stairwell accompaniment:David Gray

This week I realized that I echo sentiments recorded last summer during similar days.

So again, I'm breaking the silence. Wanting to be a better writer and wanting to write more requires what can often be a heavy thought until you actually begin the action: writing.

I sit and try to write and feel as if, today, creativity would require from me the same energy as a triathlon. This summer has taught me much about quieting down. slowing down. sitting down. settling down. Which is to say savoring it all in small moments of previously unconsidered joy and sorrow and surprise and surrender. This summer has taught me much about community and relationships and beign stretched in and out of comfort. being open. a life of availability. giving. taking.
I am obliged thank my God who lives in small moments and big ideas.

I've read only a small selection of books this summer, much less than previous years. Said selecitions have been few but mighty. And weighty. I fall in love with the rediscovery of refuge found in the art of words, language. As tradition holds, our road trips are spent reading to each other and (again)falling in love (again and again)with the beauty of writing, the lost art of reading aloud. You should try it. Imaginations will be fed. You will be left full.

The break from nursing school has helped me realize how soon I will be finished and subsequently out on my own. This is thrilling and yet calls for a few deep breaths. In and out. I've found that nursing, like massage is full of growth and generosity, giving and receiving, falling and rising again.

this summer i loved:
walking in the neighborhood. the hostel our home has become. reading more than I write. listening more than I talked. dreaming far ahead and flexibly. making decisions that cause our future to to be nearly present. our evolving marriage. camping in crowded tents. salmon and mashed sweet potatoes. photography. running with a goal(literally). growing vegetables on the porch. sleeping in. ignoring the pleasantries. eating corn off the cob. watching friends come and go. crickets. true spirituality in all its simple complexity.