Vulnerable

i keep trying to convince myself that this time of year isn't hard and by acknowledging and understanding that it is a challenge, things might get a little easier. easier? no. different? probably. more transparent? definitely.

i am uninspired by christmas - by giving - by shopping or thinking of things to be inspired by. i am inspired by twinkling lights in the dark of night. by solitary walks. by offbeat christmas songs. i am inspired by those with the vulnerability to state their grief over the loss of loved ones and dashed dreams. i am inspired by the quirky characters who find rest and joy only at this time of year. in this moment, i am uninspired by my life which so many find inspiring. i have two children that make me scream, WTF? my husband adores me and he's out of town. i meant to bake this year - to decorate - to fill my house with holiday soirees. it has not happened and will not, because i am uninspired.

please know i am not depressed or in need of medical attention. i am a member of the human race who finds this time of year confusing. it is confusing and empty in lots of regards. "they" say it should be joyous and filled with light. it is the darkest time of year—literally. the question of "will your family be all together for the holiday?" brought tears to my eyes this morning, because we will not. a book i've dreamed of for years is nearing the final stages. it is my current delight and it is harder than hell to finish...so many details. my urge for perfection rises to the top... and it is my saving grace. i can quietly sit for hours and edit comments... incorporating words and shaping them into the song of my own making. i am grateful for those simple moments.

i wish i were full of good cheer today. i'd like to say the cards and packages are in the mail, the cookies are baked and the presents wrapped... maybe later... perhaps i'll be inspired next year.

Faith in the Night

But darkness holds it all:
the shape and the flame,
the animal and myself,
how it holds them,
all powers, all sight –

and it is possible: its great strength
is breaking into my body.

I have faith in the night.

(excerpted from You Darkness, Rainer Maria Rilke translated by David Whyte)

I have faith in the night – the place where dreams meet and manifest. The flowing stream of wisdom, love and consciousness that drifts within and without me. Writing verse and prose...protection and protest...dreams and daring—all within the night.

I have faith that my book, As I Lay Pondering*, is happening—one step at a time. It sometimes moves at a snail’s sluggish pace and other stages burst forward with leaps of bravado and boldness.

I have faith in my life – that it is happening just as it should – could – would – is. Yes, just as it is.

*more details coming soon!!!!

For too many days...

For too many days I have not written of what stirs my soul. I have not confessed to the simple pleasures that make up my days. Things like… The soft fur of my golden cat as he greets me with his purring ballet. Sweet whispers and the tender touch of my beloved. Crisp winter air on my skin as daylight meets dark. Luminaries surrounding the lake. Laughter of friends mixed with the jingle of Christmas bells and off-key carols. Twinkling lights amidst the smell of freshly cut evergreen. Gastronomical delights like chicken and waffles turned into art and fat luscious noodles from Tommy’s kitchen. My daughter sleeping safely in her bed. The joy of my sister as she creates her art. Magic and mystery. Music. Dance. Delight.

For too many days now I have not written of what darkens my heart. Frigid rain that persists and chills me to the core. An empty space beside me. Silent friendships and those gone stale. My child in a cold stone cell. Unanswered messages. Aimless thoughts. Hunger and starvation. Loneliness and longing.

For too many days now I haven’t written of Hope, the candle that leads my way – not like birthday flames on a resplendent cake, but rather the single shimmer in the darkest night. Hope in the midst of sorrow. Hope that stirs the pot of joy buried deep within my belly. Hope that gets me out of bed on the gloomiest days, and Hope that leads me like a floodlight on stage when I follow my true passion.

For too many days I have not written of this season that stirs my soul in a multitude of ways. This season of darkness. This season of Hope. In this glorious season may we each reach for peace within and goodwill toward all. May our souls be stirred with delight alongside the acknowledgement of darkness. May we come to know that Hope abides in all who choose to truly live.

For too many days I have not… How might you respond?

photo © KSH - Santa Fe Tree

My Advent Prayer

Allow me to see the face of this day
Let me enter into each space with intention
Crossing the Holy thresholds
Touching the Ancient stones

Let me enter into each space with intention
Do not allow me to cloud my own vision
Touching the Ancient stones
I will be the face of this day

Do not allow me to cloud my own vision
Crossing the Holy thresholds
I will be the face of this day
Allow me to see the precious face of this day

© Kayce Stevens Hughlett