We’re back from our sunny sabbatical in Florida. Rejuvenated from being unplugged. Awed by the vibrant green of the grass. Relieved that Derek Chauvin was found guilty on all counts.
While away, I made space for “doing nothing.” This is actually doing something, though it feels like (unproductive) doing nothing. I watched and listened to nature. I paused and felt my breath. I experienced (savored!) the warmth, wind, and waves.
This space allowed for ease and it also opened my heart to grief. I realized how much protection I’d placed around my heart during this year of pandemic. I kept saying “I’m okay” (which I was, at a bare-bones level), but underneath there’s tenderness, vulnerability, and loss. The first week away, I cried and cried (when did I last have a good sob?). The tears were intermixed with great presence and joy and laughter.
This photograph shows the “weeds” of Florida. Some yards had big patches of these flowers, and at sunset they sang like a beautiful choir. I love the messy beauty of this image. The illuminated flowers are flung about. It’s not tidy. Just like life. Our wondrous, complicated lives are filled with grief and joy, stress and ease, violence and (long-awaited) justice.
May we all be free from fear.
May we be peaceful.
May we embody love and belonging.
May we live with ease and begin to heal.
