the hustle of the holidays is upon us. i feel the urgent press of time, the need to list, to divide, to delegate. my housekeeping spreadsheet no longer feels like the wooden framework of a dwellng, now it feels like the steel that spans and creates otherwise impossible structures. i have all my tools at hand - my calendars, my lists, my holiday journal from last year.
i happened to glance outside my window and i noticed first how absolutely still the morning is. a paper-thin sheet of ice cracks the surface of both ponds, the trees outside my window are winter-bare at last. not even a crow cries distantly, despite the pale pink sun. from the window, the sky looked sullen, leaden gray, but at the top of the driveway i saw a golden burst of blazing blue. the air is cold, and very calm.
i love you, mommy, said libby as she hurried out of the car.
what matters today is not how much i do or how much i get done. what matters today are the promises i make and keep, the connections that i spin and weave. what matters today are not the tasks i complete, but the people for whom i do them.
and furthermore, the war must end. blessed be.
1 comment:
Annie,
How beautiful, how poetic is your writing. I feel the same way about the "hustle of the holidays."
I love how you bring nature into your posts. Nature regularly appears in my journals. I walk each morning and afternoon with my puppy, both on the country roads we live on, and in our woods. This morning I took pictures of an early snow dusting the trees and grasses, and drafted several journal entries in my mind.
I too am trying to keep promises, make connections, and simply be, and love, laugh and learn. Thank you for your inspirational words.
Stacie (HavenWood)
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