Today I am writing words in my head
\nfar too many at once
\nall milling around, brushing past in flashes
\nbumping into
\neach other<\/p>\n
a song I have recently discovered has carved its place in my heart last night I watched a documentary called Maiko: Dancing Child this morning I\u2019m thinking about life and love of how much time is wasted,\u00a0 that will not come back I\u2019m thinking about respecting one\u2019s privacy about about connections lost and then about a willingness to accept new truths I\u2019m thinking about empathy and openness I\u2019m thinking about boldness and blindness about the brashness of noise and about I\u2019m thinking about genuine goodness and also,\u00a0 just where we might be to listen\u2026<\/p>\n <\/p>\n and then comes, another line from that song, Today I am writing words in my head far too many at once all milling around, brushing past in flashes bumping into each other a song I have recently discovered has carved its place in my heart the words and…
\nthe words and melody constantly playing in thoughts
\nand on my lips
\n\u2018she is messy,\u00a0 but she\u2019s kind\u2019\u2026<\/em>
\nthis, the line I can remember, the rest\u2026
\nI just hum<\/p>\n
\nabout a prima ballerina with the Norwegian National Ballet
\nher work and dedication as well as her desire to have a child
\nbut to maintain her place at the top
\nit was quite touching, quite thought provoking and quite
\nbeautiful,\u00a0 especially of course, brief portions of Swan Lake
\nand again I marvel at people so very brilliant and focused on their art
\nand always I admire that true sense of oneself
\nquite miraculous<\/p>\n
\nI am reading a book about facing adversity, building resilience
\nalso about grief and how best we can move through it
\nas well as how very much we need
\neach other
\nhow we comfort and support
\nhow we
\nreach out
\n(or not)<\/p>\n
\nfriends, colleagues, acquaintances
\nand
\nfamily
\nhow we hold each other up
\nhow we
\nlet each other
\ndown
\nthe stories we tell
\nwhen we feel slighted, or hurt, betrayed
\nhow we don\u2019t always ask questions
\nto
\nunderstand
\nto consider..
\nhow instead we prefer to stick with our version of things
\ntell our own stories of what someone
\nis like
\nor has done or not
\ndone
\nand how this serves us
\nand
\nwhy\u2026<\/p>\n
\nand whether…\u00a0 \u00a0it is
\nthat
\nwe even
\nnotice<\/p>\n
\nyet sharing our stories
\nso that other\u2019s may know
\nthat we\u2019re here<\/p>\n
\nreaching out in ways that we can
\nwhen we can<\/p>\n
\nfound
\nor just
\nlost…<\/p>\n
\nletting go of old stories
\nforgiveness
\nand the courage
\nto be
\nkind<\/p>\n
\nabout soft eyes and soft hearts
\nand
\nSTRENGTH
\nof character<\/p>\n
\nand ignorance<\/p>\n
\nthe comforts
\nof
\npeace<\/p>\n
\noutstretched arms
\nand the nourishment
\none feels
\nin the offering
\nof a hug<\/p>\n
\nif maybe
\nwe
\ntried<\/p>\n
\n…\u00a0 \u2018she is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie\u2019\u00a0\u00a0 \u266a\u266a\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u2665<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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