Sunday, May 18, 2014

Nice Turn Of Events

Butterfly by Krista

May 18. 2014

Maybe it's spring. The way it bursts out of the gate, first the snowbells coming up in the snow, then, I don't know, purple crocus tucked by the rock in the backyard, magnolia teacup, the blaze of the forsythia, crazy yellow. Next thing I know the irises are waving their tall and slender selves, the apple tree blooms + turns flush with green leaves. The yard where I walked up to my thighs in snow all winter is freshly mowed. 

Maybe it's that Michael came home from Los Angeles for a couple of weeks and life felt a little more normal, or a little less lopsided. Having your husband working on the opposite coast is challenging, especially through the hardest winter I can recall. 

But west and east
point b and point a
it's how we fell in love in the first place. 

~ that's a good story

Maybe I'm noticing more moments of gladness after what feels like years of a thrumming worry running through me/ not that I was always worried. But you know the underground stream.

Not that it has disappeared, it's in my fat cells. 

It's about allowing the gladness.

like it's possible that it can be a natural state of being.

Like wearing really red boots, I don't have any but still..., or hearing the Happy Song on the radio when you pull in the driveway and you start dancing with your kid until the whole song is done, or smothering a graham cracker with peanut butter and sliding a piece of chocolate on top followed by eating, or the first grader who comes up and says in a very sincere voice - 

Ms. Jackson, I love you. we'd just met that day!

Or the other sincere first grader who shared that she had repeated first grade but wasn't quite sure she was ready to go to second. 

I knew exactly what the kid was talking about. 

Why leave, I like it here!

you got to flow with the river, kid.

I don't have to be fretful. Nothing personal, Henny. 

I can sweep my barnyard without watching the sky.

I can sweep and walk and sleep and love + dance and be awake in the middle of the night and miss my guy and wonder about Dad and hang with six year olds or my John Deere and still,

be filled with a kind of gladness instead.

It's feels like a nice turn of events. 

namaste, lovelies.

xo b

Monday, May 5, 2014

Something Like That

Lobster and Turtle, friends

May 5. 2014

I didn't make it here yesterday as Dad ended up in the hospital over the weekend with pneumonia. Yikes. He was quite a confused boy, especially when the EMT's came to get him. Lorraine, the nurse at the home where Dad lives said on the phone,

Your father has a fever. He's just NOT himself.

I chatted with Mackenzie, the EMT, at the hospital. 

She said,

Your Dad shouted, Hell yeah! Rock and roll! as we were trying to get him in the ambulance.

So maybe he actually WAS himself. 

Two nights in the hospital and he is on the mend. It was a tiring weekend mixed with the beauty of sun and clouds and watching Claire run at a track meet and the gentle kindness of my brother, Rob, who drove over to lend a hand with Dad. 

Dad! Put your penis in the bottle! 

okay then.

I am thinking about how sometimes I carry you and sometimes you carry me, like lobster and turtle?

I am thinking about all the support I receive from so many people who live near and far. And all the people I care for and support to the best of my ability. Offered with spaciousness + love, rather than trying to be perfect, is way easier on the spirit. 

The smallest thing: 

a hug
a note
a cup of coffee
a helping hand
a phone call
cooking a delicious meal thank you, Michael xo
a listening ear

It doesn't have to be a fireworks show.

Take a moment. 

Who do you support? way to go!
Who supports you? thank them today

Hold that feeling. 
Feel the soft place to land.

amazing, right? 

Running around, figuring things out, freaking out - 

not really what it's about. 

Leaning in, leaning on - it's a daily practice of trust.

feel the support
offer support
trust the love

It's like a really good peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

~ or something like that.

xo b