light in august
August pulled me outdoors, the way the summer months do. My computer bit the dust and though I've felt a bit out of touch, I have appreciated sitting with pen and paper under the shade of a beach umbrella on the sand or in the solitude of our humble garden. There have been afternoons spent on the wicker sofa outdoors napping with Rave or with my nose in a book, intermittently distracted (and sometimes downright startled) by the vibration of hummingbird wings speeding past to reach the feeder. On weekends we've awakened early to run errands and then head out to watch a polo match and buy jumbo artichokes at the farmers' market. We sit on the front steps watching sun bleached sailboats lilt to the wind's call while the smell of charcoal and lighter fluid predictably penetrate the neighborhood in the late afternoon sunlight.
Last week I had the pleasure of spending time with Liz in Washington. She and Ellie Jane took me scouting for sea glass along the shore and we met Martha and her dog Lily for an afternoon in Seattle at Pike Place Market. I returned home with a heart brimming with gratitude for the blessings of friendship and connection.
There is also an unanswered question that has surfaced recently, as it has before over the years. A wondering if parenthood is part of our path. Although there have been hours of "YES.", days of "Definitely not.", and years of "Maybe someday...", I've never had a crystalline notion of whether or not motherhood is what calls me. I've identified the question as a way to listen to my heart and determine what has healed and what is still healing from my own experiences of childhood. And while this is a part of what I consider, there are so many other variables at play. But here's the thing: I guess I just thought I'd have it figured out by now. I long for a clear and unwavering answer and it has eluded me. So here I sit with The Big Unknown; sometimes it is congenial and sometimes it is like wearing a scratchy wool sweater I forget I can remove.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Reader Comments (8)
Those dahlias are breathtaking.
The longing for a clear and unwavering answer (to something) and The Big Unknown. I know them both well.
The last two Augusts (sans day-job) have reminded me how much I love August. There is something about it - especially here when it is usually the month with the rare warm days - that brings me back to the essence of summer, of daily life, of being in the moment. I have also realized that I want to somehow structure my life in a way that permits this every August. Sometimes it seems impossible and unrealistic, but I know I want it.
I'm glad you've enjoyed your August!
what a fruitful august. love the pictures.
i know have been loving sitting on the porch in the morning and journaling.
tell the hummingbirds, hi. I have not seen many this way in a while but I am deep in suburbia!!
My goodness...reading your words are like having dessert. I always want more, and it's always such an incredible comfort. Thanks for the time we spent together in August. I loved every moment of it, and left wishing for more. There will be more soon. Love to you, Bud and Rave for an awesome September.
I'm not sure it's something that the majority has figured out. Or maybe the majority has, and we're the minority. I still feel like I would be happy, contented, complete without children, even though I would enjoy having them.
this is your path & you will know the way to go. i wish you peace in your steps.
lindsey ~ they were so vibrant, the flowers at pike place market make me swoon!
elizabeth ~ thank you for knowing. sending wishes that august always brings you to that place of delight.
keishua ~ the idea of a porch conjures up so many sweet images and emotions for me. i haven't lived in a house that has had one since I was very small. i will whisper hello to a hummingbird for you.
carrie ~ thank you, it was wonderful to spend time with you! i've been thinking of you with a smile since then.
brooke ~ xoxo
alane ~ you words touch my heart. thank you.
What beautiful pictures. The title of this post seems to suggest the illumination of a question that has laid dormant. There is longing and contentment in your words and I too am familiar with that place somewhere in between the two.