Trophy in a Postcard

I'm home. Not necessarily where I want to be. This summer, this year really, has brought me still, to remain after so much commotion in a spot I seemed wedged in...
This is the first summer in about 8 years, I believe, that I'm not packing my bags and headed off on some grand adventure. I accepted it, partly because I didn't know what else to do, and partly because I sitting might not be so bad. It might be what I need desperately. Down-time, is something I'm actually relatively good at; its accomplishing things during that down-time that I struggle with. I can watch tons of movies and sprawl myself through the internet, and read and even plan...but actually executing...
I want to be doing, but often I need a jump start. Just sitting and telling myself to get things done doesn't really do the trick; its the motivation from something else that sparks more motivation to move on. I'm sitting here browsing through other friends' and acquiantances' photos, and wanting to be there. I don't even necessarily care where there is, but its somewhere outside my ordinary where things are happening. I get jealous; it may also be a craving or simply discontent, but I can't deny a sense of envy for others' adventures and envolvement. Their summer looks thrilling, and most importantly, successful. They did something.

As much as an answer to prayer my last 3 or 4 months have been, I can't say there is anything to be proud of. And that, ultimately, is what I think I'm struggling with. The fact that its been a whole year since I've been able to hold something up for everyone to see. 

Out, Digging

"In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt." -Margaret Atwood
In the summer, too, and why not be covered in it?

Even with gloves on, my fingernails become black, and I forgo scrapping out the mud and mulch that has accumulated from the hours spent plunging them into the ground. I burn under the sun, get bit by seen and unseen pests, pricked with thrones and jabbed with stubs, my muscles ache and I don't really mind it. 
The time passes with me clearing out entire patches of weeds and runaway plants; I yank things as tall as I and some as small as fingertidp, my ears plugged with music to hum along to or contemplating past and future events, talking to myself or God......

I got an unexpected summer gig, which couldn't have been any bigger of a blessing really. With nowhere to travel to this year (a huge disappointment I'm still struggling with), I was going to be left on my own for five weeks without much to do other than go shopping, apparently. Shopping with money I wouldn't have. So instead, I toil in a surprisingly enjoyable fashion, for a surprisingly generous amount and feel rather accomplished at the day's end. The money, if I'm going to be honest was the primary motivator, and obviously, I wouldn't have taken the offer without it, but the mornings and afternoons have provided unexpected peace as well. The earth, in and of itself, can be calming, reflective, and even healing.

You Know

You know when I rise and when I fall
When I come or go, You see it all
You hung the stars, You move the sea
And still You know me.

via awelltravelledwoman

MESSENGERS

"Do you think the universe fights for souls to be together? Some things are too strange and strong to be coincidences."

People need companionship. Myself, a self-proclaimed loner, doesn't always like to admit this, nonetheless, its the truth. I can hibernate away, even in the stark of summer, but then here comes the need, the desire, for other life. I find rejuvenation in nature, in the view of mountains, fresh air, water, a sunset... yet also in a good conversation. Sometimes I don't even know it, know that I need it, and I find myself in another's presence where things just come together; I think the others needed it, too. On a bit of a whim, Pops and I drove to a different town along the river and ended up perched at some waterfront, biker bar where we downed a couple cold ones and shot the breeze with those doing the same. Just a little, a handful of exchanges and it felt a second wind. Enough to get up and move on.
The next day brought a recollection of a treasured boss over White Castle burgers at the kitchen table after pulling countless weeds out of the soil. An elderly gentleman on his own, often leaving me on my own to work, but ready to tell a story to a willing ear. 
Its these small encounters that I realize I need more often than not, usually forgeting/avoiding  to seek them out. Some come and go, never to be visited again, and others come back or we carry them with us for long enough. 

Cathedrals in My Heart

The days are getting longer, the nights shorter. I can hear the kids outside my window or door dribbling the basketball down the pavement or playing tag across the lawns well past dinner time. I'm staying up later also, somehow feeling like there's more time in my day just as I did when I could run outside with the fireflies when I was young. Like I never have to be AT anything, like no one was necessarily expecting me at any specifice time. Before the heat strikes and seems nearly debilitating, this is a stretch of the year I enjoy. School is coming to a close, a bit of excitement of a schedule/routine change and restrictions being lessened. Though I am feeling a bit regretful as this is the first summer in probably 7 years that I don't have a trip planned. Nothing; no Asia or Europe or Africa or cross-country drive. I'm torn between that urge to get up and go and the relief of just being able to relax yet get some things done. I don't necessarily want to run away anymore....maybe in a sense, but I don't hate going to work. Seriously, I have hated going to work. A lot. And suddenly, I don't hate it so much anymore. Not at all, really. I've been seeing these little blessings, if you will, that have popped up just because I stuck around. Because I stuck it out. There's been a light at the end of the tunnel, if you will, a reward for perservering and however long I stay now, I have that affirmation and satisfaction.

One Small Step, One Giant Leap

He did it. And then jumped into my arms to celebrate. I told myself I was perfectly fine with the notion that he may never do it, not for a long while at least, and understood the anxiety, but I think deep down I wanted him to know he COULD do it if he made up his mind. I wanted him to have a victory. 
We talked about here and there for two weeks. More than two weeks, and he assured me that he had no intention of conquering this fear. "Go ahead, ask the Arch question," he instigated, and answered with a resounding, "No." But then he got in line and took a deep breath because all the other kids were. The tears just started flowing, but he stayed put. 
He was so happy he jumped into my arms at the top. Literally left the ground to hug me in jubilation. 
He even reminded me a day later that he did it, with a an ear to ear smile.I still look at him, nearly 5 years after we met,amazed at his progress and think to myself, "I had something to do with that." Actually, I've been told I had a lot to do with that.


This is my living faith, an active faith, a faith of verbs: to question, explore, experiment, experience, walk, run, dance, play, eat, love, learn, dare, taste, touch, smell, listen, speak, write, read, draw, provoke, emote, scream, sin, repent, cry, kneel, pray, bow, rise, stand, look, laugh, cajole, create, confront, confound, walk back, walk forward, circle, hide, and seek.
- Terry Tempest Williams

Picking Out Stars Between Thumb and Finger

Its a night like this one, when the air is cool and a bit crisp, but still and silent, and the moon peaks over tree limbs while the stars cling to the sky like bugs on a windshield (or like splotches of ink on notebook paper, if the tools were reversed) I may feel most alive. I'm running, my lungs are swelling and sweat is framing my face, but my legs are weightless and spry. This is the feeling of 

possibility and....hope, because you feel powerful and backed by something powerful as well. 

It also makes me think of Africa, where I have felt more alive and...in sync; its something which is immensly difficult to put into words because the feeling is typically at a time or in a moment you weren't necessarily prepared for. My moments are unexpected and sometimes slowly but often instantly, I feel full. If something were missing, I feel like I found it. The stars usually do it, and in Africa the stars were more dazzling than I have ever witnessed. Its a night like this one that feeling comes back along with the remembrance of things that have accompanied it...