angelbirdflies

 A bouquet from one of my favorite spots in Denver:

 Bodhi is now a superhero who also practices ballet in graffiti slippers a la Bodhi,  but he vastly prefers the endless noise making opportunities involved in tap. Now that's my fella!

 So I haven't even taken a shower yet...but living with a child is so damn much fun.  When you have a kid like Bodhi, whose enthusiasm is contagious, you find yourself doing things you had no intention of doing with the joyful abandon of a former time...a time when playing was the reason for living and "busy" was a ridiculous invention of adults.  The boxes were just lying around, waiting to be recycled, and that bubble wrap was begging for purpose. So here you have it...a fort and robot for protection in no time.  As I walked in the house ready for some shampoo, Bodhi hollered, "MOM you forgot something!!! It needs a doorbell!"  Of course it does, but that will have to wait until mom is bathed and fresh.  Unless Bodhi figures something out sooner, which could bode disaster for my Tibetan bells or any number of potentially repurposed treasures.

Bodhi's half birthday is today!!!  When your birthday is the day after Christmas, your half birthday takes on added significance. Chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast with chocolate syrup, whipped cream, berries, peaches and lots of sprinkles and we are off for a bike ride to the farmers market, library, lunch at whole foods and a trip to the bird resevoir! He is growing up fast...this big spirited, big hearted, big energied, big voiced, big boy.

To build a fairy house, first you must collect supplies.  Second, build your house.  Third, say a blessing and invite the fairies...Bodhi is great at this part and so sincere.

One of the essential skills of childhood and summer, is learning to properly roast a marshmallow and so, as a good mother should, I spent an evening, beside a campfire, imparting the finer points. First you find a good stick and Dad whittles the end to a point (not overly sharp or you have a dangerous weapon). Next, you find a spot with hot coals and not too many flames. Slowly rotate your stick and marshmallow to a golden brown perfection.  Surprisingly, Bodhi had no problem figuring out what to do next! After my lesson, I showed him the impatient way to cook a marshmallow (and my preferred method).  Thrust it unceremoniously into the flames until it catches on fire, blow it out and enjoy the charred goodness.   A mother's job is never done!

Here is a picture window opening onto our recent adventure to Crested Butte, CO (one of my favorite places):  A view from the entrance to our little red fox cabin at the Pioneer Guest Cabins (a fabulous place to stay if you're ever on the look out.)  A little farther up the road.  I loved the image of one black cow amidst a field of reds...diversity makes life so much more beautiful! In town we are always enamored with the many shops, the unique aesthetic, the dog friendly atmosphere and the familiarity of small town life.  Bodhi never passes a flower without taking the opportunity to inhale the aroma.  Or simply convey his floral affections with an elaborate smooch!  On Father's day we went for a drive into the mountains and took several snack, hike and hug breaks.  We found four leaf clovers  and rock prayers. All in all it was a spectacular trip.

I would like to beg you dear Sir, as well as I can, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language.  Don't search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them.  And the point is to live everything.  Live the questions now.  Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.      -Rainer Maria Rilke, 1903       In Letters to a Young Poet

The beach.   I don't know why exactly, but the ocean is my earthly home.  Beside it's shore, I breathe easy.  In it's waters my cares are washed clean. I float, without effort or concern, I just float.  Then with an easy heart, I begin to play, darting in and out of waves, grinning from ear to ear, sand and sea foam, with an open horizon, blue and wide with possibility.  On sand my feet feel most sure.  Floating, in warm waters, I breathe without holding my breath, shoulders relax, heart alert.  In the ocean I am not afraid of being alive, I am simply here and I am buoyant.  I could say, "I am a surfer's child".  I could say, "I am a pisces".  I could say, "I am a water child".  I could say any number of things.  I know this only, leaving the ocean is a bit like tearing off a limb, only to find it's wide waters lapping within, on the shore of Self, reminding me over and over again, to trust the waters and simply float.

Nature is wise.  I walk amidst her splendor feeling isolated and apart, a separated "other" tangled in thought and perception, tangled in "me".  Then I look out at the breathtaking brilliance that I am a part of.  Flowers litter the ground, a wind blows and the trees sway in response, a bird calls and mosquitos lurch.  For a moment there is no "other".  The wind is breathing this breath, the ground supporting this step, life is arising in all its multiplicity and returning in singularity...a single breath, that is All.  And I am home.

My big boy is gone for the summer, this time until August and although the Hawaiian trip delayed the pain of longing, upon my return to Colorado and his empty room, my heart aches.  Since he was four years old, I have practiced "saying good bye" and though the pain is duller now and I no longer pace his room, tears streaming down my face with the fierce longing of motherhood, for weeks on end.  I miss him.  His tender hearted presence and gentle energy.  His slow smile and deep thinking.  He is growing up and sometimes it feels like a string of goodbyes within a continuous stream of love so large that all our tears have room to fall.

 I'll be doling out photos of Hawaii for a few posts... more once the ache of longing subsides.  I can't express how much my spirit is eased beside a sunny shore or how much it hurts each time I have to leave the salty rhythm of the wide blue.  My beloved God Parents, Robin and Ned, hosted my travels as a birthday gift.  Here are a few shots along the way, with more to come: