Thank you to Ruthie for the reminder that today was/is my day. I was having a kind of grumpy/frustrated day, and decided to go on a hike. I was feeling wonky until all of a sudden, I look to my right and in the field, about 10 feet away from me, was a coyote like this one:
He (I assume he's a he, I don't know why) really snapped me out of it. Pure, breathing, on the hunt coyote. Making it even better was right after when Caroline Landau and I were debriefing what we would have done had the coyote been a bit friskier. I said I'd climb a tree. And Caroline said... "but can't coyotes climb trees? Don't dogs climb trees?" Joy.
Today's one of those days where I'm appreciating all of the little moments, plants, and animals that remind me to breathe. And in that theme, here's the poem I recently posted on my desk at work:
Everything is Waiting for You
Your great mistake is to act the drama
as if you were alone. As if life
were a progressive and cunning crime
with no witness to the tiny hidden
transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny
the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely,
even you, at times, have felt the grand array;
the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding
out your solo voice. You must note
the way the soap dish enables you,
or the window latch grants you freedom.
Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.
The stairs are your mentor of things
to come, the doors have always been there
to frighten you and invite you,
and the tiny speaker in the phone
is your dream-ladder to divinity.
as if you were alone. As if life
were a progressive and cunning crime
with no witness to the tiny hidden
transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny
the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely,
even you, at times, have felt the grand array;
the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding
out your solo voice. You must note
the way the soap dish enables you,
or the window latch grants you freedom.
Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.
The stairs are your mentor of things
to come, the doors have always been there
to frighten you and invite you,
and the tiny speaker in the phone
is your dream-ladder to divinity.
Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into
the conversation. The kettle is singing
even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots
have left their arrogant aloofness and
seen the good in you at last. All the birds
and creatures of the world are unutterably
themselves. Everything is waiting for you.
the conversation. The kettle is singing
even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots
have left their arrogant aloofness and
seen the good in you at last. All the birds
and creatures of the world are unutterably
themselves. Everything is waiting for you.
~ David Whyte ~
Much love to you all. Wishing you a moment to feel your toes on the ground (or in your bed, or in your socks, wherever they may be right at this moment).
-Megan
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