Thank goodness it's Saturday and quiet and early and the day is already beginning to sparkle outside. I am sitting here eating my toasted english muffin with almond butter and honey and drinking coffee and savoring the deep sense of belonging that I feel this morning, so so different, the very opposite, of how I was feeling in my last post. The opposite of that hollow loneliness, which was, truly, a fleeting mis-perception. It was a big consuming feeling, but it was a fluffy, little cloud in the path of the sun, for a moment blocking the radiance that is always there, the big connection that never passes.
Phew, so glad.
'Cause honestly, I was getting worried.
Right now Joe is outside, already turning the soil in one of the boxes for a some "work" we're doing this weekend. While I was at yoga last night, he used every daylight minute to prep the site, to clip back the climbing rose and dig up the canna lillies, so that today we could turn and amend the soil, bring in the new plants for Jasper's Corner, a whole area of our garden that's been untended really until now. When I got home last night, he had left me a little treasure, a perfect little bird nest that he found in the roses while trimming -- a little gift on the stoop waiting for me to find it, scoop it, carry it into the house, chattering gladly the whole way.
Did I mention it's 7:30 am? We're the crazy neighbors in the summer who are outside doing stuff, making noise, as soon as it's light. And I'm feel antsy about not being out there right now because I'm trying to scribble this out, then be dressed, shovel in hand, by 8. Especially because I can see Joe hustling around and he has already stopped at the front door once to show me a skull he dug up, coyote, whom we found and buried years ago. More treasure!
Last night was our big reunion class with Laura, Reconnect and Rejoice!, and it couldn't have been better timed for me. Todd Boston serenaded us for two hours, and then we went to dinner, a huge party, more than 20 friends, to Taste of Himalayas down the street. I sat, tucked in a corner, with Angela, Sherry, Jim, Alexandra, Cheryl, Laura and Nancy, looking down the long line of pushed-together tables and just feeling so content, so embraced by the loving arms of everyone there. Super, super sweet, and just what the doctor ordered.
Everything came together for me last night, and I got the reminder I was so desperate for, the balm my broken heart needed. I was feeling alone before, missing my pup so much, and yes, he's gone but we're still connected, he and I, always, and I'm always connected to all these amazing people I have the good fortune to know and even to those I don't know yet or won't know ever. I'm not alone. It's impossible. That seems like a silly obvious observation, but I needed it to show up right in front of my nose because clearly I lost it a little bit last week.
So I'm feeling so much better this morning, feeling like I have a place, like I belong. This was always true, but here I am, rejoicing in it again.
And truly feeling the power of being in kula, in community. If you're reading this, please click over and help Todd make his dream album. He needs $22K by May 2nd at 2pm and just needs a smidge more help. This is what kula does, right? We help each other reach for our dreams, hold them in our hands.
And if you're reading this, send love out to Abby Tucker who's spending another day holding her sister's hand in the hospital. This is also what kula does, right? We hold each other up through tough times.
It will be with a heart full of love and gratitude that I pick up the shovel this morning, with every motion stuffed with this sense that you're all with me all the time and I'm always with you. That's pretty nutty but also completely awesome. I'll be digging up treasure this morning, but the greatest treasure I already have -- it's you.