I have been trying to strike that balance of work and play. Of passion and responsibility. Of selfishness and selflessness. Of adolescence and adulthood. I wish I was more organized, more efficient and less scatter brained and whimsical. Some days all I want to do is draw or write, but what I need to do is, finish the taxes, categorize receipts, answer emails and cut patterns. I get easily overwhelmed when I have taken on too much, but yet I am always willing to do more. When these tasks, when this life starts to close in on me, I leave my earthen home for my other house of earth.
The house that has no walls, no boundaries, no computers, no cell phones, no paperwork and no laundry list of to-do’s. I let the sky protect and surround me like my favorite blanket does on a blizzard’s eve. I stand just to be still. I look left to the mountains and right to the rivers edge. I watch the play of my hounds, who cherish and thrive so well in this house of earth. We journey on through sage and cottonwood, likening ourselves to explorers discovering a place for the first time. I stop often to touch, to smell and to remember.
Waylon has found a deer bedded down in the willow grove by the river. The doe gallops off downriver and I watch her white nubbin rise and fall with each graceful stride. In this house, each creature has a niche to fill. Each a role to play. Nature is about survival. It is both selfish and selfless. Giving and taking. Completing a cycle of life that will always continue on.
To appreciate beauty and remember simplicity. To brush off hate, anger and despair and embrace love, kindness and tenderness. To give each day a little of what it wants. I hope adventure and slowness has found you this week.
XX, wild beauties.