Springtime and sprawling; the soup and the swirl ….

I started writing down a series right in the middle of Springtime,
the way you start something when you think you see the road ahead
because you’ve seen so many tomorrows before.
Then everything changes,
and it has, my world swift sprawling
and I’m in the swirl,  choosing to go loose in the waves
instead of digging in firm to my agenda and fighting the current.

I remember when my daughter was a river rat,  guiding whitewater tours
downriver and through the rapids.
She told me often stories of people dumped into the soup and having to be coached
to keep their feet drawn up high,  face the oncoming waves,
and just bob on down the river like a hat tossed overboard.
Struggling to plant your feet creates danger of injury and even drowning.
Go with the flow until you see a safe out,  she said.
I’ve remembered that a time or two.

So here I am,  wide-eyed and whooshing along in the might of waters
that I don’t need to control,  just to discover;
letting myself be shaken like a new leaf in a fierce wind,
open to the goodness in the going upended,
shaken loose from things been squeezing me
until all that remains is love.

To be a friend to myself in this place where I’m a little lost and gimpy,
to stop apologizing with my breath,
to tell the truth with my life
even when circumstances seem to scream that I should cover over the ugly,
this is rest.

I can totally dance with this tension.

So I’m gonna give myself a pass on that series until life goes Summertime gentle again.
Just pick you flowers and sing you easy songs:)
Because you’re worth showing up to
and it’s joy to be here
even when I haven’t much to serve.

“You will find peace of mind
If you look way down in your heart and soul
don’t hesitate ’cause the world seems cold
stay young at heart ’cause you’re never,  never,  never
old at heart.”
( Earth,  Wind,  and Fire)

I’ve had a story churning in my heart.
I went writing,  taking small bites (each post) to discover what my heart wanted to see
and learn and say.  Seems since I took off on that journey a few months back
that my sea got wild with big waves

that capsized my little boat until I’ve been sputtering on a few thin boards and adrift.
Maybe Springtime wasn’t the best time to set sail:)
So I’m drying off on shore but have my eyes to the horizon,  watching and listening.
I’m curious still about fundamentalism and how it played out in my own story.
I hope by going there that
maybe I’ll learn better how to live true and real and love in the heaving of our often troubled times.
Maybe I’ll find something to share that will heal someone the way Love seems to be healing me.
I’ll come back,  I will,  with a better boat:)
Thanks for your smiles.

20 Comments

  1. Elephants Child on April 24, 2017 at 6:25 pm

    Your boat is plenty big enough. As you are big enough. And braver and more resilient than you know.
    The all of you is wonderful, including the broken, spotty bits we all have and all hide.
    Hugs.

    • jennifer on April 28, 2017 at 6:26 pm

      Thanks for your kind, encouraging words.
      Balm, those:)
      I appreciate,
      Jennifer

  2. Julia on April 24, 2017 at 6:32 pm

    Hi Jennifer, I hope you come back in a pontoon boat that can ride the rough seas.
    It always feel right to read and ponder on your thoughts and they really are like a tapestry of your life and sometimes mine too. Have a great spring and summer too.
    Warm hugs, Julia

    • jennifer on April 28, 2017 at 6:25 pm

      A pontoon boat sounds just about right:)
      Thanks, Julia, and much love.
      And I’m not going anywhere. Just postponing the series until
      it feels right.
      Warm hugs,
      Jennifer

  3. ladyfi on April 24, 2017 at 11:08 pm

    That white water can be fairly scary, but it seems as if you’re dealing with it gracefully. And thank you for your lovely photos!

    • jennifer on April 28, 2017 at 6:46 am

      Such a joy to get to share, Fi.
      Thanks for your presence here:)
      -Jennifer

  4. jeanie on April 25, 2017 at 7:54 am

    It’s a weird journey, isn’t it, this life of ours. Just when we think we have a handle on things, something — good, bad or indifferent — pulls the rug out and we have to rethink, regroup, start again or stop for awhile. You are doing exactly what you need to do. Scary or bumpy or smooth — you will ride with it. And you will know you are surrounded by people who love you and are there for you.

    • jennifer on April 28, 2017 at 6:45 am

      Yes, rug-pulling is life’s specialty:)
      Riding the waves is the adventure. So glad for wild waters
      and you:)
      -Jennifer

  5. Robin aka on April 25, 2017 at 10:19 am

    Keep riding the waves…the calm ones, the big scary ones…big hugs coming your way.

    • jennifer on April 28, 2017 at 6:44 am

      Riding and riding out the in between:)
      Thanks, Robin – I appreciate you so:)
      Hugs back,
      Jennifer

  6. Kathy on April 25, 2017 at 7:35 pm

    Sending love and encouragement as you learn, like me I guess, to bob in the waves. Peace…

    • jennifer on April 28, 2017 at 5:52 am

      Bob and sputter and relax and roll over and look up at the big blue and bob and sputter some more:)
      It’s such a paradox, isn’t it. I’m learning to embrace the whole wonder and wobble of it all,
      and you are, too, friend. I love those words: we’re not here to be perfect, but to be real.
      I can’t remember who said them. But good ones, yes:)
      Big peace,
      Jennifer

  7. Susan on April 25, 2017 at 8:57 pm

    I always learn so much from you and wish I could be as mighty and brave and eloquent and pure of heart. And now your girl has shared words that will remain very important to me … ” go with the flow until you see a safe out” Thank her for me and please come pick me up in your magic boat whenever you’re ready.
    xoxo

    • jennifer on April 28, 2017 at 5:50 am

      You:) Thanks for your generous words and kind encouragement.
      Hannah is river-running in a totally different way these days and facing her own giant waves;
      I’ll tell her how much her words meant to you. She’ll smile:)
      I love running the rapids with you – thanks for being such a beautiful friend:)
      -Jennifer

  8. Sharon Leaf on April 28, 2017 at 7:57 am

    I’m sitting here at the beach, unable to connect with civilization so I’ll write you when I return.

    • jennifer on April 28, 2017 at 6:24 pm

      Happy beaching:)
      -Jennifer

  9. Barbara Shallue on April 29, 2017 at 12:40 am

    You need to tell your story as it comes, and we’ll be here to listen. Please don’t feel any pressure or judgement from here! Peace and love and blessings to you for your openness and longing to share to help others. xoxoxo

    • jennifer on April 30, 2017 at 3:06 pm

      Peace and love and blessings right back to you, friend:)
      In a big way,
      Jennifer

  10. Catherine on April 29, 2017 at 3:53 am

    O you beauty you!!!! Me too,me too. But you have so many words for all of it!! River rat, gimp, swirl!! Pure joy in the pain xxxx

    • jennifer on April 30, 2017 at 3:05 pm

      Pure joy in the pain:) Exactly.
      Holding paradox is sanity and a shiny beauty, for sure.
      Peace:) Thanks for your delightful words:)
      -Jennifer

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