the small

this week it's the littlest things that shine the brightest:

• tiny buds full of promise
• the (mostly annoying) herd of deer that roam my neighborhood are joined by three new fawns
• sporadic moments of humor in an otherwise frightful work week
• one hour of glee can redeem an entire day
• a spontaneous text message invite from k to hear this artist talk about her process (amazing!)
• the power of the word no
• the grace of the word yes

moments of grace

• my neighborhood turns from brown to brilliant in the space of one week
• a baby girl leaves the nicu for her brand new loving life
• the look of happiness ken gives me when he comes home to find me in leggings, an old sex pistols tee and an apron furiously whisking a bechamel for his favorite:  lasagna (he loves it when i get super-wifey)
• bikram yoga working its magic outside the hot room:  my totally fun saturday (garden shops! lunch! farm market! vintage! photographing!) turned upside down with car trouble, waiting and towtrucks.  i did not lose patience or my temper and spent the time waiting for the towtruck in awe and wonder at my peaceful demeanor
• being kissed goodnight even though i am already asleep
• waking up to the sound of tiny ice drops on my window

what moment of grace did you experience this week?

diner haiku

our soft private words
eggs coffee toast forgiveness
peace within chaos

happy spring

here's to light, warmth and rebirth!

moving through uncertainty

i find myself smack dab in the middle of one of those periods of life where everything seems shifty and subject to change outside of my control.  i don't like it one little bit.  since i tend toward hyper-vigilance when i perceive a threat to the life i love, i am currently living in a state of anxiety bordering on paranoia.  i want to hasten my journey through this rough spot to a state of love and grace and trust.  but even though i indulge in momentary flights of denial and avoidance, i know there are things to be learned here.

please send good mojo friends.

today

"approach change bravely" are the words i read.  this is the last thing i want to do. 

{i guess that's why it requires bravery.}

a little faith

and when the rain falls down, you know the flower's gonna bloom
and when the hard times come, you know the teacher's in the room.
~michael franti, have a little faith

mosaic monday

{see flickr creds here.}

c is for courage

god speaks to each of us as he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night.

these are the words we dimly hear:

you, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
embody me.

flare up like a flame
and make big shadows i can move in.

let everything happen to you:  beauty and terror.
just keep going.  no feeling is final.
don't let yourself lose me.

nearby is the country they call life.
you will know it by its seriousness.

give me your hand.

"go to the limits of your longing", by rainer maria rilke

in like a lamb

hello march.  i have to say that this weekend i was much more enthusiastic about your arrival.  i had big plans of a month-long intensive health overhall.  i made a boatload of tabouli, spent way too much money on veggies at the market and scheduled a date with a three-day juice cleanse.  i planned to start this endeavor with a 5am bikram yoga class (i can't make the afternoon class on tuesdays and thursdays because i teach those days).

this morning, a very un-march-like me ignored the alarm and luxuriated away in my bed instead of getting my butt to yoga.  i now sit here sipping coffee, rethinking my purchase of that really expensive juicer, totally unconcerned that i'm going to be late for work, writing about my sad sad start.

hello march.  this is me.