Light

Every year I am fortunate enough to draw breath on this incredible planet, with all its beauty and all its horror, is both an astounding and bizarre miracle. Every year I begin to feel more and more settled. Maybe this is the side-effect of being bestowed with the gift of aging. Maybe it is owed to all the internal work I’ve done over the past three years. In all likelihood it’s both. 

Some realizations:

True wisdom is hard-won, and it is worth it. 

The angst that has consumed what has felt like the totality of my youth is slowly, yet steadily bidding me farewell. 

Restlessness is giving-way to stillness. 

The desire to claw my way out of my own skin – a memory. 

Contentment is beginning to seep in, as is a recognition of my place in it all. 

All this peace carries with it a profound and irrevocable sadness. 

Lately, I have begun to ask myself questions like: 

How do I hold this much grief?
How do I honor the heartache in the context of the life I have?
How do I live in solidarity with people and a planet who are suffering so deeply – all of it before my very eyes?
How do I do this and not wither away from shame and guilt? 
How do I acknowledge the shadows and still hold onto my light? 
How?

How

How…

And the only thing I can come up with is that I share the light I have with everyone and everything. That I let it pour forth like water from a river flowing into the sea. That I crack myself open, while standing fast and steady and sure in the knowledge that we were made for each other, and for this earth we call home.

*This is the beginning of my 365 day quilt. Focus is light and shadow. Daily fabric square and reflection to go with it. Pieces will have raw edges and will be sewed by hand. Center is a play on light and shadow – embroidered on quilting cotton. I can’t wait to see what this becomes.