Tamara Willems

mountain moving mama…

a day on which, your own kind of greatness, is required…

I don’t think that I shall ever
move mountains…

I don’t really think that I shall ever
even try

it’s not my thing, not my bag
just not my way
of be – ing

and just like that then, it is August
it’s humid, languid and grey
just I suppose,  as August as August should be
it’s been hot and dry, and then
and things in the garden appear to be in a sort of
holding pattern
no one trying to overpower the other
just a certain gentleness to
there is a quietness to the outside, the softest breeze
each of us anticipating more rain
as I am out of seed, my visitors seem infrequent
or possibly it’s the looming clouds
it feels soothing this morning, like this is just the kind of quietness
I breathe
half of the household has gone off to work
and the other half still sleep
even the dogs refrain from following me out
and so I wander, quietly
little sounds
except for how often I chat to the flowers and the

I’m thinking about dynamic entrepreneurs, go getters, so called
movers and shakers
people who are said to ‘move mountains’ – not simply for financial gain
but intelligent, creative, inspired thinkers, who aspire to change the world
or our thinking, our ways in it
for the better
I’m thinking of those that I admire and continue to learn so much from
I’m thinking of women I know, who are striving for excellence
those that connect with me as a way of marketing, in a drive, a recruitment
spurring others to excellence
and the curiousness
of this…
and also those that strive, but here,  wish to connect in a kind of
mutual inspiration

by way of an answering, I suppose
a way to not
I am also thinking this,
I don’t think I shall ever move mountains
I don’t really think, that I shall ever
even try
I just have a smaller way of being
I don’t have a wish to be
I don’t harbour jealousy, envy or even scorn
I greatly admire great accomplishments
great accomplish-ers
am happy to celebrate your grandeur
I continue to marvel at just how amazing people can be
am quite frequently in awe
I try as I can to listen, to learn, to absorb bits of

And then there is this,
yesterday, in the greenhouse,  while spraying some seeds, I spot a trapped Monarch butterfly
in a cramped,  nearly impossible location
where for safety reasons, we are barred from going
yet I think to myself, ‘screw it, I’m going in’
I crawl on my hands and knees, over and under where I can
and I gently lift the monarch,  assuring her the whole time
it’s ok, I’ve got you
I can feel her
then slowly on elbows and knees, I retrace my steps
crawl back out
I take her outside, hoping against hope that I have not damaged a wing
in trying to maneuver us through
once outside
I open my hand
and she flies gracefully above my head,   in grateful freedom
and I
am elated

and even though I am the only one involved in this
rescue mission
and the only one to witness this kindness and this gratitude
is me…
this really feels like my mountain

it’s my heart you see,
this is how I shall make my mark
in a gentle, but determined kind of way
and love

without damaging ..  a wing

this is it,
shall be
my way ♥

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