Rain all day yesterday and now today a gray mist as birds fill the air with chatter, tweets, squawks, caws, and shrieks. 

I’m with these words of Rilke: 

We wasters of sorrows! How we stare away into sad endurance beyond them, trying to foresee their end! Whereas they are nothing else than our winter foliage, our sombre evergreen, one of the seasons of our interior year.

I honor winter evergreen and bare trees, welcoming the place of deepest feeling where sorrow and joy meet, rooting in a rise of gratitude, ease, and care.   

It’s the time of the January new moon, so King tides.  The flow is deep, and what’s hidden sleeps and is revealed.

My father passed 53 years ago tomorrow, and each year, I think the wound, the loss, is healed, but then, today, I’m held in soft tears, sweet ones, not salt as memories seep through.

These words of Ram Dass comfort me today, draw me forth. 

You are an entity, passing through a life, in which the entire drama is an offering for your awakening.

And there’s Cheri Huber:  Continuous awareness of being awareness takes continuous practice.

Today, I woke aware of what judgment does, and I release judgment of myself, and let it flow out with the high tide to reveal the treasures in the low.

Yesterday the light called me to capture photos in my yard. Wind chimes OM and flowers bloom honoring young light.