Summer has found us. My arms are turning brown, I've braved the public pool, adapted to the summer camp schedules, the kids are staying up later, popsicles are loaded in the freezer door, and summer reading, summer concert going, and summer movie watching are quite under way.
Creatively, the cameras, the polaroids, Instagram, the banjo and dancing--they are the punctation marks in my summer narrative, the detail finders, the moment markers, my spiritual release, and the conversation that blooms between the wings of my soul and the bones of my body. I have felt the shift of the season and I have shifted with her, always with reservation but never without resolve. I still ache in places within and without, a wistful and haunting reminder that life is too short, the days are even shorter, and this body doesn't flex and extend as it once did. Yet I know... it is not the modes with which I express myself, but the passion I set alight behind them.
I saw a man speak yesterday. He is the son of the man who taught me The Four Agreements. This book was pivotal in helping me deeply understand what true integrity is and where it springs from. I was reminded that our work towards self-awareness, self-love and self-acceptance is never finished, and that the flaws that we see in ourselves are agreements that we made somewhere along our way, attachments to some ideal that we have made real in our minds. I don't want to spend too much time writing about this because I know those who stop and read here are students as I am, aware, open, and seeking...always seeking. I thank you for that...
Wishing you a beautiful summer afternoon as I leave this moment for the next.
Much love to you....
xoxox
