poeming on a monday

this hardcore world
broken and unbroken
folded and unfolding
whispering fragments
loud and proud
alone in the midst
of all creation

Sometimes I just need to get some words out to start. It's like word salad, except there's meaning, too. The blank page can still be intimidating, after all these years. And that's ok, that's what is. No one is always flowing; ebb happens.

Some moments, what is needed most is to turn up the music and let it all out, dance party style.

And some moments, what is needed is quiet.

Ebb and flow.


Winter is starting to really show up - it's very cold out.

Yesterday, after a hygge day completely resting and doing nothing (recuperating from my birthday party), we decided we needed to go out. See the sunset at Eagle Rock. (It was beautiful.) After about ten minutes, we all decided that was enough cold, we were ready to go home.

And that's what I mean. Rest and then going out. Ebb and flow. Just let it be what it is.

I can still dislike being cold and enjoy the world. I can still find warmth in the midst of the freezing season.

I can still enjoy being warm and live in a wintery part of the world.

It is what it is.

And I am who I am.

(I can not imagine liking being cold. But that may also change. Hot flashes happen. But they aren't happening now.)

Hanukkah begins tomorrow night. I am ready.

We bought our candles on Saturday. Purple, green and red. Our colors.

We do Hanukkah our way: slow, simple, musical.

It really isn't that much different than the rest of the year, except for the progressive candles each night.

And in the dwindling light of winter-coming, I am grateful for those candles, for that light.

For stillness and dark.

For rest.

For the ebb before the flow.