What started as gray depression
Gradient in its width and depth
Showed to be a condition, hovering,
Amongst us.
Hope on a far away hillside
Hot in its height and breadth
Fueled by a common love, shining,
From us.
Make of it what you will
Promise or memory of what once was.
“Dig deep,” I heard, “to the Founding,
of all of us.”
Twelve years ago at this time, I was at my sweet sister’s bedside as she lived her way to heaven.
Each year at this time, I am flooded with such an array of feelings and memories. They are gifts and, still, Trudy is teaching me. The first and greatest from that tender time of Rosetears was: Love is eternal. Time has added that Love may possibly be made even stronger by time and absence of physical evidence.
Today’s sweet cardinal appearing just outside my window represents a new freedom, if not command, that I have been given: live the life you have. In some ways, I feel I have finally caught up with my past in a way that I can more fully live my present. I think this is grace.
But, most of all, it’s still and always about Love. And there is always enough to go around.
I wish you well, with love.
Every once in a while there’s a gap.
A craving I cannot name.
An itch I cannot scratch.
I sit,
scrolling on my phone,
searching for books or a new tv series to begin, but, eventually,
and inevitably,
I slip back into a motionless stare that I don’t even recognize until
the stove timer dings, and,
there it is again.
The gap.
The gap between us.
The impermanent curtain hanging between flesh and spirit,
between here and There.
It’ll pass. It always does.
Note: This came out of a moment, or hour?, of staring into the infinite horizon of sky and earth. Initially, I thought I was missing my sister. Of calling her. With no particular need. Just a chat. But, as words came to page, I sensed it is also appropriate for this time of waiting in the season of Lent. Shared with love, and hope too.
I’ve worn these boots to walk the Pecos path for over ten years. Today I thanked and retired them.
It’s fitting that they fell apart on this trip as I also let go of Trudy’s tree – a tree I deemed and decorated as Trudy’s tree on my first visit to Our Lady of Guadalupe Monastery, All Saints Day, October 2012. Imagine my shock when I discovered that someone had cut it down!
Old stories, framed with love, can sometime change and heal us in surprising and miraculous ways.
And sometimes, when we pause and listen with love, we find the difference between your story and our story is simply a why.
Four years ago, Toby showed up as a pretty beaten-up, all-on-his-own little four week old kitten. He almost didn’t make it. I thought I saved him. Turns out… well, many of you know how the healer turns out to be the one needing the healing. Happy birthday, Toby Allen. Happy Friday Love to all.