I think there was something following me in the race that finally caught up with me.
As always, I feel so fortunate to have all of you out there and all the goodies in my home when times like this come. Your comments are keeping me smiling.
I've given myself some time to finally delve into a book I've been yearning to read for quite some time:
(By the way, Karen is offering a giveaway of her book over at Shutter Sisters - go here before midnight tonight (Thursday)). I plan on buying a second copy...as with Momma Zen, I feel the need to share the love. Possibly a giveaway here? Hmm. More on that later.)
It's odd - as excited as I was about reading this book, I am just now getting to it. I know part of it is attachment to the excitement, the "what if's", the "Coming Soon!"...all that disappears as I turn each page and as the words sink in. But I also knew that the text would ooze into my being (as did those from "Momma Zen", also by Karen Maezen Miller) and provide a big boost for an ongoing transformation. That's always a bit scary.
And I wasn't mistaken.
Ah, to be under-the-weather, yearning to complete art projects that pile around me, aching to feel the strength in my legs during a run, caught in the life that escapes me when I'm otherwise occupied...and being transformed. With every word I read, I realize there is no where else I'd want to be.
Allow me to share some of the things that have spilled out into my journal:
How I do one thing is how I do everything. I can toss the clean dish in the cabinet...not exactly placing it where it belongs. I can vacuum & conveniently go around the couch.
But the dish will still be precariously lopsided & the dust and toys still underneath the couch.
Likewise, I can blog just to write and toss something up there. I can do my workouts and yoga and meditation and conveniently skip the long runs or challenging asanas or give up when my mind won't settle down.
But the words hang precariously over my mind and yours and the true benefits of moving my body and settling my mind still remain hidden.
How I do my yoga is how I do the cleaning is how I do my art is how I live my life.
Life has continued after the mini marathon even though our minds may not have wrapped themselves around that. The stillness that is left from not yearning towards that goal is a delicious space to be in. Life is going on.
We made banana bread. (Thanks to hubby's suggestion and bananas that had oddly gone un-eaten)
I found the love bus during a chat with lovely ladies led by the fascinating Connie.
I've found I like doodling faces with pencil. It's something I can do right before bed - a practice that lets the creative spirit flow in and out simultaneously. A deep breathing exercise.
I have gotten out and noticed the expanse and simultaneous quiet history in places I've visited my entire life...and how my awareness changes nothing and everything.
I have noticed how awareness is all it takes to appreciate the fragrant fire in the flower I pass by while chasing the kids.
I am in a very odd place of wanting to grasp all that is but
knowing that the grasping will make it disappear faster.
So I sit grasping only my tissue box beside me, forgoing deep thought and resolution, hoping just a little that cradling that box will make the need for the tissues drain faster than my nose.
Lest I leave you with that image, however, please take this from this post: Visit Karen's site. Read her book.
Then run, create, do the laundry, the dishes, your job, sleep, eat...let's see if we can breathe into this crazy simplicity together.