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mud, snow and hope

snow mud hopeI roam the paths in each season and look for hope. It’s what I do-look for hope in change. Some days/seasons are easier than others. Remember when the tree was so vibrant and then the leaves began unattaching, falling and changing resting spots as the wind blew?. And I admit I was tempted like all the rest to see this as a loss. But when the leaf was almost dust, a lacy intricate shell, I found this change almost magical. I could see the hope in change.

And I do believe that Hope is worthy.

But today the path is only muddy, a mixture of snowmelt and dirt. The leaves that turned from vibrant color to the browny dust, is now diluted, being taken somewhere else, far from me it seems. Maybe it fills a little crevice in the rock? Maybe it finds the perfect resting spot? For all these reasons, I try to imagine.

I imagine because Hope is worthy.

I know in time I will see new growth appear when I gaze up to the sky. I will see green and not gray… but is it ok to feel the sadness of longing? Maybe feeling something gives this change the dignity it deserves?

I hope so. Hope is worthy.

My autumn hikes changed me. And frankly, I feel almost ruined by it now.  Oh, I know the winter stillness has it’s own lessons to teach, and I will eventually get into my seat and listen to the instructions, but I’m rebelling today, just standing in the back of the classroom with my arms crossed, daring the teacher to try. I miss my former teacher.

But deep down I know that Hope is worthy.

Maybe change holds up a mirror and shows us what love does to a soul? One taste and we are forever seeking just one more moment of cherishing and being cherished; one more moment where nothing else matters; one more collision of peace and ecstasy. And even though remembering stings and reminds me of something past, I choose to remember. I think to myself “to fight is to hope”. And…

Hope is worthy.

 

 

 

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It’s winter after all

Glowing Candle Demo by Susan Blackwood e-mailAnd so the day winds down…the dishwasher runs and banana bread is finishing in the oven, filling the house with the aroma of winter. The lights are dim and lamps glow just like candles on a cold night long ago. Timeless. I can hear voices of family chattering in the other room. Soothing, melodic…beautiful. It seems exactly like it should. I’m rocking in a rocking chair that I purchased today.  Grand baby Moses is coming Wednesday night and Grammy must be ready. 🙂

I opened the computer and read some poetry.  I come across the line- “there is no house like the house of belonging.” I’m thinking on these words by David Whyte and decide they are trueSo, so true!.

Don’t you think “words” and “winter” seem like kindred spirits? ‘It looks right to see them holding hands, giving knowing glances across the room. The dark and cold are accentuated by the warmth and glow in the winter house. The words becoming the fire we need. Truthfully,  I’m not sure we would ever choose winter.  We think of the trouble, the cold, the need for heating, the closed doors and windows to keep us safe from the elements. We’re too pragmatic. We would ask for a balmy 70 degree day year-round, But there is a knowing in our depths; a knowing that the seasons bring with it exactly what we need. A longing.  We need to long. We need the anticipation.

I think we need the warmth of words and the excuse to sit in rocking chairs, snacking on banana bread. It’s winter after all.