Friday, February 11, 2011

Plunging Into Words


I'm a lucky, lucky girl, and I know it.

In spite of my fair share of obstacles, my day-to-day life is quite enjoyable. I'm able to care for my girls in their every need. I have a job that I enjoy, filled with freedom and the ability to drink warm beverages while working. Even the requisite stresses and hassles of life are just the flavoring of a full, rich existence. I've often been lonely, and often I still am. And yet, I am blessed now with such a vibrant circle of friends that I don't have enough time to socialize with them properly and write also.

It can be worrying when I meet up with a friend to write and she wants to talk instead. I have to shelve my hope of getting a few more pages done, one more piece of work out to a client. But it is absolutely wonderful too! The amazing blessing of having companionship and conversation and laughter on the bleakest of days, well, I don't take it for granted, that's for sure.

I saw a license plate holder with an error on it. "Everyday is a gift from God," it read. And while I'm sure they meant "each day," I like it as I read it. For, the everyday, the ordinary, the stuff of life IS the ultimate gift from God. It's what we are.

Today has been extraordinary. I taught an amazing yoga class. I've been subbing all week, and I've recalled just how much I love teaching. The students start out dubious; I'm a stranger to them and don't look particularly yogic to their appraising eyes. By the end of class, a transformation has occured. The sense of relaxation is palpable; they thank me with smiles and hugs as they exit. I had so much fun today, I was high off the energy. I had forgotten just how much I adore yoga with a group. I had forgotten just how good it is possible to feel when your entire body is energetically alive.


From there, I helped a client organize and run a letter-mailing meeting. Two pleasant hours of work - another $100 of pay.

And, now, I'm here. Writing in the late afternoon sun. Surrounded by unique individuals - the dad with the worried brown hair and crinkled eyes reading his novel, the professor with the floppy hat and lap-based laptop whose neat bob is the exact soft grey of her scarf, the 8th graders giggling out an order while they tug at their tight shorts - the humanity that I so love. Hoping that the love that fills me brings me peace and moves from me out into the world, clearly into the world, physically, tangibly, helping and warming others in their own extraordinary, everyday lives.

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