Summer afternoon, summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language.” Henry James
I took a long walk yesterday, listening on my headphones to poet David Whyte talking about “What to Remember When Waking.”
I confess: I was two miles down the road and completely under the spell of Whyte’s romantic English accent before it even occurred to me that he is not referring to waking up literally, as in what to remember as you roll out of bed in the morning, but rather to waking up in a spiritual sense. In other words, waking up to your life.
Suddenly, in the heat of the day, trudging back up the hill toward home and dripping with sweat, I got it.
Each day offers me a choice. I can keep my head down, my heart locked up, my soul tethered to my to-do list, my feet on the same old well-worn path. Or, I can wake up. I can pay attention to the subtle currents of my life, and allow them to carry me in a new direction. I can feel my feelings, rather than avoid them. I can be fully present, rather than half here. I can wake up to the challenges of the journey, the conversation I don’t want to have, my fears about where I’m headed, the truth of who I am, the gifts and and losses of my life as it is.
Today is as good a day as any other to wake up. It is a summer afternoon. Why not wallow like a hedonist in the fullness of the present moment? Succumb to the fleeting beauty of June. Allow your tender heart to open, both to grief for all that’s over and gladness for what remains. Eat strawberries. Watch a robin splash in the birdbath. Blow bubbles with your kids. Go for a swim, or a bike ride, or a walk. Watch the clouds drift past. Pick daisies for your table. Snap some peas. Hang your damp sheets on the line. Sit in a lawn chair. Read a book. Close your eyes. Take a nap. Wake up.
I sat by Echo Lake in Acadia early this morning, breathing the BRFWA mantra in and out, and thought of you.
Amen. Nothing else to say other than: yes.
Yes, there is always a choice, such truth in this. I might be lost in my head, spinning up some crazy story, but when I choose to let that all go and plug into the pulse of the here and now, everything changes. Life opens up.
I’m listening to this too! (3 Marriages is next). You describe it perfectly. I always need reminding about waking up. So, so glad it is summer!! xoxo
Yesterday I turned 60. Today, I wake up with a renewed sense of thankfulness and gratitude, that I have made it to this point. As I celebrated with family and friends, I realized how lucky I am to have all those wonderful people in my life. I am lucky to have survived two hip replacements and a recent knee replacement. I thank god everyday for the blessings bestowed upon me and am grateful for small things. Keep writing. It reminds me to savor all those precious moments in our lives.
Waking, walking, the Eternal Moment… I remember walking along with you as LA dropped below our rising vista in what is now a sort of “past”… I imagine walking along in NH in a sort of imagined “future,” and I imagine reading more of your book, pages I savor and save for when I really need them, when the blessings of what is now keenly treasured becomes bittersweet pain of “memory” about times, like now, when my children are gathered under a common roof.
Wishing you every presence and blessing
XO
Thank you! Felt like that was written to me personally.
It’s with tears in my eyes that I have finished the book…..thank you for sharing an intimate view of your family and your home….you painted a picture that was very easy to visualize….with a 24 year old daughter the words at the end of the poem rang so true “and may you grow strong to break all webs of my
weaving”…we teach our children from our own life experience encouraging them however to go out into the world to build their own pathway.
Katrina, your words are always beautiful. This new lay-out is just gorgeous! Beautifully, beautifully done. It was beautiful before, of course. But, wow!
Beth, I think you are the very first person to walk through the door of my renovated “home.” How fitting that is! And thank you. I still have a good bit of tidying up to do in here, but it’s coming along. And I’m so glad you arrived first to say hello.
thank you for the reminder. Going to wake up now.