A DYING YEAR

I am searching through old words hoping to find a little light kick to help guide the formation of new words to wrap up an unruly year that won’t be contained by the confines of this page.

It’s like trying to fit a giant constellation of stars (including a full moon and solar system plus a few prickly cacti because I love them so) into a tiny pocket and walking around like nothing is happening and nothing has changed but we all know that everything IS change and is ALWAYS changing.

The light cannot be contained and sometimes life really hurts, sometimes the world is unbelievably beautiful and, well, of course it’s possible hold up half the sky.

I’ve briefly lost count of the days on the road and there are moments when I think I’m losing myself but I know that this is what happens as found makes a home of their own.

However these last minutes and hours of this dying year find you, I hope with my whole multidimensional heart (and teeny pockets spilling open with stars) that we are all able to gift ourselves a moment to feel the feelings about how this second pandemic year made us who are.

About how it changed us and the world we live in.

Thank the ones who had to leave before we were ready to let them go.

Speak the tears.

Count the blessings.

Remember the heart-aches and the heart-makes.

They all come from the same place and now (more than ever) as we grow into a future we have not yet met, we’ve all still gotta keep loving with all we’ve got.