What Stillness Looks Like

 Elephant sea lions on the California coast, Horizon Perfekt, 35mm

Not knitting. Letting your arms drop and your hands release even this motion.

Going where the words cannot follow.

Listening to rhythms and melodies on repeat. Forgoing narrative and story long enough to find your way on the inside before having to explain yourself on the outside.

Dropping all the way into memory and emotion like a deep well. Gathering what there is to gather before coming up again.

Letting your face soften. Exhaling all the way. Trusting the ones you love to hold your frailty with gentleness and understanding.

Allowing the passage of time to be a medicine.

Patience while you find your way. Back to center. Forward to what's next (yes, of course--someday), but a long long spell of steady standing patience in between.

Thinking of so many things you could be doing and saying, Not Today.

Watching the sunrise. Doing what the day requires and no more. Ending the day under a blanket (by a fire if you're lucky) and repeating.

Read more January 2014 writings here.