I started writing this post last night from my cozy chair near the fire. I left our tiny little tree aglow and turned on my cool moon light and tap, tap, tapped away … I scrapped it all this morning. After the sun sets I get sentimental and maybe even a tad too emotional. I cry during my Christmas movies and “say all the things” takes on new meaning. The filters I have during daylight disappear like vapor at twilight.
So I’ll begin again. It’s not a bad thing to drop the filters once in awhile. And being emotional, well … if I ever stop doing that it’s a sure sign of crisis. The past year has been an eye-opener for me. It wasn’t a bad year by normal standards, in fact, some pretty awesome things happened. But I had occasion to see myself differently. And I began to see my world differently too.
I’ve been preparing for a few years for the change that will happen when I retire. I won’t have the kind of social interactions that have become a part of my every day. I’ll have to seek out friends the old fashioned way … whatever that looks like. This past couple years I have made some new friends. That’s saying a lot. In some cases it’s been like planting a seed. Other cases, it’s like I tried planting a whole garden and watched in frustration as it withered.
There is something to be said for starting from seed. There is everything to be said about the importance of strong roots. I am just not really good at this part. I’m lucky that for the most part people see through my awkward ways, forgive my clumsiness. That helps me to know who “my people” are.
Life is an odd tapestry isn’t it ?
And you’re probably thinking that word is oddly placed here too, aren’t you ? I mean, I’m talking about friends and seeds and gardens … not weaving. And yet, if you read the description of what a tapestry is, like me, you might find that it isn’t anything like you thought and even the description is befuddling.
Life as Tapestry. Think I’ll save that for a book title someday ♡
It’s Christmas morning. Mine usually begin alone, in the dark, by the fire. It suits me. A moment or two in quiet reflection. Five minutes of meditation. Two cups of coffee.
Then it all changes.
And that’s okay, too.
Though I don’t understand the weaving part of this tapestry, I love it all the same. The language is new and confusing, but I can learn new things. My friend, my teacher says:
“You can only love the world you wake up to “
Mine, in all of its messiness and clumsiness, is still mine. And my prayer this morning, as it is every morning, is to be where I am.