Thursday, February 11, 2016

Ash Wednesday, 2016

I was not sure about doing a series for Lent this year, and for a while now I have both looked forward to and dreaded this day. I have enjoyed the daily practice of watching for the divine in past years, but my attention feels (is) so widely scattered these days. Every time I decide to do this I immediately back away again, not trusting mysel--

I don't even want to finish that sentence. I am so sick of that loop in my head.

 And then this poem by Jan Richardson found me today, twice:

This is the day
we freely say
we are scorched.

And her words hit home, and I absolutely want to ask, every day, what the Holy One can do with dust.

And if I watch, what will I find?




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Thursday, December 31, 2015

New Year's Eve, 2015


We drove home from out of town in the dark last night, but the headlights and streetlights were enough to show us there was ice everywhere. All we had to do was wait for the sun to come out. And today it did, firstborn of everyday miracles that it is, and it turned things silver--trees, power lines, blades of grass. This is the third time in my life I have seen this happen and I plan to carry it with me into the New Year: the memory of things touched, shining, un-captureable, un-keepable. And real. 




Friday, December 25, 2015

Light, 12/24/15:


Today's light: fractured, bent, scattered, dimmed, hidden. Beautiful. 
I keep thinking about this.





Wednesday, December 23, 2015

Light, 12/23/15:


Today's light: covered-over and breaking-through, over and over. 
How many ways is this story told every day?

Tuesday, December 22, 2015

Light, 12/22/15:


Today's light: for one moment it was something welling up from underneath.

Sunday, December 20, 2015

Light, 12/20/15:


Today's light: sparks, flashes, warmth. 
Got lost in music, in making things, in the people around me. 




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Friday, December 18, 2015

Thursday, December 17, 2015

Light, 12/17/15:


Today's light: magnetic. Reminding me of every time I realized there was nothing 
to do but turn towards whatever light I could see at the moment.




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