… listening to birdsong as I hang out the laundry (the larks are back and nesting, mapping out their territories in song, so it is particularly splendid right now), the toads croaking their hearts out in the little acequia that runs through my land…
I recognized the important shift: I am taking care of myself! The extra bits that aren’t absolutely necessary–the things I’d supposed took too much time or money, or both, the things I was not worthy of, I was doing for myself in the simple act of hanging my sheets out to dry.
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.