Tuesday, April 10, 2007

soccer mom poetry


the sky is incredibly blue and
the breeze is soft and
the sun is warmly beginning to descend in the sky
casting long shadows
over long boys
finishing soccer practice
in this grass field where I
quite contentedly
scribble musings
in my pink flowery journal and
thank god in all her forms
for the grandeur of my life
holy heck!
blessed be.

Monday, April 02, 2007

the infinite possibilities of morning


I have definitely become a devout member of my own personal sun cult. I absolutely expand at the rising of the sun in the morning. Even though I am still tired and want to be asleep, when those brightest rays of light pour through my window as the sun creeps above the ridge line in the east, I am up.

Then, daily, I find myself plagued by what to do, how best to use this precious, glorious time that seems pregnant with possibility. Should I write? God know it's all I really want to do and there never ever seems to be the time for it. Should I read? I am volumes behind on the reading I would have liked to have done at this point in my life.

But there are so many more pressing and practical uses for my time. I could finish the dishes, or start the laundry, or prepare breakfast. Hell, I could start preparations for dinner, considering the amount of time that scratch prepared, whole foods cooking requires. I could wake my lethargic, homeschooled boys and try and get us all started on our day together.

What I often end up doing, what I did this morning between starting and finishing this post, is going for my morning walk. My saving grace, my kinetic salvation, I walk up the mountain with my pack of unruly dogs almost every day and it serves as their exercise and mine and my opportunity, if only for 35 minutes, to be outside and soak up the sun and breathe the mountain air and be in my body fully.

Often when I wake I think I could stretch. I could do yoga. I could meditate and do chi gong. But I don't. I need to, but I don't. I haven't mustered up the routine of it yet. I will need to sit with books and read and figure what style and what method and what approach. Then I will just wake up and do it. I don't know for what the hell I am waiting. I haven't figured it out.

I like the feeling that I get in those hours, as though I could accomplish anything. I seek to harness it and to make better use of it. Someday, perhaps, I will rise and compose a fine poem, start the laundry, read a chapter, make omelettes with fresh veggies for breakfast, complete six sun salutations and one 1000 hands Buddha chi gong form, soak the beans for dinner, correct homeschool papers and come up with a brilliant new science experiment for the day and take a strident stroll as a walking meditation up the mountain all before 10 AM. That would rock!

What do you do in the morning?