Kabir Kadre
Kabir Kadre

What season?

Kabir Kadre|1 year, 5 months ago

Today’s entry to the Journal marks a full year in this cycle of writing.

It’s my birthday today, I spent much of it on the phone fielding calls from loving friends, and much of the time not on the phone enjoying the loving company of the loving daily fixtures of the household experience.

On rising, my body quickly went to the state of discomfort – I’m currently suspecting lower back issues, and hope to have a better read on this tomorrow when Dr. Mike makes his first visit of the year.

I struggled a bit through the morning before making my way out into the sunshine of the garden to let the natural world work it’s wonder cooking the discomfort out of the being.

The calls today were not from the usual suspects… Most of them anyway. Of course mom called, wearing a festive bright red sweater and smiling broadly; and Elisa, though the latter was more just the course of things as we are negotiating a creative inquiry into the possibility of forming an LLC to keep the house.

But the unusual suspects… From Massachusetts, from Connecticut, from British Columbia, as I think about it out loud just now, these special women, each relatively iconic places in the lifecycle…

Susanne was first, singing upon my answer, like an angel with her sweet voice tickling the finer wings of my spirit. Embodiment of the wise crone, her example, as well as a constantly loving encouragement always calls me to love a little more carefully, to aspire a little more sincerely, and laugh a little lighter.

Then Erika, the most ancient of friends to call today, just a year or two my senior, someone I have known and loved for probably a quarter-century now, a contemporary who reflects myself for me, in the feminine form, true to her heart, clear, and human, frail and strong all at once, a seeker and pathfinder cut from the cloth of my heart.

These calls I received in the light and quiet of the front garden, surrounded by our little urban valley wooded paradise.

That truly is one of the special features of this home, out the back the view is of stadium and freeway and light rail, a commercial valley filled with lights and activity… Unless you look just a little to the right, then it’s just hawks and ravens and coastal desert flora overlooking a quiet neighborhood.

Out the front, the neighbors homes are close, and all of it held in trees and natural hillside and, by some miracle, silence as if the freeways were hundreds of miles, not hundreds of meters away.

I came indoors to do a little work and eat some lunch, which I did, for a while. The phone rang again…

Rebecca, living contemplatively in Connecticut now, anticipating a move across the country, calling from the quiet recesses of time… A young adult, mature a few years now, wise, smart, enthusiastic, creative, simple, committed to goodness and love. Her presence in my life always invites me to listen more carefully, love more gently – like studying carefully the edges between two people that I might more skillfully placed drops of nutrient and care into the field of the other.

Each of these calls was unexpected (to be fair Susanne told me the other day she would be calling, but that was only because I stumbled across her plans inadvertently. 😉 Thusly they lent a sense of richness and specialness that the day might otherwise have overlooked.

It has been a year that I’ve been writing these pages, and today leaves me wondering where to go with this discipline, what to do with this output, how to craft the next chapter.

If you are reading these words, it is probable that you have been reading others over this year, how would you feel if these pages stop? Is there something you would like to see more of, something less?

If you are inspired, please do reply today or in the next few, let me know what or how this relationship is for you?

Tomorrow I will probably write on perhaps less narrative of the day, and more inquiry into how I might become even more of myself in the coming year… It’s been a discipline to give myself these moments to write each day, I don’t want to waste that, but I do want to ask vulnerably of myself, of you, of these pages, what new season is this?

Now to dinner, Nova has graciously gotten special take-out to celebrate the day, I go now to smiles and good smells…

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God gets to know things, we just get to ask questions…