Why sometimes does caregiving feel part of a flow, not effortless exactly but free of the stickiness of resistance, and other times not? Today the thought of going up to Salem and doing whatever it is I’ll do for my sister feels like donning a neoprene suit in sweltering heat with no body of water in sight.
Is there a trick of mind that could turn the latter state into the former? A practice of the heart that could cool the hot refusals?
And then on my (sweltering) walk with Finn look what I find! The ultimate symbol of freedom, even if fallen from a bird that rarely resorts to flight and has all the grace of a velociraptor (I speak, of course, of our neighborhood turkeys).
Here’s the miracle for the day. I return to a message from my sister: if you don’t want to come today, please don’t. It’s okay!
I love your indigo shirt!
oh, right? and here I thought you’d comment on the feather!! I dyed it at the Sea Island Indigo workshop outside of Charleston. It was nice as a pale ivory, but I LOVE it blue and blue.
this brings tears to my eyes, honest to god. as I was half way through your paragraph I thought: I’m going to tell her that after The Visit she must drive to Long Beach in Rockport (or a similar place) and plunge in. Your basement studio is a shorter trip and I now have a cool basement studio where I am headed as well. cheers!
it’s not THAT bad though the heat is crippling and I haven’t swum anywhere yet this summer never mind in the ocean, never mind in one of my favorite places of the ocean and could certainly use a dunk. I will soon!!!