No walking this morning. No second cup of tea. Silence. Ten long months of isolation. No family. No friends. No in-person teaching. No softly touching cheeks. No kind kisses. No vaccine.
And this was the year I vowed to be bold. Not to hold back… anything. This 70th year, now nearly half way through. We locate possibility. The eagles returned to their old nest and we are relieved to see them each morning.
I entered the list in my journal yesterday. For the new year. And this morning I ask, What needs to be written? What needs to be said? And how often? Spiritual Practices, the lighting of candles as reminder.
Is every year the year of letting go? I’m looking at my library. Which books can I live without? My daughter gave away all her books last month because of mold… my grandchildren asked for books for Christmas. My one gift from my husband… a book.
This was the year I would say “Yes” more than “No.” Yes to invitations. Yes to sitting meditation. Yes to prayer. Yes to the presence of the Divine. Yes to walking. Yes to sunsets and sunrise. Yes to gateways, thresholds, doors opening. Windows. Fresh air.
Flowers. Not sinking too deeply. Into despair. We keep calling on self-care. Reading between the lines of forgiveness and gratitude. In favor of Radical generosity with others as well as ourselves. Above all generate tenderness. Love at every turn.
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