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Ebb and Flow

Grace emerges in the ebb and flow, not just the flow. The waning reveals a different blessing than the waxing.  Robert Brezsny

This is the quiet moment, the moment that you can almost hear the house sigh its great heaving sigh of release and settle a little deeper into its foundation.  This is the moment where the baby is asleep in his carseat which is sitting beside the couch in the living room where his mother has curled herself up on her side in a ball and is also asleep and his father is sitting on the other couch facing his sleeping wife and baby and is revising an essay he has written, the moment where his grandpa is puttering on some project in the basement and his uncle, the one who is driving here from Knoxville, Tennessee, with his girlfriend, Diana, and his two dogs, has just turned onto the Seney Stretch and won’t be here at this house which is heaving its great sigh for another two hours.  This is the moment where the sun in the late afternoon, on this day in the week of the shortest days, has just sunk down over the rooftops and the sky is streaked with soft peach-colored clouds.

This is the quiet moment where you, who are looking out at the peach-colored sky, catch up with your own breath and you heave your own heaving sigh of release because you know that there will be another moment before too long, a moment where the baby will open his blueberry button-blue eyes and will arch his strong little baby back and will cry a sharp get-me-out-of-here cry, a moment when the door will fling open and the uncle who is also a son who you adore will fly in with packages and suitcases and ski boots, and the dogs, who have never been here in this heaving-breathing house, will fly in too and will sniff and pull at their leashes and wag their dog tails and yelp their dog barks and the baby who hasn’t seen too many dogs will squeal a squeal of glee and the cat who is sweet and timid and hasn’t seen too many dogs either will be a loose cannon and you’re not sure what she might do, this cat who you also adore.

This is the quiet moment, the ebb before the next flow, the moment where you can pause and listen to this house that is your home as it settles into its grounded feet, where you can listen to your own steady stream of in-breaths and out-breaths, your own steady stream of thank yous, thank you for this quiet moment of sweet balsam and soft sunset and sleeping baby breath, and thank you also for the wild whoosh when the winds change and the energies shift and the volume rises to a raucous roar.  Thank you for all of it.  Thank you.

Viren in winter hat 2

 Baby Viren in his new winter hat

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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