And still the moving things….

I’ve been moving through some changes and it’s been a gnarly sort of stretch
but also beautiful and grow-y.
Always the paradox – the God-breath and the grit.
So, still from the soup, I want to share some of the stuff that’s been moving me:

~  all of the extra oxygen in my lungs (!)
I took the shot.  The one I’ve shied away from for several years because too many risks.
But then the risk of un-living my life seemed to loom larger so I dove in
and did the risky deed the doctors recommended
and I can breathe all the way down
to the bottom of my lungs.
This feels crazy big and I’m sometimes giddy with air.

~ the way the early evening quiets the heat
the dusk gentles the sun,
and how the river sings my dry places soft again.

~  the courage that’s somehow finding me to be transparent in shamestorms,
to stand sometimes unmasked until my fear gets tired of fearing
and love gets to find me like that
and heal some of my unloved places.
The whole getting better at not hiding thing.

~ for the fields of yellow where horses graze with the foal
who trots along playful like a dolphin born into a buttercup sea.

~ for the mishmash of music making my summering sing,
including Willy Nelson Sings Gershwin,
and Lauren Daigle’s Look Up Child.

~ for how I’m learning to live in a rest that can weary what wants to drive me,
can just demoralize it because the joy I keep tapping won’t lose it’s fizz.
that I can cry angry,  heart-broken tears and still trust the Love that’s holding me
and plant myself peaceful in this place.
How this is stronger than the certainty I crave.

~ for the high places and skies that ride these ridges
where I can listen to the wind words.

~ the way life is giving me soft moments with my mother
that I didn’t know I needed until I find the girl of me running hard to plant her flowers
and bring her beauty and make her eggs wet and find the words
that have fluttered far from reach before this tender time when we’re both bent low
so that maybe we can see each other’s faces true.

~ the compassion of friends who see my gimpy places and smile the same smiles
that warm me when I’m strong.

~ the first ripe veggies of Summer,  elderberry syrup in my tea,
and all the brave moves that let us be fresh berries splashed with cream
and served up sweet instead of growing mold in the back of the fridge.

“You are not too old,
and it is not too late
to dive into your increasing depths
where life calmly gives out
it’s own secret.”
– Rilke

Thanks for your patience with my heavy Springtime ways.
It’s coming on Summertime and the living is easier
now that the planting is mostly done.

Rocks, feathers and the music of letting go….

I needed a rest from the intensity of the storytelling brewing inside,
needed to let it marinate in spirit
and go outside instead to watch the leaves drift down
on the wind of a season shifting.

Needed to give my old ways some space to stretch again with the new of a job,
the bustle of some ending,  and a hurricane of change.
To give myself again to the river running through
and pour epsom salts in steaming tub
and let the hot waters tug the hurting from my bones
while I stir and stir the singing to my soul.

To crumple fresh into the everloving arms of Life-Giver.

I’ll be back again soon with more stories
but need right now to stoke the fires of gratitude
until they climb high and burn strong against the early night.
To feed my joy generous with hefty portions of light
until my heart is thumping music again.
To do the sacred work of letting go.

Sometimes like releasing a feather to breeze,
sometimes like coughing up rocks,
the always freeing
and wildly surprising
badassery of
l e t t i n g
g o.

“People may call what happens at midlife a ‘crisis’ but it’s not.
It’s an unraveling – a time when you feel a desperate pull to live the life you want to live,
not the one you’re ‘supposed’ to live.
The unraveling is the time when you’re challenged by the universe
to let go
of who you think you are supposed to be
and to embrace who you are.”
– Brene’ Brown