there comes the forgiveness

 

yes.

i understand now.

on the long road to inner revolution,
after various levels of hell have been peered in to,
some visited for scorching levels of time,
after the cooling wonderment of joy has been remembered,
there comes the forgiveness.

self to self.
whispered.
light, yet deep.

patience comes.
nourishment comes.
the weight of the world slips off.

it will all be forgotten.
soon.
too soon.

but, having come to this point on the road,
this point of intimate self-whispers,
when i am lost and scorched
i will find my way back.

and i will forgive again.

this is what i am wondering

this is what i am wondering~ are the people who excel at lasting happiness, who overcome setbacks, who sustain their interests in worthwhile things, who can feed themselves well, who set and keep healthy boundaries, who succeed in and have patience in relationships, are they the ones among us who have forgiven themselves?

the joy project~riding with roses

sittin' there, lookin' pretty

a favorite online friend and writer extraordinaire, debi darlin' of texas, is having a little give-away today. she asked any willing souls to interpret the phrase~ "just sit there and look pretty" and post our vision online. in exchange she would add all names to a hat and give away an original painting of hers to one lucky sitting pretty participant.

a free painting? from a real live artist? baby, i'm in.

so here he is, my book gnome, sitting, reading and looking real darn pretty. i stacked him on some of my favorite books, on a blue painted chair (that's for you, debi!) in front of lace curtains.

say a prayer that my name jumps out of the hat.

if you'd like to see other visions of sitting pretty, click on debi's link and head to the side bar.

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update: september 24th~

I WON!!!! my name jumped out of debi's hat! i tell you, i cried 2 buckets worth of tears when i clicked on her "we have a winner" post. today, i am the luckiest girl in the world. thank you with all my heart, dear debi. xoxo

chasing after clouds

i've been chasing after clouds. i've been falling madly in love with semi-precious beads and learning how to hand knot my own necklaces. i've been playing with my cats and keeping track of black bears in minnesota. i've been making gingered applesauce and gathering ingredients for soups and coffee cakes and quick breads. i've been sitting in the sun. i've been reading and searching for the currently elusive next-great-book. i've been sweater shopping and kudos to me for bothering to buy gloves way before (hopefully) i need them. i've been cleaning and purging and frankly, my place still looks like a bomb went off in 2 rooms. i've been watching for birds. i've been listening to kurdish folk songs and who cares if i don't know the words.

i've been remembering to be grateful. because my mother gets to celebrate another birthday this week. because, no matter the mood of the day, i am blessed beyond words to be a part of this life.

and you?

this day

it's a 53 butterflies day. 21 were monarchs, flitting and lifting themselves into southbound slips of air. orange paper wings on journeys unknown, one roadway, one field at a time.

that second round of chemo, my god, or the third, or the unborn miniature heart that simply dissolved from your planned tomorrows, make for very dark days with no palpable lift.

but there is this day.

 on this day, the sun dodged clouds and shone just for you.

on this day, the starlings rose as one, buoyant above rows of yellowing corn, writing your name, your precious name on the calming force of the wind.

on this day, this day, 53 pairs of paper wings scattered prayers ahead on your path.

prayers of love, prayers of hope, reminders that you are never alone on this, your journey unknown.




{for 3 ladies dear to my heart and you, should you need a prayer or 2.}

the joy project~ joe's farm market

it's the season of bountiful.

niagara grapes, prune plums,

macintosh apples, silver queen corn.

and pumpkins.

praise be the orange gourd~

my favorite form of dirt cheap happiness.

5 big ones, 8 little ones

and i'm not done yet.

{for those of you in the buffalo area, be sure to stop by and see my friend, joe, for local bounty and the best price on pumpkins. he's the young upstart with years of corn and bean picking under his belt, and now he's the guy in charge. find his open-air, bustling business at 11072 main st. in clarence, across from antique world. be sure to pick up his homemade jams while you're there.}

farewell to summer

lean into the suffering

i tell you, lean into the suffering. bend down to meet the fears lurking in the cellar of your subconscious. wake them. rattle them. bear the storm that flows up from the depths. bear it because you can. bear it to know, to finally let yourself know, you are stronger than you imagined. the monsters, the habitual reactions, the stories you cling to and think that define you, they are illusions. they are wardens of a gate-less prison.

stop living in the half-light. once upon a time your methods of deflection and defense were all you could do to keep yourself safe. all these years later, your methods no longer serve you. make the choice to be separate no longer. separate from the great love. separate from yourself. lean into the suffering to break free.

see it. all of it.

acknowledge it. all of it.

feel it.

feel it until you think you might just as well die than endure one more stab of pain from the stories in your cellar.

let the stories die.

in that death, the death of not-you, light will come. wardens will be released. colors will be more vivid. you will feel a new weight, a reassuring weight in your gut, in your cellar. it will be your heart taking up an expanded residence within you, shining its light and writing new stories only love can tell.



{for christine, who will understand.}
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I'm honored to have my ABC's featured as a guest post at the collaborative and delightful blog, SPRING~ Inspiration In Bloom. Thank you to Michelle, Carolyn, Tiffany and Jess.

Natural Modern Art

can you guess this medium in mother nature's art?

One Last Time

to my great joy, at the last, there was a first. creamsicle came right up to the front of the cage and meowed at me when i arrived. i opened the door and he was a fool for being petted. almost as if he was saying, "guess what, guess what? we're going home! thank you, we're going home!" at one point he leaned out the door to show me he is ready. he's come a very long way,  that one.

and blue. he's a dyed in the wool sling-me-over-your-shoulder cat. i could barely pet cream for blue's insistence on jumping into my arms, over and over. the woman he owns next will get little accomplished with his demanding schedule for love. stephanie, quite happily, has born the privilege of satiating that need since blue arrived at her shelter.  it's hard not to love the blue skidoo.

they will be indoor cats at a large house in the country. 3 other cats already live there. i have no doubt they will be happy to have a tribe again. what i wanted for them, abundant food and water, furniture for lounging,  windows for birdwatching and responsible love, they will have.

i lingered today, petting and schmoozing, reminding them to be good and thanking them over and over for the gifts they've set indelibly in my heart. and because i will never see them again, i started to cry on the way out the door.

but my own little remmington cat was waiting for me in the window. when i opened the door, he jumped into my arms and i slung him over my shoulder. with that, the tears were gone and i was home.