Dessert for breakfast
Body spastic, clutching the wheels of my chair for stability, the sun dropping low on the horizon, what seems like moisture in the air, and feet tingling, I come to this page deliberately today, to reflect for a moment.
The day feels full already, were it not for discipline I think these words would not find the page today, but for joy, that is not an option in my field of intention. 😉
The afternoon has been long, Lady P, LB, and I spending the last three hours designing the container for LB’s personal development intensive to play out over the next period of time – perhaps 40 days.
In all the doing, dinner feels far away, though it was only four hours ago that I had lunch with Ms. P, quite possibly the best omelette she’s ever made – certainly among the best I’ve ever enjoyed. She and I have similar familial styles and often attack the same plate. Today’s omelette with a mix of vegetables accented by the way the green texture of the kale was a mountain on the plate, a mountain of artistic style that fell beneath our fork as good omelettes will.
It’s been a magical day of human inquiry. Starting with the fifth of our ongoing consecutive morning meditations and through the morning rising routine to the music of dialogue between our friend Katie and Woman Stands Shining.
The closing notes reverberated through the day… “One makes commitment to a task, either this task or my life… The task is impossible and somehow, we give our everything and the animals, the spirits, the people, the land, and the ancestors meet us, blood, snot, and tears, to carry us across the finish line.”
This is the place of faith, we must be enough, we can never be enough. My body does not feel like enough today.
My feet are tingling. Wait? I’m not supposed to be able to feel my feet. I am pushing stool from my bowel by focus and intentional contraction. Wait? I’m not supposed to be able to operate my bowels.
A friend who had made a remarkable recovery from spinal injury once told me of the intense discomfort and pain involved as sensation and mobility returned to her body. Again today, I can hardly focus in the face of my body’s intense inner movements and accompanying instability.
I rose for a bowl of oatmeal, which I must say, was quite every bit as good as the omelette before, joy of joys, jumping on a call – too long in the coming – with one of the human beings who has had the most impact in my life. She once “made” me draw a picture of my left hand with my right.
The punchline of that story is of course that I was always left-handed, and more so that my right hand (and my left) were by that point in my journey both paralyzed (arms too), and yet somehow the drawing came out more precise and lifelike than anything I had ever produced before.
This dear friend, woman, mentor, crone, wisdom keeper, trickster, magician, activist, antagonist, leader, artist, lover, genius, innocent is one of those places in my life that always strikes the sparks of delight in our connecting. She is magic to me and brilliant joy
Have I said enough? I don’t mean to gush, I’m just so grateful for the absurd levels of beauty in my life. Limping along through the glory as I have been, it can sometimes be hard to reconcile that sense of joyful gratitude with what so often feels like such effort so inadequate to the task.
Susanne’s work introduced me to the construct of development which blended with existing passions to become my central focus of play and love – evolutionary development. It was auspicious that I should go from my conversation with her into a meeting with a client to debrief their recent STAGES Assessment.
These lenses that we place like cellophane foil over the infinitely perfect sculpture of the being, draw out for us a rainbow kaleidoscope of the unique structures and beauty radiating through that soul. Developmental assessments do not reveal the person. They reveal beauty.
So my day was spent, in the morning like cake and candy, the midday meal like nutrition and exercise, and in the evening a bit like blood, snot, and tears. Now I lay here at the finish line, feeling broken and used up, staring up at the sky, the sun now gone behind the horizon, grey clouds and haze defusing the last of the days luminance, feeling grateful for it all, and also to have these words to share, and to know that they will touch a few souls with love.
In these and so many other ways I’m privileged beyond reason. In the midst of it all I neglected to reach out to tell Jessica happy birthday, so happy birthday Jessica. I love you all.
God gets to know things, we just get to ask questions…