Today I woke up and felt less alone and less tired and confused than I did yesterday. There’s been a lot going on lately. I ran with the dog for about three hours today in the mountains…it felt good. Just to have the sun on my face and a cessation in all the wind felt like a blessing from God. Susan frolicked in the snow and chased white-tailed deer and I saw some mountain lion tracks. I saw two bald eagles in the center of the river.
And I saw a heron, standing in the middle of the water. Lately that image has meant a lot to me…about standing still in the midst of the hectic things that have a tendency to gravitate toward us and our relationships.
This weekend has been a lesson in love to me. It’s been an earth-shattering, ground-breaking weekend that is teaching me to be gentle with myself and others. To be kind. To be understanding. To communicate. And most of all, to cultivate openness and love. It’s so hard to do until you realize how crucial it is…especially with the love of your life. Sometimes love isn’t enough, but it can overcome anything. My relationship means the world to me. It always will. Life is better with your best friend at your side. Sometimes hurdles present themselves. And by hurdles, I mean mountains. All we can do is slowly climb them, step by step, and hope for the best.
I also read an entire book full of Rilke today. I only really read Rilke when I feel something missing inside my soul. Right now, Rilke is teaching me to be patient, to be kind, and to consider what is important in life. Right now, Rilke is teaching me that one action can lead to a world of destruction, but also opportunity to reach into the depths of your soul and pull out the things you hold most dear. The verse that got me thinking today:
Listen, love. I lift my hands–
listen, there’s a rustling…
What gesture of those all alone
might not be eavesdropped on by many things?
Listen, love, I close my eyes,
and even that makes sounds to reach you.
Listen, love, I open them…
…but why are you not here?
The imprint of my smallest motion
remains visible in the silken silence;
indestructibly the least excitement
is stamped into the distance’s taut curtain.
On my breathing the starts
rise and set.
At my lips fragrances come to drink,
and I recognize the wrists
of distant angels.
Only him of whom I think: You
I cannot see.
I love you, bluebirds. I love you. Be peaceful. Let go. Know sunshine, feel rain, and stay warm when the snow comes.