Dear Friends,
Greetings on this new day, I hope my Glimmer finds you well and ready to receive the promise of Spring. After a challenging Winter, my heart is smiling at the sight of moving water alongside the expanse of ice on the lake. Our intense winter pushed my “survival” buttons – energy changes as our attention is riveted on cancellations, traffic concerns, shoveling demands, isolation and last-minute supplies. Someone recently called it “snow anxiety,” and I confess! At this stage of life, anxiety increases as we attend to these real-life needs and adjustments. I find myself with an increased feeling of vulnerability, heightened by my own story of survival.
But here I am, we made it! Safe and sound on Beseck Lake. We have all we could ever need, with dear family and friends to help if more is needed. Here I am, watching for the subtle shift of color across the tree tops, listening for bird song celebrating the return of warmer weather. Here I am, trusting a body that works on my human journey. Here I am, grateful for our home, filled with love and memories of our life. John O’Donohue speaks to me as I transition out of winter-survival-mode. Instead, I welcome a time of promise. Join me in his lovely imagery and invitation.
“A home is not simply a building; it is the shelter around the intimacy of a life. Coming in from the outside world and its rasp of force and usage, you relax and allow yourself to be who you are. The inner walls of a home are threaded with the textures of one’s soul, a subtle weave of presences. If you could see your home through the lens of the soul, you would be surprised at the beauty concealed in the memory your home holds…. Where love has lived, a house still holds the warmth.”
I offer John’s poetic language, dear friends, as you face whatever transition has come your way. I pray that you claim the shelter that surrounds your sacred and intimate lives. Your home, that survived snow drifts and windstorms, your body that endures treatments and discomfort, your spirit that seeks integrity in a time of injustice, your heart that knows love – and chooses love over and over again. May we rest in our “homes,” tangible and spiritual, with gratitude and hope.
peace to you, Lisa