I try to think back to other times when it felt like things in life got shaken up--and did I always nest? Did I always hunker down and gather my chicks near to me? A protective huddle.
This summer knocked the wind completely out of my sails for sure.
The yard kicked my butt.
Adding Lanie's workload onto an already demanding course load kicked my butt.
A kid's sickness kicked my butt.
A kid's diagnosis and lifestyle change kicked my butt.
Any of these things alone would keep me busy. But all of it together = crack.
I barely got together with friends in June or July, and when I did, I wasn't completely there.
I'm so thankful that August brought some relief. That I could see some friends and enjoy their company and feel like I could actually relax. (and I whisper this because--are there those who don't want my load lightened? Does an enemy wait to catch and condemn me?)
Yesterday and today--out in the front garden trying to keep up with the tree suckers and weeds, battling mosquitos. This week, a co-op orientation. And maybe a friend to swim. But that's it.
I'm painting shelves and typing lessons and readingreadingreadingreading and cooking.
"Are you busy this week?" a friend asked.
And even though so much of this summer was glimpsed over the top of a book, I'm still hunkering down. Three weeks left until school starts. I pull at time and tuck it under my wing to keep it close.
I feel like quieting--the somber silence before the ruckus and rush and soar.
This song comes on, and I dance in the kitchen. Erin sits at the table as I slice up watermelon into two bowls.
Lanie comes down and asks me, "Have you ever gotten spiritual chills?"
It's (your) perfect love that sees us soar.
This is living now.