Just like that, September’s gone and October is here. For me, the summer seems to drag on endlessly, and the fall just flies by in turbulent winds of change. Ella lost her first tooth (it’s hard to tell in the photo, because her adult teeth are coming in already behind), with another about to follow. Gabriel has so many words now, everything from “rain” to “chair” to “tractor.” I finished his little vest.
Our well water saga drags on, with a visit from the excavator that will hopefully resolve it soon . . . and while they were here, they dug us an enormous hole that will someday be filled up to become a natural pool. For now, it’s a big dirt pit, which the children love. We had a lovely visit with my mom, and a trip to the Garlic & Arts Fest, and many family birthdays to celebrate. Next week, I turn thirty.
We celebrated Michaelmas with dragon bread, learned a lot of letters, and dipped some beautiful leaves in beeswax. I’m feeling, no surprise here, like there are far too many things to do. Instead of freaking out about them all (which I really want to do), I followed my heart and picked up a wee needlework kit from our little yarn shop today, and started stitching while the baby played in the library sandbox and Ella looked for books. Apparently, feeling like I have too much to do really makes me want to craft, which is sort of helpful, and sort of not. I’ve been listening to, and really working with, Pema Chodron’s Fully Alive: A Retreat on Living Beautifully with Uncertainty and Change (I got it from the library). Love it. She uses this Hopi prophecy as the jumping off point for her talks – I had heard the end of this often quoted, but never the whole thing, and I think it really is incredible taken as a whole. Blessings on your week.
There is a river flowing now very fast. It is so great and swift that there are those who will be afraid. They will try to hold on to the shore. They will feel they are torn apart and will suffer greatly.
Know the river has its destination. The elders say we must let go of the shore, push off into the middle of the river, keep our eyes open, and our heads above water. And I say, see who is in there with you and celebrate. At this time in history, we are to take nothing personally, Least of all ourselves. For the moment that we do, our spiritual growth and journey comes to a halt.
The time for the lone wolf is over. Gather yourselves! Banish the word struggle from you attitude and your vocabulary. All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration.
We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. -Hopi elders, Arizona