the other day i marveled at how easy everything was–
a check to replace my car from the insurance,
healing progress after a serious injury,
life so smooth from the help of my family, lover, and best friend.
teddy’s dad back again, no sweat. who knew.
here i am,
praying to dig deeper here,
to root in
for brighter blooms,
and all of that spiritual harvest we speak of–
my busted ankle finally
got the best of me, my bright bucket of optimism finally overflowing and spilling on the floor.
and i was too lazy or indifferent to clean it up–
all i want to do is go outside run til’ my lungs ache with cold air///
our main source of well-being comes from daily nature walks: turning over logs and sniffing strands of lichen/ saying hi to the alley cats.
i go and balance myself on the porch, feasting on the blue and moody skies, thinking of the violets popping up and the little plum blossoms that no longer shock me to see in january.
yesterday was the first time i “walked” from the house; we went to the library at the end of the block for a new source of entertainment: stacks of free and glorious books.
i yelled at my boys, disappointed in myself– falling so short of the parent i want to be—
here i am:
with a boy who loves to wear a turtle neck and reads constantly–
and another one who just
drew a map of California on his leg with a pen and is always singing “elenor rigby”
and this is enough.
it is more than enough.
and i’ll patch the holes in my heart with sunshine and deep breathing–
remembering that i am whole.
totally and completely whole.