Marvelous

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Some days, gratitude flows easier than others. Today, I was very *grateful* to be in that space, open to the beauty of it all.

“What I want is to open up. I want to know what’s inside me. I want everybody to open up. I’m like an imbecile with a can-opener in his hand, wondering where to begin – to open up the earth. I know that underneath the mess everything is marvelous. I’m sure of it.

I know it because I feel so marvelous myself most of the time. And when I feel that way everybody seems marvelous… everybody and everything… even pebbles and pieces of cardboard… a match stick lying in the gutter… anything… a goat’s beard, if you like. That’s what I want to write about… and then we’re all going to see clearly, see what a staggering, wonderful, beautiful world it is.”~Henry Miller

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*winter*

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“Our lives are at once ordinary and mythical. … At the same instant we have these magnificent hearts that pump through all sorrow and all winters we are alive on the earth.”~Natalie Goldberg

(On that note, is it spring yet? Ready.)

*Song on repeat over here.

Cattywampus

My favorite yoga teacher loves to say “cattywampus.” It cracks me up every time. Today throughout class, I heard her voice (in my head) echoing this word repeatedly. It seems an apt way to sum up my balance this week upon re-entry.

Do you ever recognize how the outside world mirrors your internal world, especially when you’re feeling a wee bit off-kilter? Well, I’ve been feeling somewhat out of whack for a little bit now (some nagging health annoyances, etc.), and, after last night’s near-catastrophic spill down a ZARA escalator, I have some bloody teeth mark indentations on my bruised shin to prove it. OY. (And OUCH.)

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The slip/catch wasn’t overly dramatic—few people saw it, and not even my retail-happy +1 realized how much pain I was in. The army of servers continued to dole out flutes of champagne and mini-apps (hello, model-sized bites), while I tried to conceal the throbbing in my leg, collecting myself to get outta there ASAP. But the irony of the (dumb) injury at this chic “VIP” event did make me laugh (through hard-fought tears). I’m sure there’s a lesson in such surreal situations somewhere.

(*The evening was otherwise fun, but soooo not my scene. The people watching proved surprising and fantastic. I couldn’t stop asking: Where DID all these Seattle fashionistas come from?? Not a flannel or puffy coat to be found…)

So that’s my sad tale of going cattywampus at a fancy-shmancy ZARA opening to-do. Here’s to better balance in the days to come!

(And THANK YOU to loved ones who rescue me in such times of need:) Admittedly, I often have a hard time asking for help, but sometimes it is absolutely necessary. Thank you.)

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Here/There

Home #1

Home #1

Awake early. Jetlag. Sun streaming in. (Catch it while you can!) Reggae, Langhorne, Fruit Bats. Easing my way in, easing my way back.

Home #2

Home #2

It’s the same story every time I hop coasts, transitioning between the two worlds. I miss there and I really, really miss them. (Some trips, it feels much harder to wrench myself away than others.) At the same time, it feels good to return here.

I have two homes I truly love. This is rare, I realize. I am very grateful.

Do you, too, balance between a here and a there? What helps you gracefully glide back in?

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