Restless

Hay thrown in the air, waiting to see what comes down. Pot stirred. Apple cart tipped. Disorganized, chaotic. Again, and again, and again. It’s been an interesting year. Sitting very still in the middle of volatile times, watching everybody justify what they need to, and it’s a terrible mess. When it’s not burying us in … Continue reading Restless

Trappings

I look through my closet, and I see the clothes I own. There are about five shirts, and a few skirts, and some shorts that I love. Blue, black, grey–always comfortable. I appreciate the rest; I hesitate to choose them. They are there for the days I try on something else. I am in the garden, … Continue reading Trappings

Twirling

I am sitting in front of five piles. One is the books, articles, and journaling for my pursuit of TRE Certification. One is the books, articles, notes, and lesson plans for my volunteer work at one of our two high schools, to teach educators how to work with children in fight/flight/freeze, with or without trauma, … Continue reading Twirling

Transmutation

Between carrying things that weigh you down, which, by the way, you didn’t even know you were carrying until one horrid moment of illuminating insight, and the act of setting them gently down on the ground, there is confusion. How did this happen? Between setting them down, and feeling relief, there is gravity. Decomposing. Folding … Continue reading Transmutation

Drive Deep

I fed the chickens. I give them the purslane, and I hide scratch in the big jumbled mess of lusciousness and wet dirt. It gives them something to do, because backyard chickens are in an artificial habitat–not a farm, in other words. They get bored. They peck on one another. Wait, do you hear a … Continue reading Drive Deep

Showing

Maybe she’s not showing off. Maybe she just showed up–exactly the way she is, with no care to prune herself back for you, or anyone. Because that would be a show. Leave her alone. She deserves to fill the exact space she naturally inhabits, however much that may be, no more and no less. She … Continue reading Showing

Lightness

I am made mostly of secrets. Childhood, mine and others. Poured into a strong foundation. I listened, and they filled a place I didn’t understand. A beacon, my husband says. A hearth. It feels good to be the hearth? No, it never felt good; it just was. A duty, yes, that feels true. Cradled in … Continue reading Lightness