And yet another sign of the season’s changing: the blogger returns to her post.Hello again, Dear Readers.
My husband and I went backpacking together over the weekend, and climbed Baldy while we were at it. Last time we took our packs into the wilderness, we arrived home to discover a baby was on the way, and began an entirely new journey into the wilds of family life. So much was given up, so much was gained. Seven years of mothering and I am a wholly different person–face and body softened, spirit strong, heart humble and grateful.
What isn’t climbing a mountain analagous to, I wonder? Marriage and mothering, to be sure. Also, coming to know ourselves, the changing shape of our beliefs, our identity, our work in the world. So much slowing way down for the steepest ascents. Resting & letting go, sure, but always the steady task of putting one foot in front of the other. And somehow, the path we walk–and the way we walk it–becomes who we are.
“A second grade child is like a butterfly who has just emerged from the hard imprisoning chrysalis and sits upon the leaf waiting expectantly for those glorious new wings to dry and strengthen. He is truly poised for flight.” I came across these words here, and they describe my eldest daughter perfectly. They also describe me these days. I’m not just climbing mountains lately, I’m seeing some long held dreams begin to materialize. This summer I started a low residency MFA program in poetry at The Institute of American Indian Arts, and later this month I begin teaching parent/child classes at Santa Fe Waldorf School.
Be you high or low, be well!