My husband is setting the alarm for 4:30 and rising enthused about work.

I rise a little later giving myself permission to lie in bed and mentally roam.  Lately, I’m obsessed with babies and my three month and counting grandson.

I’m aware of roundness and reach, and focus near and far.  I push him on the swing; he comes forward and flows back. Over and over we play with this shift in distance and space, until I feel the call to lift him out for a kiss and a hug.

I touch his nose with my nose and pull back – near and far, one of our favorite games so far.  He laughs and I laugh. We mirror joy, relate as one and two and more as there is sky above us and grass beneath, or carpet at times, or wood.  We notice texture, skin, clothes, touch, smell. He always smells baby-sweet.  

I think of all the children in the world, each coming with different gifts.  How do we honor and utilize each one? How do we do that for ourselves?

Right now, it’s dark outside and inside this room, there’s only the light of this screen.  I light a candle, watch the flame, a nostril moving light through air. Cat Bella is on the chair next to me, insisting on attention.  I kiss her, and use words with her, each word a touch, a flame.

Air responds to words like candlelight, and soon the sun will bring her full embrace to the day, a day between Lincoln’s birthday and Valentine’s Day.

Bliss.

This moment clarifies bliss as it opens to nurture and inspire the courage of Lincoln as we kiss our own hand to fluff the air as it moves in and out.

Like this day, we are new; we are Baby Light!

Yesterday my daughter-in-law asked me why my third book was so different than the first two.  I answered that I didn’t want to write it and I had too many editors, too much outside input.  It doesn’t mean there isn’t value in the book for me and the reader, but I feel a fourth one brewing that will again return to the fullness of my own voice.

In the book “Airing Out the Fairy Tale”, I reveal that I was called to find my own ground, the ground of my birth, before culture and society put its stamp on me, and of course that stamp was how I took my environment in, but I needed to trek in a time period no longer available, and people felt I should share my experience since it was such an amazing and unique adventure and opportunity.  For me, it was a difficult and challenging time, and difficult and painful to go back to unravel, dissect, and reveal.

Yesterday spending time with my son, his wife, and their child, I felt again how we continue to learn.  This grandparenting is a letting go, a receiving of the new. I hope a fourth book comes my way but yesterday reminded me that it is to know and honor “enough” and to trust how the path reveals.

Namaste!

This morning I’m with the words of Carl Perkins.

If it weren’t for the rocks in its bed, the stream would have no song.

Some days it seems there are a great many rocks, huge rocks, and yet, they allow us to better understand flow and patience, as we maneuver around them knowing that fluidity wanders through banks of sand, dirt, and rock and eventually reaches and flows into the sea.

Peace!

I love Mirka Knaster’s blog and today I’m inspired to go to the Sonoma Valley Museum of Art and see this exhibit for myself. I feel like it expresses what I’ve been trying to say, and so I’ll see it tomorrow.

https://mirkaart.com/exploringtheheartofit/

Birds are tweeting and flowers are blooming.  The air is full and sweet, and I sit with stillness, sit still to absorb and receive.

It’s said we come from stardust.  When one is with a little one, it feels so clear.  Big eyes answer one’s own with memory and depth. 

I’m in Menlo Park spending time with a three month old.  I watch him; he watches me. We reflect each other and the universal heart explodes and explodes.  Love!

And then there is the political news. Yesterday we were at the playground. The teeter-totter goes up and down, as swings swing back and forth.

Walking from place to place, we passed daffodils flung gaily from the ground. I want the EPA to be reinforced, not taken apart, and parks given the allegiance and support they deserve to give to us. It’s even more clear now. Vote for the people and this planet we share. Vote for the children, each precious and deserving one!

It’s light later and earlier these days.  I bought daffodils yesterday and my azaleas are blooming.  My grandson, now three months and one week old, is enchanted with all he sees. He was born at a time to watch the leaves return, and the days grow longer.  I want to meet each day with the delight of a three month old, and reach to touch with hands and heart what I see and what I don’t see.

Years ago I was at a weekend retreat at Asilomar.

Wayne Muller spoke about his book Sabbath, about the importance of a day of rest.  He laughed because what the book encouraged he was unable to do because he used his day of rest to write the book.

I love it when there’s space to see what comes.  Yesterday, among other things, it was Rupert Spira who came my way.  I watched him on youtube and took in his message of love. We also enjoyed Chinese food for the Chinese New Year.  There was no plan, only reception, and in that, beauty and grace.

Many years ago, we bought what we called a dinosaur egg at an art show. It’s made of concrete and is huge. It’s graced our entry all these years holding a plant that has begun to overtake the house. Yesterday I removed the plant and lugged the egg outside. The entry is bare, open to space.