For me, this Thanksgiving week has been like being turned inside out. This re-born being cannot take much frenzy. A few blocks away, a holiday parade is taking place and there is much honking of horns and sirens and the sound of bands playing, but I'm quietly in my perch, thankful to be hearing it from afar.
There's been an interesting alchemy to writing deep personal things each day for a possible future book, then to feeling the transformation in my bones and in my cells and in my spirit, sort of "as it happens." For over two years, I have spoken of being in a new stretch of river, but I was dragging some mighty heavy old seaweed and ballast through the water. It seems to be dropping away as I honor it by writing. And as it drops away, the boat feels fragile suddenly, but (of course) lighter, freer and easier to steer. I finally see my north star as mists around me are clearing. And understanding is coming in waves, waves that literally make me smile with satisfaction. "Aha, now I get it!"
Perhaps not surprisingly, it was a joy on Thanksgiving day to sing "ABCDEFG..." and nursery rhyme songs with a very musical little two-year-old boy, and to look into smiling blue eyes filled with curiosity and quick learning. I don't really remember being that age, and I'm going to be mighty protective of myself as I go through these early phases again, but I hope that I'll keep this little child's voice with me as a touchstone for wonder.
