it's finally occured to me that for me, sunday isn't so much a day to rest as a day to plan... to dream... to think. you're not talking today, are you, observed Beloved, after the third or fourth time i'd simply gazed at him in response to a question. it wasn't that i didn't intend to answer, it was simply that what he was asking about and what i was thinking about were so far apart in mental space i had to wait for the little squirrels to make the proper connections.
it's ten am and so far today, i've re-arranged my dollhouse, cut out pictures for my soul collage project and put up a pot roast for supper tonight. the girls are sleeping, the morning feels ripe. there's lists to be made, materials to be gathered, items to put into place.
the moon is losing light... i can feel the slow determined slide into the Dark Place where dreams grow and turn real. what do i want my week to look like, i wonder. what are my goals, my dreams, my wishes, my wants and my needs? and where do they fit with those of Everyone Else? what must i do, and how will i serve?
and furthermore, the war must end. blessed be.