stronger in the showing up….

I keep showing up,
carving out the space and time
to rest my eyes on the sky
while the sun shimmers low on the horizon,
suspended like a breath,
then exhales into the night,


keep being wowed by how quickly it happens,
how easy to  slip right by
if I just did this one more thing quick first;
like a whisper in a crowded room
I could miss  it in the scurry
because life is sweeping past
and if you don’t kneel down and put your hand into the river
you may not recognize.


And I have sometimes drawn back from the living
because I feel so much,
sometimes feel it all too much,
and the pain can make me flinch and close down and curl up tight inside
for just a little while
and as  I watch all these ordinary little whiles fill up
with so much that I wouldn’t want to miss,
bits I’ve mostly missed my whole life long,
it shakes me awake to the choices I hold


and as each evening I walk back to my car
rubbing the  sunspots from my eyes so I can drive home,
I feel stronger in the showing up,
as if all of this light is infusing my choosing
as these days, they quickly go by.


“You can change or stay the same.
There are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or worst of it. I hope you make the best of it.  I hope you see things that startle you.  I hope you feel things you’ve never felt before.
I hope you meet people with a different point of view.  I hope you live a life you’re proud of.  If you find that you’re not,  I hope you have the courage to start all over again.”
-Eric Roth,
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button screenplay

truth in the tremble….


There’s been a cold wind blowing,
a shivery ache
that gnaws through some hope
and teases  my heart why don’t you close up
tight like a fist and numb that pain down.

But I don’t want to miss even love wrapped in sorrow
in this messy business of living
and walk around like a woman without hope
because that would be a lie
and living true is where the real magic swirls
miracles and mystery
like chunks of lime
and honey in my tea.


So I open wide,
stretching awake to the sweetest dream
as I drop down into the delicious presence
of heaven breathing right inside my belly
and my mind sits down hard so my heart can soar
as I put my head down on the floor
and let

~it isn’t what it seems,
this in-between,
even when it frays like rope in weather;
becoming can be a jumble,
sometimes an uphill dribble
so lean in,
open wide
and let hope sing.




This post is about some mama-longing in my heart
that feels like winter-weary waiting
for the Spring.
Are you in a place like that,  too?
Hope and patience,  baby.
The brightest blooms
have a “suddenly” way about them.

“You are the fire that burns out my cold
you’re the warm light in this winter-weary soul…”

-just a song i’m singing