Wednesday of Spirit Week.

so. these are the things.  I have listened to Sharon Olds speak…if you don’t know her poetry, seek it out. she writes on motherhood and love for children and divorce and shame and sex and she does it in a kitchen table way . a salty broad. deeply intelligent and full of humor in the depths.

i have lit my candles. i have drawn my cards. I have avoided reading about ‘Death, reversed’, until i had to and then i found it satisfying.

I have listened to my friends talk.  I have tended the chickens with less annoyance and more enjoyment of the spring weather. I have had to buy another hat, because I was caught out in spring chill and sometimes it is colder than all other times of the year, this hopeful exposure.

i have taken a long and hot bath. I have let the battery on my phone stay uncharged. (oh god, just a little, but i did.)

i have installed hooks into each of the boys rooms. which doesn’t sound spiritually connected, but is.  when i’m doing an act of service for them that has been on my mental list for weeks, if not months, i feel deeply connected to my mothership. it is a slow game, frequently of exasperation and temper, and when i do something so simple and caring, it makes me feel like cashmere.

and therein lies Spirit. The Cashmere.

i bought myself tulips and I am watching them unfold. incredible work of nature.  I found the early blooming iris in my sunny spot. iris-like crocus, i think. so early. so resilient. year after year, solo, first color in the yard.  I have no memory of planting anything there. and there it is, again.

paying attention. paying attention. paying attention.

there is time for all of it. there just is.



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