firstly, thank you all ever so much for your kind words and support regarding my last post -- it was extraordinarily uncomfortable to write and i ended up with a ripping vulnerability hangover once i'd hit publish. followed closely behind by the screaming panics and the urge to delete it and pretend it never happened.
i need this space to be real.
if it isn't real, then there's not much point.
the gist of it is this - things are changing here in ye olde patchwork farmhouse and although it's ultimately going to be a Good Thing, it's also a difficult thing. because change often is, isn't it?
oftentimes it's just so much easier to bump along as you have been, especially when things aren't exactly horrible, just not ideal.
it's a form of inertia, i think. and there's a degree of unpleasantness inherent in being jolted out of one's comfortable, if not mildly dysfunctional, rhythms.
an egg song and the air smells of alfalfa. everything is changing and i'm learning to dwell in the discomfort of it all.
~ journal scribbling
on the less-heavy side, an unexpected gift of this quasi-turmoil** is that i am brought back to a loyal truth: that i am a disciple of Beauty.
it's what has anchored me during some of the more difficult times in my life and is what will undoubtedly bolster me through the days to come.
my quest for simplicity, i've discovered, is driven purely by my desire to focus more deeply on just that; to observe, to record, to nurture, to tend - to Beauty.
it has been and always will be, my saving grace.
but not in an Insta-posed snapshot of walnut-stained tables and posies of wildflowers [although these things are certainly an aesthetic which appeals to me] - but in the mundane and the ordinary...the way the sunlight sneaks through the curtain onto the broom i leave handy for chasing the turkeys when they try to roost on my fence. :)
and how when i was feeling so fragmented and lost the other evening as i went out to close up the chicken coop, and the sight of a bat flitting between the trees, silhouetted against a patch of twilit sky made me inhale sharply and breathe out..."bat" as if it were a heartfelt prayer.
which it was, really, it was a prayer of deep and humble gratitude.
i'm discovering that my yearning for a homestead is a yearning for relationship with the land; that my desire to plant a garden, is a desire to commune with the wild things. i want to live simply, so that i can live more lightly upon the earth. every plant, every full bird-feeder is an offering, a prayer, in service of Beauty.
and, too, i crave connection and rootedness for my restless soul. i wasn't being untruthful when i said was happy -- because, despite the current upheavals, i am deeply certain that everything is as it should be. the ever-presence of hiraeth serves to remind me, not of what i don't have, but what is already around me and the great gifts that lie therein.
so, what comes next?
no idea beyond this: i wish nothing more than to create sanctuary for my weary heart and for those most beloved to me - both in this digital realm and in my strange and muddled life.
which is, i think, not a bad place to start.
ps. thank you - again - for your witness.
* i shall beg your forbearance on further disclosure of the particular situation in question - i don't wish to be purposely obtuse, only to honour the privacy of the involved parties. suffice it to say, we are all in good health and are viewing a 'new normal' as an opportunity rather than a catastrophe.
** there's actually very little turmoil - mostly just to-be-expected adjustments and details to sort out. the real work lies in the realm of my inner landscape as i acknowledge how i've denied myself certain truths and why. but that's an excavation for another day. :)