Dearest friends,
I have been avoiding this post for ages. I’ve written it in my head so many times. But today I’m writing it, because sometimes life just gets really hard. And sometimes it’s healthy to acknowledge that.
I’ve been enmeshed in some melancholy that I can’t seem to shake. Maybe you have too.
A few weeks ago I had some fairly simple day surgery that got all caught up in my heart condition/anesthesia protocols and I have had to wrap my head around some new realities. I don’t share this for sympathy, or as a request for medical advice. I’m just sharing it to acknowledge that as we age, our lives begin to show the wear and tear on our bodies. This is natural. We can get angry and fight it, or we can accept it and find grace to move forward with renewed appreciation for each and every day. I’m seeing this chapter in my life as an invitation to pay better attention to what I put into my body, how I move it and what I choose to do with my days.
Autumn in Vermont has been so very odd this year. The late frost in May, the flooding in July and the heavy rains again in August have taken their toll of the foliage, the harvests and our spirits. Our view, which is usually spectacular this time of year, has been more muted and the leaves have blown off the trees much sooner that usual.
Domestic and world events these past few weeks are enough to bring anyone to tears.
So, what to do, friends, with this melancholy?
I’ve been holding the word devotion close to my heart this year. As I thought about what to write about here, I thought perhaps I could reflect on little things this fall. A devotion to little things. And I’ll take my cue from one of my favorite quotes, via Bread and Puppet Theater.
THAT SIMPLE-LIGHT MAY RISE OUT OF COMPLICATED DARKNESS
For instance, I had a few pieces of jewelry that I have not been wearing because they were broken. I finally pulled out my pliers and fixed two bracelets. The simple pleasure I got from repairing those old favorites was so fun! I moved on to sewing some patches on old pj’s and doing some mending. Then I organized a drawer in the kitchen. Today we harvested carrots from the gardens, and I set the Hopi black sunflower heads out on the three season porch to dry. We brought some apples in from the yard. I scrubbed the front door mat and draped it over the deck railing to dry. I wrote some snail mail. I cut some holes in a cardboard box for the cats to play in.
I have not created world peace. But I have created a renewed sense of peace in my home. I have pulled myself back from the edge of melancholy and now I have fresh energy to move forward in a more productive way. I’ve made space for possibilities.
So, for the next bit, I’ll be devoted to little things here. I’ll share ideas and small projects to cultivate hope, to bring light to the darkness.
And if you have some ideas, dearest readers, please share them here in the comments, or send me a message. xo