It’s really too late now to say goodbye to 2010. The new year has washed in on its new year wave and is already pulling me out to the sea of the “now” and “next steps;” a powerful undertow which, I’ve got to admit in the first week of 2011, raises my heart rate and puts me face to face with my suitability for swimming in fast-moving waters. Time does not slow down. The requirements of daily life, work, and love do not diminish.
Goodbye anyway to a year rocked by cataclysmic world events, extreme weather, bedbugs, disease, downturns and downsizing. Goodbye.
Goodbye and thanks for last year’s lucky breaks—the ones I was fortunate to get from some of that stuff. On peaceful hillsides in Umbria, watching gorgeous dark-haired kids kick soccer balls around in Todi, or a world cup match while eating gelato in the tiny town square of Grutti, Italy. The High Sierras. I tell you; listening to young people singing in the mountains does something to erase the jadedness of any soul. If one of them happens to be your young person –all the better! I don’t ever want to say goodbye to the light our children bring to this world. Or the light of a desert sunrise in Tucson, Arizona. Or the light I read by at night.
For someone who preaches the gospel of slowing down, but who has a hard time taking her own advice, I’m grateful to the instincts and friends that called me out to play more last year. Dancing at the Lotus Music Fest, toasting a storm rolling in out at our friend’s farm west of town during a long summer drought. I say bye-bye to some of the particular joys embedded in that play. But HELLO! Let’s welcome more of this in the coming year.
To the women I walk with most mornings in all weathers, the people I write with regularly, the stories which feed my stories and my keen delight in being alive on this crazy planet, last year was pretty great, I have no reason to think the next will be any less grand.
Goodbye and thanks for a peaceful personal year, in a series of years, I’m sure, in which our family unit morphs and we adapt to changing configurations and prepare for the next phase of the nest emptying.
Hello to what emerges each day, to keeping my eye on the questions that drive me, the creative force that keeps me curious.
Hello to every goodbye and new greeting in the daily turning of the world.
BLR for the Poplar Grove Muse
Goodbye anyway to a year rocked by cataclysmic world events, extreme weather, bedbugs, disease, downturns and downsizing. Goodbye.
Goodbye and thanks for last year’s lucky breaks—the ones I was fortunate to get from some of that stuff. On peaceful hillsides in Umbria, watching gorgeous dark-haired kids kick soccer balls around in Todi, or a world cup match while eating gelato in the tiny town square of Grutti, Italy. The High Sierras. I tell you; listening to young people singing in the mountains does something to erase the jadedness of any soul. If one of them happens to be your young person –all the better! I don’t ever want to say goodbye to the light our children bring to this world. Or the light of a desert sunrise in Tucson, Arizona. Or the light I read by at night.
For someone who preaches the gospel of slowing down, but who has a hard time taking her own advice, I’m grateful to the instincts and friends that called me out to play more last year. Dancing at the Lotus Music Fest, toasting a storm rolling in out at our friend’s farm west of town during a long summer drought. I say bye-bye to some of the particular joys embedded in that play. But HELLO! Let’s welcome more of this in the coming year.To the women I walk with most mornings in all weathers, the people I write with regularly, the stories which feed my stories and my keen delight in being alive on this crazy planet, last year was pretty great, I have no reason to think the next will be any less grand.
Goodbye and thanks for a peaceful personal year, in a series of years, I’m sure, in which our family unit morphs and we adapt to changing configurations and prepare for the next phase of the nest emptying.
Hello to what emerges each day, to keeping my eye on the questions that drive me, the creative force that keeps me curious.
Hello to every goodbye and new greeting in the daily turning of the world.
BLR for the Poplar Grove Muse
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