Weeks ago my friend sent me this link . . .
It is a beautiful depiction of courageous woman dealing with the struggles of life in a graceful and inspiring way . . .
love it like I do.
I went and saw this
I loved it.
I read this book when I was in high school and I remember feeling like it was epic.
And at 30, I still feel like it is epic.
There is a line in the movie “We accept the love we think we deserve.”. Yeah. Seriously can relate to that. Super deep and beautiful line. It made me think of the fact that we are all just bumping along, doing our best, trying to be loved, and fighting it the whole time . . . so see it before it isn’t in the theatre. It is so worth it . . .
I went on a hot air balloon ride…
it was awesome….
a perfect way to spend a sunday….
I beat the sun to rise this morning. I filled my room with lit candles, Sarah McLachlan & Cyndi Lauper float in and out of my attention and Mother Mary holds a peace lily on her back.
So peaceful, this morning. The best way to set the tone for the day.
I remember someone telling me that the way you wake up is the way you spend your day. I thought about that. Usually I push my alarm to the last minute, just trying to squeeze every last second of shut-eye possible before getting out of my cozy bed and into the day.
What tone does this set? Avoiding everything uncomfortable and pushing beginnings to the last second. I don’t think I want to have my days filled with the phrase “five more minutes”. No thank you. More like “right now”. I know they say patience is a virtue. But we don’t have many hours in our life. I would rather be awake then asleep.
But sometimes. . . sometimes that pillow is so soft and the bed is so warm. And then add a warm body behind you?
Oof. Those are the days when the tone is set to Dusty Springfield and already established lights on your face.
I like those days the best.
“The girl and the woman, in their new, individual unfolding, will only in passing be imitators of male behavior and misbehavior and repeaters of male professions. After the uncertainty of such transitions, it will become obvious that women were going through the abundance and variation of those (often ridiculous) disguises just so that they could purify their own essential nature and wash out the deforming influences of the other sex. Women, in whom life lingers and dwells more immediately , more fruitfully, and more confidently, must surely have become riper and more human in their depths than light, easygoing man, who is not pulled down beneath the surface of life by the weight of any bodily fruit and who, arrogant and hasty, undervalues what he thinks he loves. This humanity of woman, carried in her womb through all her suffering and humiliation, will come to light when she has stripped off the conventions of mere femaleness in the transformations of her outward status, and those men who do not yet feel it approaching will be astonished by it. Someday (and even now, especially in the countries of northern Europe, trustworthy signs are already speaking and shining), someday there will be girls and women whose name will no longer mean the mere opposite of the male, but something in itself, something that makes one think not of any complement and limit, but only of life and reality: the female human being.
This advance (at first very much against the will of the outdistanced men) will transform the love experience, which is now filled with error, will change it from the ground up, and reshape it into a relationship that is meant to be between one human being and another, no longer one that flows from man to woman. And this more human love (which will fulfill itself with infinite consideration and gentleness, and kindness and clarity in binding and releasing) will resemble what we are now preparing painfully and with great struggle: the love that consists in this: that two solitudes protect and border and greet each other.”
-Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters To a Young Poet.
This is a rainy morning. I feel somehow settled. I think I am like the new little plants in my garden. I take time to find my roots. I keep transplanting me from sunny spot to shady back to sunny spot and I never allow myself the minutes needed to dig in and ground myself. But with the rain, I am soaked. I can’t go outside and a transplant in this mushy, damp terrain would cause more tumult than it was worth. So I make some tea and I watch the rain. Feeling my stomach drop into my couch and letting my eyes drift over a good book. The calming effect is magical.
There are some places in the world I am DYING to visit and India is on the top of the list. I have such an affinity for the colors, the music, the tradition and the mania that make up this beautiful country.
I found this video and quote on my friend’s tumblr and had to share. ENJOY!
“Out of its squalor and human decay, its eruptions of butchery, India produced so many people of grace and beauty, ruled by elaborate courtesy. Producing too much life, it denied the value of life; yet it permitted a unique human development to so many. Nowhere were people so heightened, rounded and individualistic; nowhere did they offer themselves so fully and with such assurance. To know Indians was to take a delight in people as people; every encounter was an adventure. I did not want India to sink [out of my memory]; the mere thought was painful.” ~ V.S. Naipul (An Area of Darkness)
Am I the only one who loves to collect recipes just in case one day I will make time to cook for myself? Seriously, I love to believe I am the type of woman who is always that creative, warm, intentional. The kind of woman who sews buttons on shirts, bakes fresh bread, and writes consistently on her blog. Ah yes, le sigh. Maybe I will be that one day…or maybe not. La di da on this gorgeous fall afternoon.