3:36 a.m. This morning, I rolled over, finally looked at my watch and called it a sleep.
An hour later, I got up to “work on” a few articles that I am excited and terrified to write. Today, I no longer see that conundrum of “excited and terrified” as noble or a mark of anything, but meh. And as I poured the coffee, watered the pups and opened the cottage-where-no-rain-or-words-had come, a thought lodged itself deep into my slow wakening:
“I want to leave only love and memories behind; not a list of what I was going to do.”
Not the art or writing or new blog or plants or people or traveling or listening or learning the cello or sitting quietly without my phone … with my people in the backyard, front stoop, curled up on a mountain of pillows, ideas, love and home. I don’t want to miss a moment – even a moment to myself or listening to hard truths that invite me to step up.
Not so much a stake in the ground, but a seed taking root.
What are you leaving behind?