Edging in…

I hope your summers were sweet and you slip swiftly into September, full of the momentum of long days and warmer air, retaining what you can of the summer energy as the Fall edges its way in…
I am tingling with something at this moment (anxiety? anticipation?)… based on a lifetime of new school years, even though I am “the teacher” now, I remain the student always, hoping to learn something new about my self and others through the processes of my life: parenting, teaching, massage, and art-making.
I am doodling on the edges of pages, listening all the while, to the different messages I am receiving. We are in constant reception, and the messages are mixed. I like my spaces neat, and my philosophies messy. I like things in their places, but ideas and feelingsfloating everywhere, through the ether. I like key words in bold face, easily read, but I like to read between the lines also, and dog-ear the pages I want to return to.  I like the balance of order and the organics of chaos. There are so many layers of information it can be difficult to sift through, to find the essence of a moment.
I am stuck on the essence of ceremony, of practice. I love the smell of sweetgrass and sage burning. I want to hone my less articulate senses of smell, taste, intuition. I think I have vision, touch and hearing down pretty well. I no longer feel rushed in my processes, as we get older, one advantage is the sense that there is enough time, if we can only slow down a bit. Every single thing I have to do does not make me happy, but I’m lucky to have so much to be happy about….the aromas and flavors of food I had time to cook with my own hands, to share with loved ones…the scent of the one I love as we draw close… I may not remember every moment but I can try to foster the mindfulness to be present as much as I can in each moment. Because I am in love with life. Because I’m in love. Because I’m in.
It doesn’t always work. Hearing the same question asked twenty times affects my hearing of the question, affects my response, my patience. But I try, in the little moments I have, to stimulate the senses in order to feel alive. It’s easy to do this at the beach, or in the forest. I will try to do this, even in the city, even after the summer ends. On the train in the morning, listening to a chant through my headphones, feeling euphoric in prayer. On the train in the evening, reading a story that makes me think so deeply about our experiences as human beings that I am reminded again: I am human. I am reminded again, on the edge of the platform as I transition from the travel into the next phase of the day: it is the transitions that are sometimes difficult. On the edge of one thing, and heading into another. Once I am in it, all is good. I’m in.
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