in the garden: more spring blooms.

calafornia poppy.

great columbine.

coral bells.

lungwort.

clematis.

i love these mornings walking into the garden after morning exercise.  i love witnessing the blooms in various stages of opening.  it's a beautiful gift, the gift of witnessing.  these days i witness blooms in the form of flowers in the garden, budding relationships, connections with kindred spirits & friends, the creative blossoming that comes from the work of our hands, a creative birthing that is taking shape within me, and the beauty of so many stories of others.  there are sacred tasks along life's marking moments.  the ability to witness your own journey with awareness and mindfulness is a gift.  the ability and gift of witnessing the journey, the life story of others is a sacred task.  

while some of the introspective writing has been stilled in many ways on this space, i've been digging deep, listening to my heart.  a clergy friend asked recently what i was most passionate about these days, what lit a fire in my heart.  i was called to attend to that question, and have almost avoided it at times.  i am passionate about so much (according to another dear soul).  i don't want my passions to be so diffused that they are no longer those spaces that really light a fire in my heart.  i want my path to be lined with blooms and goodness.  what i've realized is: it is.  i continue to step into the spaces that i am in love with.  i admit, these spaces will change.  that's why i name what this moment is like.  that's why i'm spending the time recording these marking moments in life.  these sacred spaces where art + spirit + creativity meet.  the spaces where my soul is centered and whole.  where i am fully myself and am embraced as suzanne.  i'm creating that suzanne-sized space that i prayed for so long ago.  now to move closer to some other hopes, which aren't so glamorous, but hold meaning and significance.  

that's one reaon i love the dirt. it's dirt.  it's the space that these blooms thrive within.  the worms underneath are caring for the soil.  they're doing their best under the spaces we tred.  in bereavement work, i'm like the earthworm.  i'm there working in the spaces of the soil of souls where hearts are heavy, stories and memories flow like living water, and the need to move within those sacred spaces is present.  the need to be present, to bring vitamins and nourishment is evident.  in small ways i see the space where the blooms will return, but mostly i witness the dirt.  i see the love and care many put into creating a space for love to continue to grow and for healing to take root.  it's a sacred space.  when i'm tending these spaces, like i did in seven weeks of the last 3 months, i find myself more and more introspective.  i find myself carrying the stories, stitching quietly, practicing yoga, loving my loves, and cooking. i find myself living well in the way i try all days, but also encountering spaces of life in careful, quiet ways.  

today i will move freely, practice sharing, and love deeply.  i'll witness life as birds sing, bringing my awareness into the present moment. i will live into my call, even as i research air conditioning for the studio. i will be. BE. me.