a wild and beautiful morning
not subject to restraint or regulation; passionately eager or enthusiastic
stepping outside this morning I expected to be met by the warm thick atmosphere that has been so present and lingering the past many days. But instead, cool dry air, instant relief.
I sit down on a padded chair in a protected corner of the porch, the dog follows suit and rather than running out into the yard for his morning relief, lays down at my feet.
And then I am met by something else that I did not expect -- wind -- the wild disruption of strong wind. I immediately think of a hundred things that I can not do today because of it. The relief of the pleasant temperature is lost and I am left with the wind and my distaste for it. In front of me our young birch trees move wildly and I feel accosted by the sensation.
Within moments my daughter comes through the door with the breakfast she has made for herself; a salad of baby carrots and tomatoes with parmesan cheese. She sits down next to me and eats mostly the cheese, carefully gathering it up with her delicate fingers.
I feel my chest tighten against this wind, even though I am mostly protected from it where I sit. I notice how badly I want it to stop; so that my resistance will fade. How badly I want to feel security rather than movement around me. And then I realize, quite strikingly, that I can not control the wind, or the change or the beauty that it brings. And so I try very hard to just sit and let the air move around me.
The moments pass, I do not know how many, and amazingly I begin to feel movement in me. I begin to feel softer, more pliable, peace.
In short time I hear my own beautiful windstorm coming down the stairs from slumber. Twenty more toes, accompanied by their father, jabbering and sniffling -- joyful sounds of chaos and love. And inside me the joyful movement of chaos and love -- more willing to be part of the greater movement.