My hands and feet are swollen, long days of packing, loading, unloading, carrying and pushing weight, up and down stairs and hills, but we have finally, finally arrived in our new home and it’s beautiful.
Blue bird on a forest floor in a new forest, will you show me the way?
I don’t know this forest. It’s new and you’re a good friend for me, I can tell. Before I met you, I was a city girl. But before that, I was a mountain dweller, like you. Today I return to hear your song. Will you mentor me on how to be a mountain girl again? I might have forgotten a few things, like how to get snow off the car window when it’s crusty and frozen. Like how to keep my socks dry when the snow is two feet high. Like how to put layers on my little one – snow boots, mittens with a string through the jacket so they don’t get lost. Those little clips to keep them put on the pink ribbed cuff covered in frozen streaks of snot.
What do you want to do today? I don’t know about you, but my brain can be like a train hauling fast down the track of ‘have to.’ During those times, I feel guilty when I relax without a purpose or a goal. I stop myself from getting lost in thought or scrolling through Instagram because I tell myself, Time is so precious, never waste it!
This week a close friend of mine leaned in, looked deep into my eyes, and asked, “Are you happy? Now that your daughter is better, are you happy?”
I found myself at a loss. A great big pause ensued.
Why was it so hard to answer? Suddenly I found myself analyzing what it would mean to say yes. Does it mean I have to always be feeling good? What is it for you?
How do you listen to your deep inner knowing? If you can’t hear the voice, or feel the comfort of knowing you will survive this too, how do you make space in your life for that to emerge? Isn’t it within all of us, this impulse to live, until the day we don’t? What does yours look like? Sound like? Is it a candle flame or a north star? Or maybe the sound of a wolf’s howl?
