in flight
It’s raining in December and another year has flown by. A year of sad things and joyful things, hard things and soft things, big things and little things. A year like most years, I suppose.
It was also a year of learning. Of grieving and forgiving and standing up straight, even so. A year of making more room for love. A year of shifting.
The world makes me sad and I withdraw. Love gives me hope and draws me out. Life gives me breath and what more is there, really? The gift of dawn, the gift of December, the gift of another year.
It’s not my job to stop time from passing. It’s not my job to fight the truth of existence. It’s not my job to rail against the frailties of humanity.
My job is to soar, with grace and curiosity. Or at least to promise to try. Wonder-wander and observe. Listen. Absorb. Sit with the birds and sing. Embrace the miracle of sky.
My job is to keep my heart open, even as it grows heavy.
I have these wings. I have this light. I have this rubicon to bury.
I mark each month on a trunk filled with feathers, the weight of a nest to come home to.
The ballast of living.
.
.
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December 17th, 2015 at 9:48 am
So beautiful! Life – the ebb and flow. A great reminder to keep the heart open. Thank you.
December 17th, 2015 at 10:49 am
The promise to try, of course, that’s what we all do, I believe. I love your soft, strong heart.