It is Christmas day, 12:18 pacific standard time. I sit alone in my living room. Which is 'living ' in full bloom at the moment. The fireplace is blazing a real wood fire and the sweet scent of our Douglas Fir Christmas tree permeates the air. And is enhanced my the warmth of the crackling fire. Stockings are hanging and beautiful blinking lights like twinkling stars are everywhere.
Its times like this I miss a proper winter with the snow. The pull towards relaxing, reflecting and hibernating appeals to me so. It has been a long and difficult year. I am grateful for the gifts that presently appear to be happening in the future. And in the present.
I am grateful for the way my perspective seems to be transitioning. Not easy to put into words. But I knew I needed to write....its been SO long, too long. Then it occurred to me, I was not going to write. IT was gonna write me. This feels so much more free when I remember it is not "me", "I", the ego, the mind, whatever. But I am simply the vehicle.
It Is a life force flowing through. And my job is to be self aware enough to get OUT of the way as the flow of this magical life takes me perfectly where I need to go. OR be. Which is always WHERE I AM. Like it or not, wherever we are is perfect.
We all feel more seemingly alive in the drama of all this suffering but approaching 50, on Feb 1.....I for one and exhausted. I want to truly learn to extract the true joy of the moment. The closet I come is in moments with my Myles,21. And with Christian, 7. Children are truly, I say time and time again, the beauty of the world.
The innocence and intimacy and pure deep love and respect (which is essential) that I have had the gift of experiencing with my two sons, has-is-and continues to be unparalleled. I feel safe to give them everything, all of me....it is a strange thing.
I want to be writing more often..........xxxooo