just trying to be more normal over here…

I’ve been thinking, lately, about calming down. (ha! 26 years later. You’re welcome, Sam.)
I can be a little high-strung. Anxious. Excited. Edgy. I think too long about too many things and end up down a path of sleepless worry (needless worry). This is not unusual for creative people, I realize, and part of that mania in my head helps spur ideas. But let’s be honest- the word ‘mania’ can never truly be good, right?
What is good about journaling, about keeping a blog, is that you have a record of what you were worried about, and you can see the path you were walking, and you gain some insight simply on account of remembering the past.
Even when the “past” was last month. Or a week ago.
Or yesterday.

Here’s what I forget: Life requires rhythm to work properly. Our entire world is built on this principle.
The planets revolve around the sun in celestial rhythm, masses of elements with some giant shadowed knowledge of their place in the universe.

Oceans roll in and out, rising and falling, tides told by that quiet cousin of ours, the pale and powerful moon, dictating the covering and uncovering of sand, turtles, grasslands, lava rocks, shallow pools.

Meanwhile God turns the Earth in tangent circles, twenty-four and 365 cycles of blinding sun and heavy dark, piercing stars and rippling winds, season after season after season after season.

Dear Sam and Clara,
We’re in a new season, my loves. Our new rhythm is lovely, but sometimes difficult to follow. I don’t know how other people make this look easy, but I struggle with the pace of our path. Today is a chance to fall deeper into life with you two, to let go of my fears, to let God be the keeper of our time and hope. This life we’re building together is heartbreakingly beautiful, you guys, and I love you with every strand of DNA in my body. And in yours.

and our bodies
moving in their own rhythm
birth and death so closely related
we cannot distinguish
between old and young, and their paper soft skin, and their needs, and their dependence,
bookends of a ticking metronome
heartbeats and blinking eyes.
step lightly,
relax your fingers,
loosen your clenched up jaw,
and remember you
before the tides came in,
before the stars got lost,
before the ticking metronome
and wide awake dreaming.
you are a planet/find your orbit.
remember last week
sing for tomorrow.

jessie. mama. wife. friend. sister.

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