::

This year, when did you feel the most integrated with your body? Did you have a moment where there wasn’t mind and body, but simply a cohesive YOU, alive and present?

Okay, I am cheating again. I hadn’t planned to, but once again, I have no better answer to this prompt than a post I had already written, back in April. And suppose it’s no coincidence that this post also had a hawk in it. Plus, now I will have a little extra time to catch up on some of the other fabulous reberb10 reading out there!

::

dirty hands, warm heart

I pulled a million dandelions out of my garden yesterday.

Okay, I exaggerate. A tad. But you know what? I enjoyed every minute of it. Not the dandelions themselves, but the work. The labor. The being outside in the sun listening to the birds sing
while breathing in the wonderfully fresh spring air kind of labor.
A labor of love.

My favorite way to spend a day, when I have a whole day to spend, is in my garden. No rushing, no agenda, just me, the earth, the plants, the birds, and perhaps a worm or two thrown in for good measure.

The hours pass silently, the way they will when you are doing something you love. I don’t think about them, clock them, care about them. I don’t spend them worrying about how fast they are flying by, the way I do most days.

I am suspended in garden time like a lazy bumblebee drifting from flower to flower. The sun on my back, a little Joni Mitchell or Ben Webster in the background. And the good, hard work. Simple work. The kind that lets your mind wander where it will, and somehow nudges those wanderings in just the right direction.

Sweating, but not the small stuff. Folding life down into a tiny microcosm, a world that exists just outside my vision most of the time. An ant struggling with a piece of food three times his size. Tree swallows taking turns bringing food to their babies. The sudden hush when a hawk flies over… so quiet that you stop what you are doing without knowing why.

You have to be there to notice these things. In the present. In the moment. This one moment that you only have while you are in it. The young swallows will fly away, soon. The ant will finish his journey and live, or die. The hawk will take something precious to another, but the birds will sing again, continue on.

I am glad I stole those hours. They were worth the extra work that will have to be made up later. They were hours of peace. And quiet. The kind of quiet that lets you listen to yourself, the world around you, the birds in the trees, the rustle of the wind.

The kind of quiet that lets you take it all in and keep it with you.

Until it soars back out as a smile.

::

What are 11 things your life doesn’t need in 2011?

::

i can pick at least eleven things
the whole world could do without:

war. poverty. hunger.

intolerance. abuse. disease.

hatred. cruelty. disaster.

violence. indifference.

::

after that,

all the things i don’t need,

well, they’re just

things.

::

{reverb10} check it out here

::

What was the wisest decision you made this year, and how
did it play out?

::

I ran it out.

I flew.

I became twice my son’s age.

I was grateful.

I danced.

I got lost in the crowd.

I watched life through a smile and a curtain.

I hoped.

I celebrated.

I dug down deep and found a word.

I fell and got back up.

I watched shadows dance across the floor.

I wrestled my to-do list, and I won.

I stared out of windows late at night.

I stood in the dark and listened for sunrise.

I forgave.

I wore purple rain boots that made me happy.

I wrote.

I sat there and looked pretty.

I asked questions, the right ones, and the wrong ones.

I stood on the outside looking in.

I sat beneath a windmill and I cried.

I listened.

I enjoyed a breeze of silence.

I took one more step.

I made pickles.

I became a crazy cat lady.

I drew a heart using the moon as my pencil.

I loved.

I worried.

I began.

I let my hair blow wildly in the wind.

I ran six miles on a 90 degree day,
bought a dip top ice cream cone and
let it drip down my arms as I ate it.

I sat on the floor and I wept.

I pulled weeds.

I was a weed.

I ate chocolate.

I watched minutes tick away on the clock.

I saw a lifetime of fabulous views.

I wore rose colored glasses.

I stole hours of quiet and held them in
until they came back out as smiles.

I giggled.

I reached for the sky.

In other words,

I lived.

::

These are all ideas or excerpts taken from my posts this past year.

{reverb10} check it out here

Every morning, I have my own little tea party.

For me, tea is more than just a beverage, more than a daily dose of caffeine. It is a ritual that grounds me, a habit that comforts me, tea is part of who I am.

Tea requires patience. No instant gratification here, even if you use a tea bag. You have to wait if you want it to taste just right, you have to boil the water in a teapot on the stove, always. The best tea is made from loose leaves, in a pot. The best tea requires that you bide your time.

And you have to sit at your kitchen table for the first cup of the day and stare out the window at your little corner of the world, noting the changing seasons and the antics of the birds, and the way the sun glints off the freshly fallen snow.

In summer, you have to have your first cup in the garden as you listen to those same birds singing their hellos. If you are lucky, you will get there in time to watch the sun rise. If you are lucky, the tea will be the perfect complement to dawn’s new dress.

