Gah. What the what. Fourth Saturday in March 2018, what?
Where do my wonderful intentions disappear to? I’m thinking I really had no idea how long it would take for me to rest, reground and recenter. And although I am a big believer in Mary Oliver’s adage, “things take the time they take” there’s a part of my brain that retains illusions and fantasies with regard to what it takes to be a human being.
When it comes to living as a human being– my evolution lands somewhere between a garden snail and a kangaroo which, as we all know, is the only totally nutter of a large animal that relies solely on hopping as a mode of transportation–wait! are kangaroos just really big bunnies? I never thought of that before . . . but before I get too far off in the thicket, what I was trying to say is that my forward progress is often hampered by my erratic nature — wait — actually, that aligns even better with the spirit animal whose energy has been central to my life these past four months: the butterfly.
Since this lovely book by Nathalie Lete landed in my hands last December (thank you, Tif!), this image has been up on my shelf as a reminder to allow for deep, extended cocooning. Things take the time they take — cocoons are no exception — and I have continued to dial in my life here, but the thing is: winter.
Yeah. I am more clear than ever that I do not function well during the extended cold and snow of New England winters– and people, I really can’t complain since Rhode Isand is in the southern part of this region– and still, I am done. I tested my theory out by spending a week on Bermuda in January and a week in San Diego in February and the verdict is clear– I am a world of a different person when I am living in 70 F temps– and I LIKE the person I am in that climate. The issue currently is, neither Southern California (which is hella gorgeous geographically, but alas, suffers from too much commercialization) nor Bermuda (sweet, but roads too narrow and am, at heart, not an island girl) were a fit for me long term.
I feel like the mama mallard in Make Way for Ducklings trying to find her perfect nest.
I know that I will find it– so that November – April I can be elsewhere, but the right place has yet to be revealed. Meantime, Spring is winding her way over to us. Tulips are pushing up. Forsythia, crocuses and snow drops are popping. So, for now, I have made it through another winter and can focus my attention elsewhere. My studio has been reconfigured to allow me to do some deep diving into both writing and art making. I am keen to see where that all takes me.
I dream of someday walking the Camino, but for now, walking the hood with my sweet Oliver is the path I am on.
And speaking of dogs, the reason I sat down to try and find my way back into this blog space was to write a giant THANK you. Thursday, Oliver went in for some surgery and had a tumor taken off his tail. I was a big drama queen about it (despite the fact that it was day surgery, a tail and everything is fine) and SO many lovely, lovely, LOVELY, kind and caring and LOVELY people took time to send me love and caring energy and it just blew my mind. It really did.
I think it is just simply amazing how much love is out there to tap into. So, THANK YOU for reaching out and reminding me of that wildly beautiful life force and keeping me hooked up to it. I am forever grateful. Love will blast through any storm– winter or otherwise– and you all have helped me to remember:
Here inside of me is a force that makes its own weather,
winning through thickest clouds to the shining sun.
– from John Brierly’s Camino Guide
Lastly, huge shout out to my spirit sister Suz who burned the midnight oil last night from her nest in Paris so that we could talk for hours. There is no greater tonic in life than spending time with someone who gets you, sees you, listens to your rambles with zero judgement and feeds your creative soul.
more soonest.
be good to you–
bisous, xo
*Remember she was dreaming of a life in California all those years ago? Well, she did it!
Tu me manquais… thanks for pulling me out of the grubby little hole I’d dug for myself since the dark stuff that went down at the holidays, and the Working Girl grind I’d thrown myself into since the New Year. (Might 80s shoulder pads have helped me feel that I was more effectively, bad-assedly, #girlbossing? I couldn’t quite think what to do, other than to white-knuckle my days.)
I never even saw your response to my last missive… I guess I’d put you down for too busy to have been registering it really, but you were in my thoughts. I think I’ll be able to blog again tomorrow. I owe you a letter, and I owe myself a little time spent in that sweet safe spot where je me confie en toi. Thank you, thank you for the narrative lifejacket. As always.
xxoxoxoxoxo
oh no!– you never even saw my response– I’m telling you there was a gremlin in our communication lines this winter!! SO glad we got him gone– 🙂
I am so happy to see you here again! It is always such a gift! I am also glad to hear that Ollie is just fine. There is nothing worse than worrying about a loved one…and your dogs have been loved from afar all along. Your trips sound amazing, as does the loose plan of finding the perfect place to winter. Migration suits you. I hope “soonest” means something like soon, I adore your writing especially the “you” in there. xoxoxo
oh Megsie– how you ROCK my world!!! you have no idea! Stay warm out there in all that snow– Spring is on her way 🙂