Started June 24, 2022 in the back of an old journal, revisited July 1, handwritten in hot pink erasable ink while in Tucson. Finished December 27, in Evernote sitting in a corner in the living room listening to the rain and looking east to the hills.
I keep thinking about what to say about this moment. Well there have been more than a few and I have nothing, well nothing that hasn't been said, written, sung, drawn, danced, prayed and signed by many before me.
We have the possibility of being a realized dream - the possibility - and I am not sure we will be there in my lifetime which as I write that hurts my heart in a way where the pain is so intense it transcends.
It also transforms.
I have no other option but to be as full of love, compassion, generosity and curiosity as this carbon-based life form in this skin can hold.
It is not easy.
It is uncompensated labor but I am finding ways for it to cost me less. Deep appreciation to those who have named this reality and supported me as I find new ways in systems, that in spite of the words often used, cling to behaviors and beliefs that limit us all.
So the young girl that took piano for 12 years and modern dance and ballet for a little less returns to something familiar. Practice.
I must fine tune myself as an instrument whose purpose (and delight) is to be a space and a place where others are welcomed as they are and will be.
So practice I shall.