Crossing into summer in the northern hemisphere has an odd twist in it for me this year. Summer lore rings of vacations, travel, celebrations. But personally I feel a pause, a waiting. Despite the rush of summer activity, I honor the in-between place, where endings echo in my heart, where shades of things to come hover just out of sight. Acceptance of my experience, as it is, with all its contrariness, is settling. Kindness, patience, flexibility, faith prevail. Could that be new ground I feel gathering beneath my feet?
Present, still, together,
Barbara and Peri
Trough By Judy Brown There is a trough in waves, a low spot where horizon disappears and only sky and water are our company. And there we lose our way unless we rest, knowing the wave will bring us to its crest again. There we may drown if we let fear hold us in its grip and shake us side to side, and leave us flailing, torn, disoriented. But if we rest there in the trough, in silence, being in the low part of the wave, keeping our energy and noticing the shape of things, the flow, then time alone will bring us to another place where we can see horizon, see land again, regain our sense of where we are, and where we need to swim.