Sunday, November 28, 2010
Wonder~The lovely process
Have you ever? I've never made bread, like this. It's cooling on a rack. I hope it tastes good- my house smells divine-bread bakery smell. It's taken me three days to make. I didn't read the recipe directions through before I started making it- I had no idea it would take three days. I started on Friday with the ferment, Saturday for rising and folding, salt water and more rising, Sunday to cook. It's been a process- bread is a lovely process. It shouldn't be rushed, it needs time to develop. You have to be present in the process. I really enjoy learning how to make things from scractch, especially taking time for the process and finding appreciation for the fruits of the Earth that provide such beautiful ingredients to meld and savor. It makes me happy to my soul to be learning how to cultivate with my hands.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Growth~Feeling a little hidden among the changing shadows
Today after two days of rain without a glimpse of sunlight and after the day gives over to night without so much as a sign its closing I begin to waver. I went for rainy walks with Korlyn- her covered in warm layers and I drenched in the goodness of Fall rain. I listened to music and found every color in the fallen leaves- piercing colors against the rain-painted jet black of the cement walking trail. I gave thanks for everything drenched in dreary and took a deep breath of midst. Yet, I just want to sleep. And as I lay on my bed after fixing dinner, tears in my eyes, as daylight as left me feeling vulnerable in the grip of midnight at 5:00 my three come charging in- drawings in hand. Cole says hers is scribble. I tell him that is how she expresses herself through drawing at this age and his used to look somewhat like hers when he was two. He shows me his detailed drawing of a dragon with colors "in a pattern" and tells me that his has always looked liked what he shows me now. I guess we are both correct. Who knows what she was drawing, but I know she must have had a perfect vision for it. So with warm tears and a fatigued spirit J asks me whats wrong- and I think for the first time, I blatantly admit that the change from Fall to Winter throws me into moody sadness; I sigh in his hug and feel peaceful with my admittance. I go to sleep at 8:00- I've spent years resisting how susceptible I am to shifts of whatever kind- weather, moods, time, permanence- empathic. On the verge of my next birth year I find myself resisting myself less and less. And it feels peaceful.
My heart the other day in church felt wide open- i could feel the warmth of spreading possibility deep inside and it felt fantastic. Like delicate layers of tissue paper folded gently open and the energy surrounding my heart felt warm and unblocked- like it can often when I worry. I felt on the verge of everything again; except this time it was welcomed with much more hope.
Today the sun came.
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