I’ve been squeezing the last drops of juice from January,
the one month each year that sometimes feels like vacation
because our gardening business settles down for a long winter’s nap
and I can throw myself more into projects I’ve been saving for the big quiet
but this year has been cheeky, as the sap is already rising,
and so I’ve been hours in the trees, pruning,
and I’m sore from the hard and cold and a stiff sort of sleepy.
My blogging process looks a lot, in my mind, like gardening and cooking;
I tend what’s growing in my heart, writing down snippets and making bites of art
and then gather the bits into bouquets
or cobble into soup or salsa or pie
to serve up fresh and in season here every week
(a small lyrical café, I imagine:))
but I’m a wintery sort of tired this week up here pruning away
(and I skipped a week already, didn’t I)
so I’m going to serve them straight up, the munchies I’ve been grazing on,
the clippings of what I’ve been loving (like turnip greens and their sweet baby roots).
Feel free to snack on the whoosh and whisper of it all:
~ There’s fierce beauty in spending less than we make.
~Urgency is rarely true, and is always a lie when it’s compulsive.
~ We are – all of us – lovely to God
(don’t let shame hiss at you otherwise)
~ “Hope is a conclusion we stay in
as we hope our way through hopeless circumstances.”
~There is something profoundly and deeply right with each of us.
~it takes me back home to the healer of my heart, whispering in the cold, brave sunshine
how Love walked right into this thumping ache of mine, went tenderly to the room
where I feel broken, and moved in bearing balm and comfort and courage
and “where does it hurt?”
and when the wind outside was howling chaos,
became the greenhouse where my fiercest flowers grow.
~ “…the air a library and the record of every life lived, every sentence spoken,
every word transmitted still reverberating in it.”
-Anthony Doerr’s All the Light We Cannot See
(potent read and a terrible beauty)
I'll soon be down from the trees and back in my heart's kitchen, stirring up something hopeful yummy to serve but didn't want to go silent so long so here is my little offering.
Much love and light and lift to your astonishingly beautiful heart - xoxox
(little drawing to give away a copy of my February issue zine, Ripplesongs;