Yesterday I mowed a labyrinth into the grassy patch between the barn and the greenhouse. The boys and I took a basket of milkweed pods that we had gathered last fall, and spiraled our way into the center of the labyrinth, where we scattered the the fluff like prayers. Prayers for the monarchs, for the future of these children and the planet that supports them, for the people I carry in my heart. For you. For me. For transformation, and for compassion and for love. For Beauty, and for fun.
1. That wren out there reminding me to keeping listening, keep talking, keep the conversation going.
2. Being in a body. These morning aches, this slightly blurry vision, this stuffy head–it’s all part of being in the body, along with tastebuds, sensations of cool breezes and warm sweaters, satisfying stretches.
3. Prayers. I am re-establishing my connection to the word prayer. I will keep using my other words, too–carrying stones, casting webs, holding the bowl–but prayer is a strong universal signifier for being mindful and concerned, and I am finding that I am choosing it more often to represent what I do, wordless as it so often is.
4. That tiger swallowtail that slipped like a sunbeam down the green slope of the ridge yesterday.
5. Compassion, and all the places you find it.
May we walk in Beauty!