Up here in the mountains of northern New Mexico, in an ancient village that has gone through more than its share of hardships, whose suffering would put mine to shame, two friends spent a day celebrating what it is to live.
… and standing in the middle of that street, with no traffic, in the midst of all those abandoned buildings, the mercantile and houses, it was so quiet… It was almost as if I was sensing the silent footprints of a world now out of fashion.
It’s a wonder, right there for the taking, every single day, whether it be a kitchen table, a studio, a pasture, neighboring horses, the snores of contented and safe animals, someone we love, a finished painting, a painting in progress, the sun rising, the sun setting…
So, since you are my friends, a part of my family really, I’ve missed you. And although I had little to say, I wanted to share it with you anyway. And to wish you all a very happy Thanksgiving. We do, each and every one of us, have so much to be grateful for, don’t we?
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.
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)…