neighbor that came over when I wasn't yet awake - "Hello. Who are you? Oh yeah....so soon? I mean, come in!" From Christmas, to Lent, to Easter - the death and rebirth of the light all taking place in my living room.
In the spirit of affinity, I'm cycling through my own experience of this. The dying of the light. Giving up, drying up, letting go of a dead leaf to the wind. To have, at one point, been so intently involved with an idea of something and to have it end so harshly was identity-shaking. "If not this, then what? Then who? Then how?"
A year ago, another cycle, the positive upswing-of-it-all. All stress was eustress. I knew then, the following 12 months would be a marathon of sorts. I practiced! My hikes were my offering. Slow, steady. I'd need the energy. Pace myself. In the sun. And, I dd. And now I'm tired enough to say to myself, "It's time to head home."
I bought live herbs a few weeks ago and replanted them in a clay pot left over from when the neighbor moved out. These herbs were grown a few miles away by people who are sometimes left out, thrown out, or given out. And through their hands life began again. And now it's on my balcony. Thyme. Rosemary. Mint. A trifecta of little sister-voices chanting - "live live live live live live live..."
In the spirit of affinity, I'm cycling through my own experience of this. The dying of the light. Giving up, drying up, letting go of a dead leaf to the wind. To have, at one point, been so intently involved with an idea of something and to have it end so harshly was identity-shaking. "If not this, then what? Then who? Then how?"
A year ago, another cycle, the positive upswing-of-it-all. All stress was eustress. I knew then, the following 12 months would be a marathon of sorts. I practiced! My hikes were my offering. Slow, steady. I'd need the energy. Pace myself. In the sun. And, I dd. And now I'm tired enough to say to myself, "It's time to head home."
I bought live herbs a few weeks ago and replanted them in a clay pot left over from when the neighbor moved out. These herbs were grown a few miles away by people who are sometimes left out, thrown out, or given out. And through their hands life began again. And now it's on my balcony. Thyme. Rosemary. Mint. A trifecta of little sister-voices chanting - "live live live live live live live..."