Taking time, making time, getting time, finding time, buying time. Finding home, making a home, coming home, missing home, leaving home. And then there’s entering a space, making space, taking space, leaving space.
Are all these comings and goings the spine of the physical and dare I say spiritual?
It’s the end of another year, today is December 28 and there is no snow in our Maine backyard. On Christmas day I raked some leaves and cut some vines off the fence in my short sleeves and I wasn’t cold. Jack is home from college working on his music and Cora was sick with fever and a bacterial infection for three days, maybe four. We brought Christmas dinner up to her and ate with her on the floor of her bedroom. Charles had a couple of deadlines with design projects so I cooked in between the holiday meals and noticed how thin the dog is becoming and finished a book I didn’t particularly enjoy while I decided I want to care about different things and clean out the basement. Ruthlessly. This week.
I want to find time to make space.