December 15 – 5 Minutes Imagine you will completely lose your memory of 2010 in five minutes. Set an alarm for five minutes and capture the things you most want to remember about 2010. (Author: Patti Digh)
when i think about losing memory, i start to remember. i remember the memories i carry regardless of what biology or fever or illness swipes from me. in my fingers making biscuits i hold the memory of the touches of my grandmother's hands, her smell, and her comforting presence. as i care for my almost five-year-old, i remember seeing his face for the first time and holding him beside me to nurse. i remember my sweet one's excitement of today and the way he doesn't seem to take life for granted because he delights in so many moments.
i witness memory as tears come to the surface. i remember the tattoo of a dancing woman moving on my grandfather's arm and his smells of mingled old spice and american produced beer. i remember the spaces where i'd play pool, swim, and play the penny slot machine.
i hear laughter, questions, and fears. i hear egg hunts, picnics, family reunions, and the sound of the tree swing in motion. i feel the sensations of fishing and the penetrating glance of one who watches for our safety.
these aren't memories of 2010, but memories that fill me now, in this moment, here in 2010. this marker is a representation of memories that surface within the me that is now. the me that is present and willing to just be. the me that is willing to say things that might be uncomfortable, to sit still and listen in the presence of deep sadness and the most raw hopes.
the me that is willing to swallow pride, the me that is willing to be vulnerable through words, actions, and art. the me that knows lighting candles, taking deep breaths, practicing yoga, mediation and sacred centering are meaningful spiritual acts. that baking bread and cooking whole foods bring life and maintain health. that my space is a gift and the dirt and dust of daily living is sacred. that spirituality happens in the daily movements of sacred acts. that we fulfill our needs as we interact within community. that openness to people different than ourselves can be our salvation. that we are called to create from within, with each breath. that truth telling and peace + love making matter. that sharing peace through piece work is important, sacred, and pure. that just Being is enough. that we don't have to prove ourselves through words other than those that are true. that digging in the dirt is to touch the sacred. that earth worms are my favorite. that we have so much to grow in our gardens. that story plants are the best. that kindred spirits speak and give life.
if you've been reading this blog long enough, you'll witness memories deeper and rooted in who i am as a mother, artist, minister, friend, bread maker, cook, stranger, guest, hostess, risk-taker, practicer, sweeper, silent, talkative, soulful human being. you'll see and feel the roots that have grown deep in 2010. just as my free flow here in these five minutes speaks, so too does my soul speak. peace. rest. renewal to you and yours.
getting my new broom and using it for the first time was a moment filled with joy. sweeping as a sacred act brings a ritual to my day that adds simplicity, delight, joy, and focus. the ordinary act of sweeping becomes extraordinary, bringing calm and restore the space. i am focused. i am in the present. i am sweeping.
