solitude

i love solitude, not because i don't love people, but i love the quiet.

the autonomy. the little decisions that are all mine to make.

the simplicity. the reflection.

i love it for the dreams that come to life within me regardless if I ever see any of them through.

solitude is where the answers come to the questions i didn't even know to ask.

it is the place where i talk to trees and sing to my grandmother.

solitude is where i touch the sacred feminine wisdom that lies within my soul.

it is where i rest my beautiful aging body and my brilliant mind.

one day when it is my last, i will embrace with loving arms, solitude.

Him & I

This is the mountain my son spends his days. Nestled by endless peaks and valleys. Far away from his bed that I miss him sleeping in. His laugh that I miss echoing through these walls and into my heart. The daily musings of life over morning coffee. And our endless talk of the birds, their beaks open, taking the sky into their lungs. Their song making its way to our kitchen table.

I sometimes long for the olden days. The ones where the nest is full with feathers and warmth. The ones where they flew away but came back.

These mountains ridges that reach to the heavens bring me comfort. They hold my son in between their peaks. The sun that touches them in the morning and tucks behind them at night lightens my sometimes heavy heart.

If I could just reach across this county to take him into my arms, I would sleep well tonight. But, I surrender. I let the air between us swirl and dance. As I curl up in bed I tuck us both in, me in the covers and him in my heart.

I wash my clothes by hand.
A sacred act of care, of wet cotton fiber threaded together under the sun, dried in the winds then pressed to my body.

These garments dress me in natural beauty and weave my days together while I’m on this walk on earth. Her ground and skies are where my prayers are lifted and sent into the ethers.

I’m purified my smoke and breath, by drum and rattle, by sunrise and set.

I’ve never loved my life more. And so the time comes to take another breath, fully aware of the magic of it all and to slip my body into the day’s fibers, my skin touching the delicate softness of life.

This skin I wear, a garment for my bones.
My bones held together for however long they are until they join the earth in union with all who have walked before me.

Let me hold these garments loosely so when I meet the ground in my final breath, I do so in the deepest of reverence.

A Settling

Dad

You no longer recall my name,

but you know the comfort of my presence,

the familiarity of my hands on your kind shoulders.

Your laughter soothes my worried soul.

I try to grab onto your memories of old, but they are no longer within reach.

I must step again into the present moment, into our drives through the park, our dishes of ice cream by the riverside.

I bring up Kent State to see if there is an old story that somehow your mind swept the dust away to tell, but I learn again to accept what is right now, knowing that this moment one day won’t be.

I love you dad. I wish I could hear your old words of advice, but I know they are locked in my heart for safekeeping.

I used to get agitated listening to the same life lessons over and over again, but now I know you were imprinting them into my soul, so that when you didn’t have the words to share, they would actually always be within me to hear.

My Heart is Full

I am nearing the end of one of the biggest endeavors of my life - homeschooling my two boys.  It started as a trial and mostly insecurity.  Little fairytales I would tell myself about what it would "look" like.  Little fairytales I would tell those around me hoping for their approval.  It ended up being the best decision I have ever made.  We learned how to navigate new and scary waters.  What began as little art projects and baking has turned into deep independent study and amazing adventures. Nowadays, I am fortunate to see them for longer than few moments, catching up on the day or if I am lucky a family board game, knowing full well they are just playing for me. I soak in every chance I get to spend time with them. Somedays dinner is made and they are both gone, leading the start of their very own independent lives. Life is like this. It gives us opportunity after opportunity to release, to set free, to be flexible and to live our best life possible in the moment we are in.  I know I still have a few years with them home.  Every night I go to bed, I am grateful that they we are still under the same roof.  I will never take this for granted.

This year, I took on another completely amazing endeavor that is coming close to the end as well - teaching a 200 hour Yoga Teacher Training program.  Words will never be able to explain the love I have for this group of strangers who came together.  There truly are no words.  A big part of me doesn't want to let them go next month when they graduate. I want them with me for endless hours of laughter, tears, study, discussion, everything that is yoga.  One of yoga's biggest teachings is non-attachment. So, soon I must put this into practice.  But, for right now,  I admit, I am holding on and am simply going to relish in every moment with each of them.  Every. Single. One.  

I am comforted in so many areas of my life by the quote that says, "Often times what looks like an ending, is actually a beginning."  With my children, it may mean a different kind of being together, like adults having fun, sharing life with new traditions in the making. With the yogis it may mean an even deeper layering of these beautiful relationships.

All of it may mean less time, but I know in my heart that what I do have control over, is my very own deep presence in the moments I do have with everyone in my life. 

Oh, life.  I love you. You make me grow through the pains you provide. Without the pains, my heart would never be this full.