I’ve gotten so used to gratitude lists and re-framing and only wanting to share the juiciest, best feeling nuggets. And yet, things are conspiring to remind me to sit with the feelings. To honor the harder feelings. And so here I am, with this opportunity to share.
I was really inexplicably sad and frustrated for a while. Or perhaps explicably. The explication having something to do with wanting so much to create, and not quite knowing the release-form, the outlet. But I’m not sure if that was all of it, because the feelings just kept bursting.
Letting my feelings be, and the emergence out of them and into new feelings being so exquisite. Truly the death of a caterpillar, the birth of a butterfly. Knowing midst the terribly sad thots how really melodramatic I was being, and poetic, and perfect. Letting it all be. And speaking about it to a friend, who made me feel divine.
Learning with L. a little thing that really improves our communication and understanding about who is going to be with our darling baby when. Wow the little things.
Sitting on the back porch with Emily, seeing how this is heaven on earth, the horses meandering in the pasture, the gorgeous pond-lake, the super green grass freckled with dandelions, the bright blue sky, the invitation to share and deeply listen.
Recognizing that in my not-making of art, I am preserving what is. So, that kind of makes what is a form of my art. My leaving that tree alone, not cutting it down or obstructing the view, somehow makes the tree itself a part of my art. How fascinating.
A phone call with my love, Sara, and realizing that when she comes to be with me in a few months, we’ll be living together, sharing more of each other than ever before. I can already taste the beauty of it, the flavors of what we’ll create and feel together. And I feel that it’s okay and right for there to be this spaciousness before then.
Sara knew what I meant with this “allowing what is to be is the art”ness. She called it Bewholeding. The wholeness of all that is and I am. It feels so right and ripe and sugary to think of this as the first layer of my art in this farm. The what is-ness. Seeing it and appreciating it. And nurturing it…how lovely it is to water the plants and pull out what doesn’t belong in the vegetable beds.
And perhaps, there is a golden layer beyond the bewholeding, where I might catch glimpses of what is to come, and I can then create that, following the thread. I think that might be what is next. I have an urge to make a stick-model of a structure that Jess and I have been dreaming of. I have a glimmer of it in my imagination, beckoning me.
My new computer arriving, and feeling so happy gardening that I was like, “Oh I’ll wait to open it.” And then opening it just in time for an internet play date with my miraculous friend, where we arranged for there to be a play camp at the farm I’m living on…bringing her to me less than a month from now. Zing! Zing zing zing zing zing!
Coming to a beautiful clarity with my friend about how the sessions we do together will now involve an agreed-upon payment, and it being the right amount with bonus art, the sweet spot. So grateful for the sweet spot.
This art studio. Being a beautiful haven where I can step away from the glorious bustle of the main house and get my groove on, with the gentle tapping of the curtain and the creak of the door and the hiccuping songs of the high-pitched birds, the far-away swoon of the loon: the perfect accompaniment to my lyrical thots.
How my new computer has already learned my spelling of thots.
Being with the hard feelings.
I wish for…
Really reliable trust in my finances. Letting the how be a mystery.
Clarity around what I’m wanting with my Love Tending practice. Feeling ready for a couple more love tendees, trusting that we’ll find the sweet spot as simply as happening to pick a dandelion with my barefoot toes as I walk through the grass.
I’m borrowing this format from Havi Brooks’s weekly Friday blog, where she has similar categories to help her frame her week.