123 Street Avenue, City Town, 99999
(123) 555-6789
email@address.com
You can set your address, phone number, email and site description in the settings tab.
Link to read me page with more information.
toadstools in aunt honey's yard . november, 2009
five (really) good things on this quiet day:
1) my husband who made all three meals today and did laundry. yes. he is the best.
2) having time to just breathe
3) watching movies while cuddled on the couch
4) comfortable clothes that force me out of pajamas
5) more than 24 hours of no (intense) nausea
and you? what are a few really good things in your world? i would love to know.
photos from the archives.
two years ago.
a dear friend visiting.
a november day in seattle.
(thank you nablopomo for forcing me into my archives today.)
manzanita lines . september, 2009
thank you so much for your kind words (and morning sickness advice). reading all your comments here and on facebook has put a smile on my face all day long. it is a real gift to be able to share the joy...
and thank you for embracing my video. i wanted to tell you in the closest way to face to face that i could.
tonight, i am feeling a bit tired of my own words, so i want to send you to read the words of a favorite poem of mine by david whyte. the poem is "start close in," and you can find it by clicking here. (the poem appears in the far left column of this page.) i was lucky enough to hear him read this poem a few years ago.
the rhythm of his reading that night greatly influenced how i write at times and taught me about the beauty that can be found in repetition. as he read, he repeated lines so that we could really hear them, really hear how he said each word. he also shared the stories behind the poetry. if you ever have a chance to hear him, go. you simply must.
that evening of listening to david whyte was just after a challenging few weeks in my life. the idea to "start with the step you don't want to take" pushed me gently in the way i needed to be pushed. in retrospect, i think it pulled me back to my path of listening and trusting my own inner voice. yes, go and read this poem. read it out loud. right now. to anyone who will listen but most importantly, read it to you.
(unearthers, this is also a link to the book of his poetry that i had in manzanita. this is the poem i read that first night.)
carolina wren turns her back to me
tail feather straight up
wiggles
you better really live it
she seems to say
you better really live it
you said
when i moved into my first apartment after college
you better do all that i didn't do
i hear you
in the rustling of the wren
who looks at me
just before she whisks off
to live
*****
i hear her saying those words. i hear her in the chirping of the hummingbird wondering where the feeder is. i hear her when i close my eyes and breathe deeply. i hear her. i tell myself this when it feels like i am forgetting, when i want to hear her voice say the right thing. though, truth is, she simply didn't always have the right words. but i pretend, at least on this day. and then, when i admit i know the truth of not being able to hear her, not in the ways i want to, and admit that she might not have the words i need to here in this place right now, i remember my mother's voice earlier today. i hear my mother's voice and i hear love. and it is good. and i am blessed. and i breathe in and out and keep moving forward.
so much i want to write today. i want to write about seven years of being married to the best person i know. i want to participate in christina's simple things. i want to share a few very very good things happening in our world. i want to reach inside to share pieces of the truth that is my life, my path.
but i am tired and i am needing to rest and curl up on the couch with jonny and just be a bit while drinking tea and eating a cookie or two and watching a movie.
so, instead of writing all the things i want to write, i want to instead say this:
how are you?
really,
how. are. you?
me and my dad . long ago
