Oh, Chipmunks. There are going to be some epic adventures to share this year; I can scarcely wait. For starters, I can pretty much guarantee nudity.
Right now, though, as I nurse my 8,000th cold in the past two months, I have that strange feeling… I bet you know the one. I call it “the in-betweens.” Nestled under blankets and a heating pad, with Uncle Jesse curled by my knee, it’s as though some invisible hand has pressed the pause button.
Scared, exhilarated, exhausted and excited after an epic year of goal-crushing, travel, mind-blowing metaphysical exploration, closure, new and rekindled friendships, I’m sipping lukewarm coffee that I know should be tea, trying to just breathe and be. To see the beauty and blessing in this time out. Not every moment is meant to be go-
Jules-go-go. There’s a gift within these gray January months, when signs of spring seem unforgivably absent.
Things are always moving, shifting, growing. Even when we can’t see it.
So in this time of unknowns, limitless possibility and quiet, I thought I’d share something ‘in between’ nothing and my normal blog posts.
I watched a video last night of an artist sculpting
A face from clay.
She measured down the middle first
and pointed out
where the eyes should go.
Then she measured side to side
and explained the placement of
Depending on gender.
Now I’m watching a film
I’m seeing the angles
that should be invisible.
“I must be so smart
to see this,”
I think, patting myself on the back.
I feel my ego stroked
as I touch this back that can be measured
In inches and vertebrae
without ever truly knowing
The space in between.
February 26, 2018