friday present: pegasus catapult.

This week stormed through the house and swept up all the pretty horses--light like feathers--impeding its path. It makes me think, maybe I really did ride a pegasus last night, dreaming. After this week's hectic, I'm so thankful for now's lull:

to be quiet... 

{photo by khalid almasoud}

Have you ever noticed how hungry just the mere act of thinking makes you? I used to work in a cubicle at a Silicon Valley internet company. I'd eat a bowl of cereal there, and even though my only activity was brain and finger-related, my stomach would start growling in no time. But then on the weekends--even though I physically moved around more--I could go all morning without eating and without feeling too hungry. I don't know if this has something to do with being alone or the amber waves of brain activity calming down. Maybe the extra energy came from not being exposed to florescent lighting's energy sap.

I do know that little things like talking eat up a lot of our energy. A couple years ago, I did a 10-day meditation in silence. We'd have lunch at 11 a.m. and in the afternoon around 5, we'd eat a piece of fruit and drink tea. I never felt ravenous hunger, until the last day when we broke the silence. That day we still meditated, but between meditations, we talked and got to know the people with whom we shared our rooms, the incredible experience. When evening tea time came around, we were famished.

My point: Sometimes simple conversation can wear you out. We've had nearly four despedidas in as many days. Saying farewell takes a lot of talking, or in my case these zombie days, a lot of listening to others talk. Who knew it would be such a drain? So yeah, right now I'm happy to be quiet.

to be reminded...
Permanence is life's comical side dish, like that plate of brussel sprouts at Thanksgiving that nobody really touches. I'm sure the fact that we're leaving and saying goodbye to all our friends here makes moving all the more exhausting. This week we sold the car, we sold our land in Patagonia, we sold the last of our mountaineering equipment, we packed two of our bags and set aside piles of things to give away. I've looked on as beautiful friends take away pieces of my clothing. Part of me lights up to see my wardrobe refreshed on a different body. Part of me misses my body. Agility, lightness, stamina. (I know I'm not supposed to say that, but I'm sure such moments happen to everybody. And this is about acceptance.)

I didn't expect to find myself astride a saddle of attachment. I've moved a lot, sold off all my belongings more times than I care to count. Although it may not sound like it here, I am thankful for this lesson of letting go. We do live a pretty transient, up-in-the-air life, but here that's still easy and more or less stable. Moving back to complicatedville is frightening, so it's good to practice a little let-go right now. The only really ever have control over our thoughts + actions. So I am reminded: Make the thoughts positive, act with compassion.

{photo by colton witt photography}

to find space...
As I get heavier, my life lightens. Every day for the past two weeks, we have gotten rid of some material thing. During this time, baby enjoyed a growth spurt and my belly, lots of oil slathering. I'm creating space.

to be loved...
Yesterday I guess I just needed to cry. During our dinner party. Um, yeah, thanks return of the hormone crazies. It was late, luckily we were at our home, and everybody was entertaining themselves. I snuck into the bedroom, feeling how tired kids must feel when the fussing and crying kicks in. With no real reason other than it's time to be quiet and rest. How many fights have we picked in our lives because we weren't listening to our own exhaustion-o-meter?

S came to the rescue, held me, pulled me together, reminded me I'm a space maker. Thank you for your patience, understanding, killer pep talks and strong hugs.

{photo by seyyed mostafa zamani}

to be...
Grateful to just be. That's all.

What are you thankful for today?