I love the image of my life as moving in a spiral like the formation of a Nautilus shell, or like the labyrinths I love to walk where I move in and out to get to the center but today I come to Guy Davenport, the author of The Geography of the Imagination.  

History is not linear; it is the rings of growth in a tree.

This works for me as I resonate to trees.

Many of us are now enthralled with the octopus after reading The Soul of an Octopus and watching “My Octopus Teacher”.

Now I learn that the octopus and the nautilus have three hearts.  Imagine that!  Maybe that’s what this country needs to visualize as it turns from egocentric theft to love, empathy, compassion and care for all.

I rise and dress, then, take some steps backward and the world opens up before me. 

Try it.

Try walking slowly backward and see what happens, notice what wakes.

I fill the coffee pot with water, noticing if there is any extra effort.  Where are my shoulders?  Are they moving, resting, assisting? Are they, too, involved in and excited about water in a pot coming to a near boil to pour over beans from somewhere else, not here?

I remember Barbara Kingsolver’s book on spending a year consuming only what was local. Coffee was an exception, as was chocolate. Flour is challenging, though honey can be substituted for sugar.

I walk outside and the half moon is shining with a rainbow halo around her.  Perhaps, she, too, finds new ways to play with matter and light, savoring the geometry and curve of spacetime.

It’s Groundhog’s Day and Black History Month.  Meanwhile more tents are set up by those who are homeless.

I’m paused to receive it all.

The Peace Pilgrim wrote and said: 

We are all cells in the same body of humanity.

If you’re not familiar with her, here’s inspiration on how to live and celebrate each moment of each day.

https://www.peacepilgrim.org

It’s the last day of January.  We’re still in unsettled times with the pandemic and corruption in our government so deep it would defend sedition and treason.  I go back through my journals on the last day of the month, and this month has been shocking.  To read again what happened on January 6th and in the following days and weeks is hard to believe, so I go to Victor Frankl, a Holocaust survivor.  

“What we “radiate” into the world, the “waves” that emanate from our being, that is what will remain of us when our being itself has long since passed away.” 

I find comfort in waves.  

Meanwhile the full moon from Thursday moves toward the new.

Hazrat Inayat Khan asks: 

Full moon, where will you be going from here? – Into a retreat. Why do you take a retreat after fullness? – To make myself an empty vessel in order to be filled again.

Yes!

This is my intention for the day.

I start my day perusing photos and videos of my grandchild, and reading Heather Cox Richardson.

I’m with a suggestion from Elizabeth Berg. Take titles from the books on your bookshelves and make a poem. I’ll do that later today but right now I’m with these words of Jarvis.

I thought it would be an honor to put Harriet Tubman on the $20.00 bill but now I see that it’s not the right thing to do. She can be honored in a more honest and productive way. You can read Jarvis here:

https://www.freejarvis.org/updates-1/jarvis-journal-faced-with-a-twenty-dollar-bill-full-essay-1?fbclid=IwAR2Lnzhm3S4htycHatp-kE147-Dt-s43jVPvVVgU-58VwPbSGT_TgHAqXgI

A friend tells me her daffodils are popping up. I go to the grocery store and there I see shiny yellow faces – daffodils. Home, I put them in a vase and come to a book I’m editing for a friend. Her words lead me to this link. Tap your feet and bounce.

Rain in the night and more rain coming.  I exult in the cleanse, and these words of William Blake: 

Mere Enthusiasm is the All in All!

I’ve been in a bit of a tender harvest as I pause to digest and integrate all that’s happened and is happening politically.  Perhaps because I was raised to believe we care for each other, I’m shocked at those who see it so differently.

Yesterday afternoon,  I made a fire in the fireplace and watched the sparkling dance as I listened to the crackle and watched the clouds move as day turned to night.  Life seems so rich to me right now.  Yes, my bubble is small, Steve, me, two cats, but there are trees, and I see that though some of them stand with their branches still bare, buds form to emerge in this new month that comes.

January comes from Latin. Janus is the god of beginnings and transitions.  We’re certainly living that.  

I sink into Joy Harjo’s words to guide and warm my day.  

Remember the plants, trees, animal life who all have their families, their histories too. Talk to them, listen to them.

They are alive poems.

It’s been five and a half years of listening to lies and trying to keep our head on straight and our hearts aligned. And now a real press secretary and president and vice-president, a return to decency and care.

This morning I read these words of Brenda Ueland.

Resign yourself tranquilly to doing something slow and worthless for at least an hour.

What a great idea.  A January weekend is before us.  Allow peace and ease to flow through.  There’s work to be done, yes, and the tide pauses as it turns. We, too, can pause, reflect, and renew.

This will lift and spark your heart.