quiet thoughts

it feels quiet today. one of those mornings when i had the thought, "oh, i will call grandma and tell her that." then almost immediately the mind and heart realize together with a punch in the gut that i cannot. i hate this. i don't hate much, but i hate that moment when i realize. the tears tap on the back of my eyeballs as the rain drips outside the sliding glass door. my nose congestion begins in anticipation of tears that do not fall. a pile of books seems to sit on my chest and as i take a breath they slide off but then stack up again as i exhale.

the thought that prompted this was my excitement about my new sewing machine. i am excited and overwhelmed by this new beast that sits on my dining room table (an early birthday gift from jon's parents - i am blessed). the last time i set up thread and bobbins and needles in a sewing machine was almost 20 years ago when i as in 4-H for a summer. i am sure i will figure it out this weekend, but my heart wishes my mom or jon's mom or my grandma or my great-grandma would knock on the door, right now, and say "hi honey, i am here to help you. let's make something." i just wanted to call my grandma and say, "wish you were here." indeed.

the seesaw of excitement to quiet feelings. back and forth. this is how it is.

i am excited to have had some creative energy surging through me. but i am not so sure i like anything i have created. though i try to own the fact that the only way i will find my way is to play and paint and glue and try new things.

i have ideas flowing, but i don't feel capable. i. know. i. am. yes, i know i am. but that doesn't mean that i know it in every moment. all the books i will write and the creations i will paint and glue and sew together and the booth i will have at the fremont sunday market full of all of my creations and the yoga workshops i will give and the and the and the....when will it all begin? when will it jump from my heart into the world?

it is a rainy day. the kind of day when i want to just go shopping and find something wondrous. i need a dress for two weddings i have this summer. i wish i had someone i could call right now and say, "want to go shopping for a new dress...then have tea...then sit in the poetry section at barnes and noble and take turns reading poems out loud?" i wish you were here so we could do that. wish you were here.

the sewsaw of the mind and heart.

since you aren't here today, i am going to curl up and watch the movie chocolat, then read a few pages of may sarton's journal, then maybe turn up the indigo girls really, really loud and put more paint to a canvas. anything to balance the seesaw just a bit.