No matter how busy the rest of the day will be for me, there is always that first cup of tea.

That moment of meditation, the breathing in of day’s beginning,

the drinking in of endless possibility.

Now that’s my kind of party.

{reverb10} check it out here

::

Reflect on all the things that make you different –
you’ll find they’re what make you beautiful.

::

my path was

oh-so-crooked,

but i reached for

the same light

as you.

::

together,

in the same pot,

we grew.

::

{reverb10} check it out here

::

Where have you discovered community, online or otherwise, in 2010?

::

I hang out by myself a lot. I work at home, so the great majority of my time is spent here, alone, with all these cats.

I am a loner, but I am almost never lonely.

Since I started my blogs earlier this year, I have made many new friends, my community has expanded exponentially. I have always been the kind of person that has just a few close friends, I am not so good in groups or wide social circles. I’m not someone who always has a lot of social engagements, I am quite content to stay at home.

But something in me is changing.

It’s not just that I am meeting so many new people, some of whom have become true friends, it is that I am learning to love humanity.

Does that sound weird?

Well, it probably does, but what I mean is that I have learned to embrace other people in ways that I never used to. I have learned how to forgive, how to accept, how to not hold back out of fear or shyness or insecurity.

I’m not always perfect at it, but this is a big change for me.

In high school, I was a geek, a nerd, I was very successful academically, I graduated eighth in my class. But socially, well, as my husband would say, I was a donut.

That was a long time ago, and I had learned to navigate my way through the world well before this year.

But I hadn’t yet learned to walk right up and give it a hug.

And that might just be the most important thing I learned all year.

Or in my life.

::

What was the last thing you made? What materials did you use? Is there something you want to make, but you need to clear some time for it?

::

I make things every day.

I am a graphic designer by trade, so it is my job to make something from nothing. To create. I love my job.

I am also a jewelry designer. (I talk about my jewelry mostly on my other blog, the blue muse, or if you are interested, my shop is here). I love this job, too, I think of it as adding beauty to the world.

I am a worker bee. I am a maker. Almost every year, I make many of my Christmas gifts.

I first learned to knit when I was a teenager. Then I stopped for a long time, but a few years ago, I took it up again. It is the most relaxing craft that I have ever found, just the right mix of concentration and repetitive thinking, almost like meditation.

I started the afghan in the photo above two winters ago. It is two-thirds of the way done, but last year, I hardly worked on it at all.  And it’s not that I can’t get it done, I once made my mom an entire afghan in three days because she was going into the hospital for an operation and I wanted her to have it with her.

It is because it is only for me. There is no deadline, or holiday, or reason that I have to finish it. So there it sits, still in my knitting bag, waiting for me to come back to it.

Even with my jewelry, it is rare that I keep a piece for myself. But every once in a while, I fall so in love with a piece that I have to. This necklace is the only thing I kept for myself this year. It reminds me of van Gogh’s cherry blossoms. I wear it every day.

But mostly, I make things for other people. For my job, for my business, for my family, for friends.

I make things every day.

That’s who I am. That’s what I do.

This winter, I think it’s time to finish that afghan.

For me.

{reverb10} check it out here

::

What (or whom) did you let go of this year? Why?

::

Mostly, I let go of fear.

Fear that I’m not good enough.

Fear that I am good enough.

Fear that this is all there is. That there might be something more.
That life will be pass me by and when I reach the end of the road
I will still be saying, someday.

Fear that when I look in the mirror I won’t recognize
the eyes staring back at me.
Or the wrinkles.

Fear that I can’t handle loss, fear of what I might find.

Fear that I am who I am.
And that everyone else is who they are.

Fear that so much of the time, it is too late.

I opened my hand and my heart
and let all the fear fly out,
like starlings.

They’re all up in the sky now, those fears.

Swooping and soaring

in a symphony

of not afraid.

{reverb10} check it out here

::

How did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year?

::

every morning,

i opened my eyes.

::

{reverb10} check it out here

::

What do you do each day that doesn’t contribute to your writing
— and can you eliminate it?

::

I lack focus.

And time.

I am working on the the focus part, and really, I am getting better at it. Even on the craziest of days, most of the time I manage to zoom into my writing brain. Not always. But mostly.

As for the lack of time, that is more difficult, most of the things I do that take up my time are things involving making a living.
Not easy as a self-employed artist, no 9-5 schedule, no delegating
to someone else, no putting it off until tomorrow.

I am learning as I go along. About writing, about time, about life.

Three things that are all intangible, unmanageable,
beyond my control.

But when I let go of all three and let them just be what they are,

that’s when the magic happens.