The Art of Being

Empty toilet paper rolls glinting in the sun

Do I really have to keep this pretty mesh bag full of empty toilet paper rolls?

It spins in the wind and shimmers a little. I get it. People actually buy spent tp rolls on eBay, and my 7 yo daughter has been hoarding them.

When Daisy wants to keep something like this and we’re moving again, and preparing to offload…

My gut reaction is, Oh hellz no.

Come on, we’ll make more after we move. This’ll get smashed.

But, look mama, I found a perfect home for them in this cute little bag…

The bag I called dibs on back when you received a birthday present inside it. Lifting out one-by-one the homemade contents basking in the bag—she said, Mama, can you take everything out of that bag?

Yoink! It's in her hands.

Can I have it?, she smiles cuter than the cutest button in all the universe. 

(It makes me smile to think how my pronouncement of cuteness and my giving in would irk her older brother—and how eventually he’d smile too, how his smile would bloom and beam slowly lighting up his whole face and body. He has such a beautiful, tender heart that radiates from his smile. If you know him, you know how he makes you feel warm and welcome.)

Ok, baby girl goddess queen of the world, I like your style. The bag is yours. It was meant for you the moment it was thought of for me. The spent toilet paper rolls will travel with us in style.

Presently, the younger older brother looks up from polishing silver with his sister. His eyes dive into the very core of my soul. He swims there for a while, improving his stroke, all within millionths of a second.

If he looks at you, you know it. He sees with every molecule of his body in quantum speed—where everything slows down. It’s incredible, I take a moment to appreciate, how much wisdom he teaches without ever saying a word. #goals

The current world may not have been made for people like him. But older realms and the one we’re beginning to inhabit from here on out, this earth is made for all of us. All of us as individuals and all of us as whole beings accepting all of who we are.

And how the who beyond we are, experiences Herself (don’t let the pronoun unbalance or bind you) so profoundly through us. All loved. All revered. All sacred. All one… ecstatically experienced uniquely through us.

Our experiences of what we deem unfair
Sadness as catalyst for growth & flow
Joy in the breathing in & letting go
Appreciation of the TP roll

The bloom of the grateful heart, awe that there is anything at all
The leaves unfurl, tomatoes red and green
Rain and sun and light unseen,
Dappling the already yellowing and reddening leaves.

The kids see all of this by their nature.
Whereas I have to make myself slow down,
Look up from my work of decluttering and striving,
Unfurrow my serious brow & reflect the smiles looking up at me

That kind of ecstasy has plenty of space for pain and the cinematic artsy drama of a life. Peels of laughter ring clear.

Growth and evolution turn Her on.

What’s making you laugh out loud or slow down lately?

Love,
Heather