Today I pause and knit patterns of presence. I reflect and integrate what shapes and informs intention, honoring reception.

I’m with these words of Wendell Berry:

It may be that when we no longer know which way to go we have come to our real journey.

Waves of light flow through.  Like trees and flags, I receive the wind as it moves, patterns generous in weaving change.

My mother, who passed in 2005, was born a year after Queen Elizabeth II.  I remember her talking about playing with paper dolls that were the young Margaret and Elizabeth.  I think of how we each have our own path, both imposed and created. Elizabeth was born into a role, as are we all, and then we have choice in how we respond and flow, give and receive, move and pause.

As a child, I cut out paper dolls with my grandmother.  I would be impatient and sloppy. Though she wouldn’t comment directly, she would example by holding her scissors precisely and cutting carefully around the curves, and say words that repeat in and out of me these days. 

“The way we do one thing may reveal the way we do all things.”

Memories slide in and out; gentle guidance weaves the day.

Morning Weaves

Trunks of trees wrapped in yarn