what we leave behind
Before hearts can be overflowing they first must be unsealed Until that time they are corked bottles Contents under pressure Carbonation straining seams
A time bomb
Or perhaps a pinhole prick The pressure leaking out unnoticed Until the day it is opened and nothing happens
A heart gone flat
I didn't end up where I thought I would today.
In the morning, I sat outside on the deck, on a mat. I breathed, I listened. I realized that I have built up a little practice. In spite of myself. In spite of all the years of desperate attempts to build a practice.
I have a full little life here. Or I can. It's all here. All the parts.
Its finally warm enough to sit outside in the mornings. Yesterday it rained on and off all day. Spring rain. Heavy, but with no wind. Cool, even cold. Today it was bright and blue. The air was wet, and it was cool again, but a different kind.
After my time on the deck, watching the shadows of the aspen leaves quake, I took a long walk. D and I are learning the names of the trees. But when I take walks by myself, I think I am trying to get to know them in a different way. D has her own questions for the trees.
Names are where we meet in the middle.
I met up with D on my walk. She tricked me into ruining a good stroll with exercise. I am lucky to have her. She is as close to a better angel as they come.
Later, we tended to the trees in our back yard. I am new to managing my yard. We had to cut down a dead tree. D is saving the wood. It was an aspen. We hope the rest of the cluster will be okay. I am optimistic.
We've been here nearly a year, but it feels like we're finally taking stewardship of our little patch of land, humble that it is.
*** I didn't end up where I thought I would today. I was guided here.
I made a decision at the last minute. I thought it was spontaneous. But I was on my way long before today. Today I saw the thread. A thread that's always been there. Not the most important thing. Not usually where my energy was focused. But it's been there, this whole time. I see that now. I saw that this morning.
*** Each tree is a breath the turn of the seasons: the space between moments
Each tree is the space between breath Earth herself just the lungs in a vast apparatus
We are all the universe, flinging out our arms in a mad spin of joy
*** Pulling on this thread. Following this path. Leaning into the direction of the moment. It feels like paying a debt for an old friend. Or maybe a new one.
*** This is the first piece. The first piece of the first piece. More will come. We just have to hold on. I'll see you at the next one.