Someone is born today, that’s really how this whole month is.
I believe I may have figured myself out. Seems like a stretch, but I just could swing it. Life, unobstructed by financials strain, and my work fully practical, within grasp. I am interested, moving this way. Imaginably, I suppose it will take some time to generate livable abundance, but time is all I’ve got anyhow.
The dog digs around his torn up chair, building a little nest for the evening. He looks uncomfortable, staring out the west window or indirectly at me (as a lizard or a horse.)
The fresh air of this late late late warm autumn graces Montana well. We have pours of rain near most evenings. I hear they are being stolen from our northwest friends. Of course this land is changing, and just as we are of the earth, inevitable, on any timeline, part of the “cause.” But still, this living rock would transform without us. Shift her seasons and pools of water, much larger than I could effect. Sure, time moves quickly around us but our time is terribly short. Gratefully short.
I see the orange leaves happy here, and I know I am lucky. Still though, Mother is always beautiful as am I. Life simply remains here. No amount of distraction or dedication has yet deterred me from this powerful truth. There is no lonesome in this truth.
I do not yet believe in the roles members of a house must play, but my do my love and I fit into them nicely. We ebb and flow uniquely, each pushing our own bounds, but in practice of biological want or need, we have grounded like trees. He holds divine space, environment for me to flourish in my creativity, my energetic thresholds. My love provides space for me to work for Us. For cooking and dancing and tidying, a space I cultivate a conducive life for us both. Tending towards our optimal selves, I gain traction. I love this, I feed off my stretching capacity. I display my love this way, every day since I’ve been earthside.
Chicken in the oven. My back right wisdom tooth is pressing its way up. Present and perceived self blend more than ever these days. This is the true, fruitful life I suspect. My love and I both, wandering with each day. Of course not always am I able sit in abundance like this. But life is regular. I mean this in so many ways.
The food I eat, consistent and filling. Nutrient dense, flavorful, ancestral. Full-bodied and integrative, home-cooking is a must. As a woman in this world, I imagine I am of the minority here. Truly I am newfound in it. Life was not so abundant, and my body struggled deeply, cellularly. Self-sabatoging, complicit in my victimhood like so many people I did not eat well for years, nearly decades. Still, I am so lucky for the abundance I already know. My youth did not erode my lust for growing, supporting a healthy body first. This is the greatest gift I have yet to know.
A cyclical life is one I clearly witness now. After deeply sitting, tuning in to the deeper workings of the earth inside this body, listening eased. It is a friendly conversation, not rigid as a teenage girl. I am the calmer of my ailments, the first responder. How lucky, how supportive, how mutual, how innate. Cycling with the earth. This is a proof deeper than gorges in the flesh. My healing body confirms all suspicions, I witness life unravel before me, held tight in the trust and reverence of my body to guide me.
A female body. Unique and “undiagnosable,” often. Read and write and breathe and read, she is scientifically sensical, I’ve found. I know her more deeply than I could ever be taught. This Life is rich, for I intend that in all places. The sun sets pink on the hills, again.
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