3.8.10 - A five day. Humility.
I sit here in my warm morning bed, sleep in my eyes and body tired from upping my miles so dramatically over the weekend and arising early with a hungry baby. The morning glow enlivens snowy hills across the valley, and like a bluebird day, puts a smile on my face that goes all the way through me. Inspiration. Pink shadows play in the spaces between the dark spaces I know to be trees and bare rock faces, inviting my heart to play there as well. I watch this dance for some time on certain mornings, others, I only get a glimpse as I dash from morning task to morning task.
The hoot owl outside fills my heart as well, like a playmate from another time. As I arise before the dawn, I have come to love his call, echoing softly through the neighborhood. Lazily I wonder if he was the one, this winged creature of the shadow side, to take our smallest cat away. Somehow that is far less violent for me to imagine than a car being her transport vehicle to the other side. I realize that since I can remember, I have held a notion deep within that I would far rather die by the hand of natural order than by concrete and metal on wheels. And maybe that is what has drawn me to the mountains of quetzal, the trails of mountain lion and bear, and to high country of snow leopard and yeti, mostly solo and (save a few moments) mostly unafraid.
Some small, but irrepressible part of me embraces that wild, even if I do not visit it daily or even weekly, at this time of my life, though I have lived in it for weeks, months. That part of me that believes in the Wild, believes too in Natural Order -and my place in it, however low on the food chain I might be. That it is there, that I can vanish into it, is enough for right now.
I hold this belief tight to me this day, feeling closeness with my own Wild and the natural rhythms and order within -and without, and I am grateful.
