the days have taken on a pattern of chilly nights and frosty dawns, followed by dazzling mornings and almost-warm late afternoons. the underbrush is alive with the dash and dart of small furred creatures, birds swoop and trill through the trees. a carpet of emerald is spreading from the sunniest patches of lawn to the edges of the ponds.
it's only been two or three days, but it feels like a pattern to me.
we humans have evolved to look for patterns from birth. structure, solace, evidence that we fit into a world that has a place for us - a pattern into which we fit and thus belong - all these things are so critical that whether there is one or not, we frequently rush to create one.
my weeks have evolved into a rhythm around baby jake - three days of what feels like frantic activity puncutated by two days of being grateful if i get half of what's on my list done. yesterday i was grateful i got anything done - baby jake was fussy from his shots. if my friend susan hadn't shown up quite fortuitiously, i would've had to wake him from a very much needed nap. (speaking of my friend susan, i intend to kidnap her some day soon and take her to my wise-women healer-friends for reiki and reflexology...she lurks on this blog... she can consider herself warned.)
patterns are not rigid things - though i think many of us might wish they were. patterns rise up, fall apart, rise up again. as above, so below. as within, so without.
and furthermore, the war must end. blessed be.