First day of school |
Now don't get me wrong - I love my children with an intensity all mothers understand. Being in their presence brings joy to my soul and wonder to my world... most of the time. I would be lying if I said I never longed to sip my tea in quiet, never desired a moment to work uninterrupted by my sweet babies' need for attention (babies? To me, always. But my oh my are they getting big now. I look at the sleek lines of my son's face, more and more chiseled as is his father's, and I wonder where those plump baby cheeks ran off to.) Having time to myself a few mornings a week gives me the opportunity to do something for myself, to renew and rebalance, or at least just go grocery shopping in peace.
Which brings me back to this cafe and this cup of tea, almost gone. Here I sit, myself and my words, and is it to unhumble to say that I am inspiring myself? It has been a long, long time since I sat to write. Since June 28, apparently, which was when I wrote my last post. And in that post, I believe I said this:
"I think about possible posts and how one day I would like to write them. I think every day, I will sit down and write. But I don't. How can I, when there is so much to do? Since the Solstice [summer], however, my Self has cried out to myself: write! Woman, write. Even if they are not the detailed essays I sometimes produce, I must share this channel of my soul. So yes, I will try to keep posting. Even if they come slowly, slowly they will come."
It has been almost three months since I wrote those words. The story that now appears with each tap of my fingertips is indeed slow to come. In fact, I wasn't even sure if there would be another story - I was beginning to think that life was too full to fit in the writing of a blog. But now, my tea is gone. If I swirl the dredges in the bottom of my cup, will it show me my future? Will it reflect back to me the desires of my soul, the satisfaction and pure joy I feel at this moment, in this cafe, with my cup of empty tea, as the words find form where once it was blank? Is it arrogant of me to admit that when I read my last two posts, they brought tears to my eyes? I can admit this because I know the words are not solely mine, and I give credit where credit is due: when I enter into this space of writing, I am but a conduit through which Spirit may flow. I will keep writing this blog, I know this now for certain. My eyes fill with tears because the words connect me to the Divine source within.
Anthony, my husband, loves to watch Youtube videos of American Idol and X Factor, shows that offer common people with uncommon musical talents a chance at making it big. When Anthony finds a really good one, he shares it with me. I love watching people who look quite ordinary, who are nervous and unsure in front of thousands of viewers, transform into exquisite beauty as they share their fabulous gifts. When these people sing, it is pure Spirit shining through. And that is the beauty of everyone's talent, wherever it may lie. Those places where we shine are portals for divinity to enter this earth. None of us are ordinary - we are all beautiful and complicated beings of creation, each with our own unique expression. I will keep writing this blog, for this is my forum to shine extraordinarily. This is where I speak with my Spirit voice.
(P.S. if you have never watched X Factor, or even if you have, please watch this video. This woman brought shivers to my arms and tears to my eyes. She is simply and beautifully amazing.)
As often happens with my writing, this post has turned out to be completely different from what I had originally planned. I had planned to ease back into this blog with a post about the garden, the beautiful, vivacious, overflowing garden. Hence the title of this post: abundance. This is such an abundant time of year, it cannot even be contained. Our entryway is filled with boxes and baskets: potatoes and onions, plums and pears, drying sunflowers and garlic braids. The refrigerator is filled with zucchini, beans, corn, cucumbers, and pickled cabbage, the freezer with frozen berries and harvested chickens. I rearrange baskets of eggs and bowls of tomatoes to make room at the table. And this is only what we have stored in the house: the garden still grows as if hoarding for a famine. The summer crops continue to produce, while the fall crops of kale, chard, cabbage, broccoli, carrots, beets, winter squash, and brussels sprouts will continue to feed us through the end of the year. As I try to manage the blessings of this abundance, I gently transform overwhelming feelings into gratitude.
Feeling overwhelmed is a common occurrence for me. Back at the Winter Solstice, when I could barely contain the exhausted and panicked feelings within me, I pledged to release the experience of being overwhelmed. But releasing patterns as engrained as those does not happen overnight. I release them, only to feel overwhelmed again. But each time I get better, each time I find it easier to let go of the story of what I *need*/*should* be doing and focus instead on experiencing that which my soul desires. Exhale and release, inhale and welcome my blessings. Exhale and ground my energy into the earth, inhale and embrace gratitude. Exhale unrealistic expectations, inhale the beauty of the present.
The gift of life is the gift of creating our own experiences. In every moment we have the opportunity of choice - perhaps we cannot choose the exact circumstances of our experiences, but we have absolute choice as to how we respond. Every moment is an opportunity for us to choose the expression of our Highest Self [and I repeat, go watch Sam Bailey sing her heart out].
Abundance, gratitude, love. This is what I choose to experience.
*Blessings*
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