I finished my journal today, so I get to begin my new one tomorrow. This is a long-awaited event; I picked out my next journal weeks ago at Cog and Pearl, down the street. It's handmade by these Seattle artists who take discarded books from libraries and such and give them a new life as journal covers. Original pages from the book are interspersed with plain white sheets of possibility. I felt such a strong remembrance for this cover that I think it may have been one of my readers in elementary school. My artist child was ecstatic. I will confess here that prior to The Artist's Way I had never completed a journal to the end in my life. I've now filled two. There's a surprising satisfaction about that.
Lucy is sitting up all the time now. This is one of my favorite stages, where they can sit and play with their toys but aren't yet mobile enough to require constant surveillance. The frustration of not being mobile hasn't hit her yet, she is in the joy of a newly-acquired skill. Now that she's a big girl six-month-old, she's realizing that there is a whole world out there beyond me, which is sad and fun to watch at the same time. There is something about being home to another human being that, to me, is one of the most sacred experiences I've had. It's short-lived, so it is to be savored. Lucy's body has this way of melting into the space my body creates in front of it that makes her feel like a perfect fit, just as her soul is a perfect fit for mine. We were sitting just that way this afternoon, and she was singing along to Karen Peris in my ear and blowing spit bubbles through her fist.
Now it's time for the weekend, which always poses a huge dilemma. What time do we set aside for life management projects, when we'd rather hit the museum and the garden and the Empire State Building? I still want to shop in Chinatown. So much city, so little weekend. In addition, I'm doing my best to reinstate the Sabbath rest I've been practicing for the better part of the last year. So then we ask, what is rest for us today? And we take the time, plugging our ears to the to-do lists and sight-seeing adventures that would distract us from giving our bodies and minds the care they need. Rest and peace be yours.