pictured

dear friend,

i would share images with you: grey mares stand long and nimble among the yellow grass and the blue-black mountains, their manes flicker with wind. white frost hangs at noon, still lives on the skin of the long gold field. the sea lake breathes silver. fire embers throb in the foggy forest-green giant across the water. my heart burns bright white hope and tenderness; how my eyes see when soft.

i would show you these things in my hands and you would hold them and then we would look at each other. thank you, friend, for looking for me.

i am remembering, and melting, and i am feeling living inside me, the kind that echoes.

echoing in me:
the thoughts i hear are not, are not everything.
when the mind asks the body to relax, it obliges.
yoga has much, many to offer me. i listen.
i protect my self.
i love my self.
those things i thought i had to live in order to be whole, we can Live without them.

i asked for support and i am receiving. kindnesses and courage words and tenderness from so many. an offering i did accept and which has changed my living--i am just returned from five days at yasodara ashram where yoga began to live again in me. feeling really, really grateful. and tender, obviously. and unapologetic.

home again, i enjoy the warmth of a big, long fire and knowing where my elementals come from and this dog friend whose soul is also a bright white mystery--must be--and the jar of honey and my beloved riding home early to see me. i mean, See me.

thanks for listening again,

kate.