Posted August 17, 2007on:
Balance, family, faith, hope, beauty, truth, compassion, creating.
Kisses from my son, can’t wait to hear what my daughter says next, ripe peaches, my mother’s lasagna, scrapbooking, breathlessly tearing through the last pages of a great book, the smell of paper, writing with a good pen. Strawberries. My sweetie cuddling up to my back as we go to sleep. Our eyes meeting over the kids’ heads at something they say. Sharing something funny, sharing life. Watching a delightful movie together. Beautiful, beautiful patterned paper, so many colors. The sound of my children playing together in the next room: “And then pretend you said…” — the way my brother and I used to play. Folk and contra dancing. Quaking aspen leaves, trembling in the breeze. Smelling the kids’ hair. Old photographs. My tuned harp, resonating. Soft crocheted afghan. Long talks with siblings. My daughter singing along with the radio. Savoring a favorite book, again. Threading my sewing machine (so easy! it surprises me every time) and sewing a straight seam. The smell of fresh rosemary. Stained glass windows. Laughing with cousins. Spaces that echo. My dad reading to my daughter. Yoga and t’ai chi. My husband laughing at my wittiness. Getting THE photo. Lolcats, reading blogs, a beautiful poem. Connection. The power of imagination. Coming home to find my sweetie has cleaned the house. Singing, especially those floating high notes, or those heavenly low notes. Perfect unison. Harmony. Radiant differences. Cute clothes for babies and kids. Cool breeze and warm sun. Spring and autumn. Hugging a friend. Mountains. Dancing, that evening in the cultural hall, my infant son in my arms, my daughter and husband skipping around us in circles — could I ever be happier? Flowers. Christmas. Rereading a story I wrote and finding, maybe it’s pretty good. Traditions. Sky. Stars. The moon. Finishing. Starting again. Being grateful. Being present. Love.
Noticing the details.
[from Kerflop. Hmm, I seem to have overlooked the “essay” part. Well, we’ll call it a prose poem and let it go.]
[Okay, one more note. My daughter’s name is a Sanskrit word that means: “that joy without which the universe would fall apart and collapse.” (If you’ve read the right book now you’ll know what it is.) I do believe it, that the universe is based on joy.]
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