me…
.
in my
garden and
in my
dreams.
.
.
::
Reverb 12/Cultivate 2012:
Post your favourite picture of yourself from 2012, self-portrait or otherwise.
::
.
in my
garden and
in my
dreams.
.
.
::
Reverb 12/Cultivate 2012:
Post your favourite picture of yourself from 2012, self-portrait or otherwise.
::
a sky
to leap into,
a place
to land.
.
.
::
Reverb 12/Cultivate 2012:
Cultivate isn’t about being in a constant state of happiness — it’s about
practicing happiness, much like you’d practice a sport or musical instrument.
How can you infuse more appreciation for the people, places,
and things that bring you joy?
::
I am the wraith of winter
I spin loose tales of death and direction
decorate with grey and hollowed out stones
.
I light the night with moondust and parody
weave rough wool from forest and folly
paint the sun into places you’ve never imagined
.
I can warm your toes and chill your heart
breathe life into howls that could tear you apart
sit silent when you beg for a song
.
I wear a belt of keys but never open a door
rattle chains that were forged from lost days
hope is the ring I wear on my finger
.
I am always gone and never away
neither friend nor foe in your subliminal story
I am the wraith of winter
.
.
.
Yesterday, my husband broke my all-time favorite teacup. It was an accident, and I forgave him thirty seconds later (yes, it took thirty seconds). And I know what you’re thinking: it was just a cup.
But it wasn’t. It was the perfect cup. The perfect sky blue color, the perfect cup-in-palm shape, the perfect weight, the perfect size for morning tea. I’ve seen a lot of life reflected in this cup. It’s the first thing I talk to every morning. No one else even wants to talk to me before we’ve shared at least one cup of tea. And by we, I mean me and my cup.
I found it one day at a flea market, years and years and years ago. It jumped right into my hand, knowing it would be going home with me. It only cost a few dollars, and I already had a beige version of the same cup at home, my then-favorite that had developed a hairline crack after many years of daily use. I still have that cup in the back of the cupboard, even though it’s cracked. It’s hard to part with old friends.
I also have a white version of the same cup, which is what I’m drinking out of this morning. And it’s almost as good as the blue one, but if I am honest, I must admit, I’ve always played favorites and loved the blue one just a little bit more. I know it’s wrong. But I couldn’t help it.
Truth is, I have a cupboard full of tea cups. And favorites I use for every different kind of tea. But my favorite tea is morning tea, most especially the very first cup, and my sky blue cup has been through a lot of mornings with me. Outside in the garden sipping a reflection of the sky, inside snuggled up with a book and blanket, work days that I would never have been able to face without my friend in hand.
Don’t get me wrong, in the grand scheme of things, I know this is nothing. That it is, in truth, just a cup. There are ten million things in life more important than this.
But just for this one short minute, in answer to this prompt, I’m allowing myself to mourn my cup.
Call me crazy if you want, I don’t mind.
But whisper, okay? Because I’ll be having a moment of silence.
.
.
::
Reverb 12/Cultivate 2012:
What matters most to you right now?
::
The older I get, the more often I find myself starting books and not finishing them.
It used to be that if I started a book, I would finish it, no matter what. But these days, with so many options, and so little time to give to reading, if a book doesn’t grab me pretty early on, it goes back in the pile. And even if I get halfway through and it isn’t holding my attention, it goes back in the pile.
I feel a slight twinge of guilt about this, always. But, so be it.
I didn’t find an over-the-top favorite this year. A beautiful book to vie for a place on my top ten list. Of course, that can’t happen every year, that list is only for the exceptional standouts.
But there were a few that came very close. The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh, The Fault in our Stars by John Green, Nightwoods by Charles Frazier, Freedom by Jonathan Franzen. All excellent.
There was also When Women Were Birds by Terry Tempest Williams, non-fiction, but beautiful just the same. And I also bought several of Mary Oliver’s books and read her poetry for the first time. To be honest, I hadn’t expected to love it as much as I did. Oh my. Silly me.
So let me ask you this question: What was your favorite book of 2012?
Because you know, there’s still time, and I’m still looking.
.
.
::
Reverb 12/Cultivate 2012:
What was the best book you read in 2012, and why??
::
.
i begged my garden
for forgiveness,
and she
brought me
flowers.
.
.
::
Reverb 12/Cultivate 2012:
What was the most important relationship that you fostered in 2012?
::
.
simply this.
.
::
Reverb 12/Cultivate 2012:
What’s the one thing you want to take with you into 2013?
::
2012 was the year of discarding.
It was amazing how good that felt, amazing how opening up a little physical space in my life made my mind open up a bit as well.
Of course, it wasn’t just things that I let go of, it was also ideas. Perfection was at the top of the list, followed by the notion of being caught up. I also tossed some fear to the wind and watched it fly away, despite the fact that it kept telling me those wings were broken.
Truth is, I tossed with abandon.
I threw out boxes of things and bags of possessions. I flung words into every corner and watched them wrestle. I hurled old hurts into the fire, and grudges got the boot.
And then I opened my arms wide and embraced the sky.
My hands are empty, but my heart is not.
I became a gypsy.
Well, okay, not exactly.
But you know what I mean.
.
.
.
::
Reverb 12/Cultivate 2012:
What do you need to let go of to cultivate your best life in 2013?
What did you learn?
::
In thinking about what lesson really jumped out at me this past year, the word that kept popping into my mind was dance. And I don’t mean I took dance lessons, I mean, I danced.
Oh there were other lessons, I learned that discarding is a beautiful thing, that time is more valuable than money, that space, empty space, doesn’t always need to filled. I learned how to let go and how to hold on, how to be strong and how to be open, the importance of forgiveness and the impossibility of tomorrow. I learned that I still have so very much to learn.
But mostly, I danced.
Beneath the moon and out in the sun, while I washed dishes and vacuumed the floor, in my mind and in my heart and everywhere I went, I danced. With trees and flowers, birds and butterflies, snowflakes and smiles.
I danced while I worked, I danced while I ran, I danced while planting tiny seedlings.
I twirled and turned, bent and dipped, waltzed and two-stepped. (I even kicked and stretched like Sally O’Malley in the parking lot of the mall to make my mom and sister laugh – but that’s a whole different story.)
In the fall, after I had been sick with the flu and stuck inside forever, I went to walk with my husband and son one day while they golfed. And way across on the other side of the course, I spotted this dancing leaf girl, some crazy vine gone wild in the untended edge of the rough.
She’d been out there the whole time, holding my place.
And then I knew that I was just exactly where I was supposed to be at that moment, beneath that endless bowl of sky, pirouetting in the golden glint of sun.
I danced all the way home.
I’m dancing, still.
.
.
.
::
Reverb 12/Cultivate 2012:
What lesson really jumped out at you this year? How can you cultivate that lesson going forward?
What was your dream destination in 2012 and why? ?
::
pink raspberry rhyme of sky
in a slice of winter window
pie-faced and pretty
and asking nothing
in return
no one ever said
a clean slate
was required
to be grey
.
.
.
.