It is the evening of the first day of a new year. And I am drawing a deep breath, open to beauty and possibility.
We are making changes around here, ready to step more and more fully into a life that feels right for us, right now. Part of me laments, how can it feel right? I'm still mourning the loss of my mother. There is still a world of uncertainty around the future.
And yet, the cold, clear air speaks of possibility.
You see, I can tell the days are growing longer. Oh, so slightly, you know. But here, on the other side of that dark, dark night, I am seeing hope.
May this year be full of beauty, grace, gentleness, ferocity, deep ancient magic, and tender newness.
Welcome, new year.
Hi. That's me. I write, sometimes, about parenting, storytelling, and about living a life with stories.