It's Time
It’s been a long time since I have written here – 16 months to be exact. My most recent blog post, the 128th, was shared on August 2, 2023. I had written my first blog post on March 17, 2015. That’s a long streak - 8 years of distilling my noticings, wonderings, and questions into shareable nuggets in the hope that my words might invite someone, anyone, to pay more attention to the noticings, wonderings, and questions in their own lives. Paying attention, being fully present in this life I get to live, is part of how I make meaning of this wild and crazy ride.
I have missed this practice. I have missed you. I hope you are still out there to catch this seed I am releasing to the cyber winds. I am a little nervous about stepping back in. I am not sure I can do this. Do I have anything useful to say today? Will I have anything to say next week? I don’t know. But I know I must try.
It’s time to start writing something besides grocery lists, to-do lists, emails, grant proposals, and newsletter letters. Writing for the joy of it and writing to share with you, helps to train my eyes and ears to the beautiful and bizarre that lies within and beneath the steady drumbeat of daily life. It conditions me to bear witness to both splendor and difficulty, the cacophony of living and dying that is everywhere always.
It is time to begin anew. We just passed Imbolc in the Celtic cycle of the year. This is the halfway point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. Imagine the seeds buried deep within the earth quickening, turning ever so slightly in response to the increasing light.
Seeds of hope and possibility buried deep within me are quickening too. This post feels like a slight turn toward the light for me, an orientation towards the possibility of growth and new life. Imbolc marks the beginnings of beginnings.
It’s time to recognize the many ways that my time and attention have gotten away from me, dispersed by national conversations and worldly concerns that are both disturbing and magnetic.
It’s time to bring my attention and energy back to what is within an arm's length. As human rights and earth care are under siege close to home, I am leaning into the good work that is mine to do:
Noticing what is whole, good, and beautiful.
Noticing what is threatening, hurting, and broken.
Advocating for healing and wholeness for the earth and all of her beings.
Nurturing family and community.
Resting when I need rest.
Tending my people, my place, and my purpose.
Honoring the sacred in All That Is.