This month has become one of my favorites. The colors are a muted shadow of the colors of spring. The air is crisp, the light is rosy. The evenings smell of blackberries and the harvest moon sneaks through the trees. The sun rises with me now. The day opens as I do so I am ready for stark light when it comes. September is gentle to me.
This morning I am delighted by a few more rose buds in the window, and a woodpecker eating at the bird feeder there. I’m still nervous from walking Finn down the street to the bus stop. I have so many emotions, mostly of my own memories. He is nothing like I was. I remember being so frightened by the big world at the other end of the bus portal. He is thrilled. Either way it sniffs of adventure.
I’m feeding Harry next to a kitchen with every available space covered in dirty dishes. Oliver is crying because he has gone three days now watching Finn and all the other children leave. I have no plans to be productive or look cute or go anywhere today. Those are usually the best days because the lack of stress enables me to do all of the above with ease. I’m discovering, in many different ways, that being kind to myself is how I ought to live. Saying no when I feel threatened by too much social activity, allowing myself to have a messy house/hair/dinner/schedule, giving myself easy goals…it all ends up creating more beauty, better friendships, and grander accomplishments. Being gentle to myself so I am ready for the stark light. It’s a paradox. I never realized how incredibly hard I am to me. Unattainable goals and then misery and guilt when I can’t attain them. I need time, silence, escape. Discovery.
May this weekend open gently for you. Magically, secretly, thrillingly. And when the stark light comes may you bravely and strongly accept it.