Friday, May 3, 2013

Bolts of glory


It is May 3 but I have to study the calendar page, again and again, to believe it true.

There was so much hope swelling just a few days ago as the temperatures rose to meet the clear sky and the trees clapped their leaves right open. I left the kitchen door open, welcoming in that breeze laden with earth and spirea, believing that a corner had been turned.

And then, everything changed. Again.

And I realize that this dependence on happenings outside of my inner spaces to make me happy is a hollow endeavor.

I see it in my oldest, too. The way his sweet disposition darkens so quickly when even the slightest cloud passes over. And how, even after the wind turns direction, he keeps looking for the shadow, as if he knows himself best in dimmed light.

The thing is, I'm bumbling along right there beside him.

I want all the goodness and light, the warmth and the rising, the new and the fresh. I'm so tired of the gray and clouded, the cold and the sinking, the old and the stale.

But this is our life. The gray and the blue woven in tight with the yellow and the orange, in and out, over and under.

Each day is cut from holy cloth, bolts of glory by the yard. And although I've never fashioned myself a seamstress, I know that patterns and textures can change when the light is brought in closer.

So that is what I am choosing today. To bring the light in closer.

I'm lighting candles and watching the golden flicker dance upon dewy cheeks.

I'm switching on lamps and hunkering down on the couch to read the pages filled with story.

I'm looking deep into eyes, looking for that holy spark, that kindling that ignites when noticed and held close.

And I'm laughing at the calendar, for it doesn't know what I know.

That today is a gift beyond measure and I am but a servant of splendor.


Linking with Emily for Imperfect Prose




21 comments:

  1. oh boy do i know this. we limp around for much of March and April and know, just *know*, that May's coming -- and we'll fly.


    but when it doesn't ...?


    yeah. i want to see that spark kindling in their eyes and those bolts of glory by the yard, to call this unexpected turn a gift and myself servant of splendor. beautiful and aspiring and life-giving.
    i love it when you write. (sigh)

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  2. I was so sure this time Spring was here to stay and them bam, Winter comes barging back in the door like an unwelcome guest. I hope he doesn't stay too long this time around. It's good to choose light and things that matter bc we can't depend on outside influences to determine our happiness, things are always changing and never staying the same. I guess we should all laugh at the calendar and enjoy each day as it comes. Great post!

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  3. Holly, this. is. glorious. Oh, gosh, thank you for *just writing*. Because? All of us are feeling this right now. It's been a dark week here, with all the rain, and some forgotten medicine, and a drained mom that feels like her life is a train-wreck. Weary. Thank you for this, love. I'm highlighting this on the blog.

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  4. Lady? I love you.

    "And I realize that this dependence on happenings outside of my inner spaces to make me happy is a hollow endeavor." THIS THIS THIS



    I'm with you. Thank you for spreading sunshine to my soul through the music of your words.

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  5. I couldn't help but think about it outside of even the weather. Like when you fall into nice, gentle rhythms and people wake up smiling and you think, yes, this is what it is all about. And then the phone rings and there is news that strangles and everything you thought you knew just evaporates into thin air and all you can do is try to catch your breath...
    I know that you know this.
    This is about those times, too.
    I love you, dear friend.
    You are a gift.

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  6. No, we can't depend on outside influences to determine our happiness for they are constantly shifting, moving in and out of view. And laughing at the calendar, I am! It doesn't have a hold on me anymore. It can't. Thank you for being here.

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  7. Nacole,
    Thank you friend. I'm sorry your week has been so difficult. Praying that light will find you, even in your darkest places.
    I am so thankful for you.

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  8. I love you too, Lady!

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  9. I'm so built the same way. My mood shifts with the shadows of the sun. I wish it weren't so. I love your idea of lighting candles and bringing the light close. Have you heard of the phenomenon of hygge in Denmark?

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  10. i know what you mean here better than i'd like to admit. especially this week - as i see you've read my mind.
    ((thank you)) you wear compassion so well.

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  11. Elodie, I had never heard of hygge so I looked it up and I love the idea. One definition described it as such:

    "Hygge (pronounced "hYOOguh"?) often translates to "cozy" — though it connotes much more. From what I gather, it means something like 'fireplace warmth with candles and family and friends and food, tucked under blankets on a snowy day, cup-of- coffee conversation, scarf-snuggle, squiggly, warm baby love.' Or something like that."



    That sounds divine. And, yes, what I need to do when I let the shadows creep in.
    Thank you for your voice here. It is so very welcome.

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  12. Thanks for inviting us to hear your thoughts. :) I was introduced to Hygge through a talk given by an author/researcher who discovered that Denmark is one of the happiest places in the world--one of the few on the list in a colder, darker climate. I bet it has a lot to do with these kinds of rituals and traditions. Glad that we know a Light that conquers darkness of any kind.

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  13. Holly, the beauty in this whole piece is wonderful but that last sentence, oh what a gift! Love you.

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  14. I love this. Just a wee bit of snow left here in WI and the sun is shining again. :)

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  17. Thank you friend.

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  18. Here's wishing you continued sun, melting snow, and exuberant hearts.

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  19. The poetry in this, so exquisite. One of my favorite posts of yours to date.

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  20. Elizabeth,
    Thank you so much for your generous words here. I am so thankful to have you in this space.

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  21. Holy cloth and bolts of glory by the yard. I get happily lost in your writing, Holly. So good.

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