Then, time with my own pages, edits, notes, ponderings.
A fire crackles in the potbelly. The coffee softens my lips.
So much silence fills this place today, and I am bounded by grateful.
Last week, I lost a job, a job I needed to lose. One I should have quit long ago because of dysfunction and stress and the prickling edge of knowing that I was not in the right place at the right time.
Still, there in that wrong place, I found a dear friend, a colleague, another artist with whom I connect and find hope. He is in the process of redesigning this very website, and I am pittering with excitement to see his vision.
So there, even in the hard places, we find gifts. . .
Today has begun slow and quiet because I don’t have the frenzy of that work to address, because I have chosen – here in the vast snowiness of a new year – to let myself be here, now.
I take the time to go out and throw more hay down for the chickens so they can scratch and so Fern, the mouthy hen, doesn’t get cold feet. I spend a few minutes on the antique sofa Philip’s parents have given us and watch Boone, the big dog of Sunday’s adventure, look askance as Sabeen the kitten turns him into a big bed.
I witness the first chapter of my book and decorate it with arrows and words, those things we call edits but I want to call art.
It’s good here in this stiller space. A little scary but good. Silent, rich, deep.
What is good for you today?
Congratulations to Laura Baker. She was randomly chosen to win the $20 Powell’s Gift Certificate from Sunday’s post.