There is a child’s song in which there is a line “Begin again.” For me, this first day of a new stretch of days is a nudge to begin again - posting, noting, blogging. (“Blogging” is such an unfortunate choice for one of our new words. It reminds me of “bloated” and “slogging”. The creator of that word ought to begin again. I would have chosen something like “ruming” as in ruminating or “quilling” as in writing.)
I first began to blog with the intention of posting while I traveled - nothing grandiose - just photos, a sorting of thoughts and an exercise of beginning again after Gary’s passing. What brought me to a halt this past fall in blogging was the serendipitous sighting of the cabin that I can now unlock, enter and call my own. Preparations for my eventual moving into the cabin, which will become my primary residence, have kept me boomeranging back and forth up the canyon toting crowbars, paint cans and screwdrivers. I let in a multitude of plumbers and of electricians (more outlets for computers and cellphones). My fingers were unavailable for tapping out posts, but inside I was noting that joy was rising and that posts were accumulating in my brain’s out file.
First as incoherent letters jumbled by grief and then by word, by image, by note the three letters of joy spelled itself into a multitude of configurations. Slow rising joy.
In the mornings, on those occasions when I must set my alarm, I write “Up” for the event in my cellphone calendar. “Get Up!” “Go!” Life, right now, is worth the command of “Up!”
"Go", I say to myself. Keep writing. Life is good.
Slow joy is rising.
|A View of Slow Rising Joy|