Cat tails and yarn swirls

Lately I have felt the thrill of yarn in my hands as I knit love, care, and laughter into garments for loved ones, including myself. The pulse of stitch steady as needles slide against one another and yarn forms shapes, rows, and eventually a hat, or socks, or sweater.
I find the craft soothing, centering, and satisfying.

Equally fulfilling is the time spent strumming guitar. I place the curved back of my Ovation against my curved body, cradle it in my arms as I play notes and chords upon the strings. I am transported. Transcendent.

The cats cuddle. The meow, yowl, purr and pace about the house, demanding attention with the stomp heavy footfall. I laugh at how sometime my grey cat chooses to silently stalk, appearing at my side with stealth, then other times, feeding time, bed time, pay attention to me times he stomps about like a 180 pound person in a hurry.

The cats bring lightness and love to my heart.

Tomorrow, I shall hie me hither to the woods, and walk in the melting snow along muddy paths. I will listen to bird song, and the conversation of trees.

All of the ways I feed my spirit fuel my well-being. Provide me strength to navigate the 'dark times' as a song sung in choir articulated the sentiment. I do not feel that all dark implies a heavy or unwelcome reality (in other words dark does not equal bad in my mind. I love a dark forest, to be out after dark, unlighted by fire, flame, or flashlight. The dark moods can fuel creativity.) However, the dark times referenced in the song implied a heaviness of spirit, sadness, loss, grief, longing, loss, pain, loneliness...and those are ever present in or world. So I tend to my inner needs to help me walk the paths of dark times without falling, failing, or forgetting that I have the strength and capacity to navigate.

I feel a great peace, in this moment. [Deep breath]



I am grateful for that feeling of peace. 


Earlier I had moments of a sadness born of reflecting on loss. Loss of a friendship. Loss of connection.  Loss of something that was precious and beautiful and rare. I accepted and spoke to that feeling, "Yes. I see you. I feel your pain. I forgive you for hurting, come sit with me. We can hold a space for the pain, the loss, the disillusionment, the longing, and the loneliness. We won't deny them shelter. We are all of those things. When you are ready, you will go, and be. Meanwhile, I feel our pain." 


 
My capacity for soul growth, for transcendence while playing guitar, for peace while knitting is as much me as the capacity to feel love, loss, pain, and loneliness. It is never one or the other. It is AND. 

I live the moments in the woods.