here i am, i live here

hello out there, friends.

i haven't written in a very long time.

so much has transpired, of course. things that it's hard to write about here. ideas about confidentiality, privacy, appropriateness.

grateful you've been asking where i've been. thanks.

i've been nursing my garden back to bed--today, our first long snow. it will melt, but the first silent falling of the season is here.

i've been nursing my dream work--my very own daycare, here in my home, in these mountains, with these neighbours, really, really magical and worthy.

i've been nursing myself. growing up. saying yes and saying no. making an effort to really care for, really mother, me.

i've been nursing the family men around me, their broken hearts and the loss of a wise, gently guiding woman we all relied on, for better and worse, to help us get along.

i'm learning about holding the rhythm of grief in open palms--it's a bird that way. nestles in, takes flight, is hard to catch sight of, flaps in the hair, craps at the wrong moment, sings so sweetly our hearts soar along ( i faithe).

winter becomes and i wonder how this one will become. what are my dreams this dark season?
to open my licensed Earth House kindergarten around the equinox
to embroider, sew, spin and knit
to take care of us

that's not too much, now...so why the whispering overwhelms? something about motivation balanced with self-care. something about self-care and creation being friends, not conflicts (= self care needn't be sitting around relaxing or = making and doing needn't not be relaxing). it's the mind making all those delineations. silly mind.

looking back to my writing in may and june--remembering yes-ness. that's gotten a bit dry again lately. sigh. austerity and lack banished! time for a list of "things i want to do and haven't allowed myself." perhaps you're due, too?

be well, thanks for being here,
kate.