How beautiful this is...
How much I love the words of Wendell Berry, introduced to me by a favorite teacher almost 30 years ago.
"I see that the life of this place is always emerging beyond expectation or prediction or typicality, that it is unique, given to the world minute by minute, only once, never to be repeated. And this is where I see that life is a miracle, absolutely worth having, absolutely worth saving. We are alive within mystery, by miracle." Wendell Berry
How it feels at that moment when the clouds clear and the sunlight comes through and creates a moment of light and shadow.
How the making of something can hold love. What it means to make something by hand.
My poncho is 60 inches of cloth. Layers of color and texture; it feels like a hug. It has the capacity to absorb.
It holds gifts from friends and family, memories and reclaims things that might be considered waste. It may shed some of them as time passes. It holds story. And will find more.
It holds time spent being present. Listening (mostly to On Being and to Jude) and thinking. In this way it holds thoughts, dreams, schemes and "what if". And it holds silence, a still mind, something I've come to appreciate more as I've become older.
The casual observer won't know what my story is, but they will be able to create their own..
I want to remember how much I love story.