On my hands and knees, I plant my palms in the earth and with my fingertips break up clumps of dirt - back and forth until big chunks become fine grain. Head down, heart open, this is my idea of feeling something exquisite. Side by side, I watch seeds and bulbs begin to spring forth, beautiful growth mirrored back to me, while Sully and his pal play "house" in a fort and a very busy robin flies back and forth collecting bits and pieces for her nest, eyes on us.
This week marks my fourth week in the studio on the mat. In our poses we focused on resetting our intentions. Allowing old dirt to exhale away like grey smoke and allow new purpose to come in on the inhale. We worked to create space for light and all that newness to move in. This practice is humbling. I am so grateful to have found my way back.
As if warmth and gardening and spring awakening is not enough for one week, I walked each of my boys just before bedtime to the top of our staircase where we have a big window. I simply picked them up one at a time and held them up to the beautiful view of dusky sky. What do you see? I asked. Eyes open wide, searching. Eyes sparkling. The Moon! The moon!
Did you see it?
That words are windowpanes in a ransacked hut,
smeared by time's dirty rains, we might argue likewise that words are
clean as glass till the sun strikes it blinding
--Adrienne Rich, Transparencies