It was something I could believe in back when I didn’t know enough to believe in myself–when I didn’t know that I am, in fact, that woman (as so many of us are) who found it within herself to recreate a life, one with meaning and purpose, by herself and for herself.
So to all of us I wish for a letting go of what no longer serves and an embrace of the unexpected, whether it seems good or bad in the moment. And I’ll take it one further: here’s to shingles, the gift I thought I didn’t want, the bit of real life that brought me back to who I am.
On this Christmas Eve, during a holiday season that can bring all sentiments to the fore, may we be gentle with each other and with ourselves. My particular Christmas wish is for an acceptance of our humanness, for our own flaws and mistakes, our missteps and misjudgments.
I live a privileged life up here on the mountain, one made up of many diverse and beautiful experiences: quiet solitude within nature, good friends, good food and good dogs (oh, and yes, I must include the cats if I know what’s good for me)…
I have always felt safe in this vast solitude, living in pastureland cut from the old juniper and pinon forests long ago, out here among the coyotes and other wild things. Perhaps it’s offered something soothing to my own wild nature… On those pitch-black nights when there is no moon, with only the stars offering any sense of proportion, all of my nervous awkwardness falls away because I know who I am in those moments.
There was something extra special about the market yesterday. Companionably cold and crisp, everyone was bundled up against this new nip in the air.
This brings up the OTHER side of living our truths: making room for others to live theirs. It can mean letting go of how we want them to be. But if we love, we must allow our loved ones to be who they were born to be—even if that makes us uncomfortable…